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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/10925-0.txt b/10925-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..63f521e --- /dev/null +++ b/10925-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,16041 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10925 *** + +A COLLECTION OF OLD ENGLISH PLAYS, VOL. IV + +In Four Volumes + + +Edited by + +A.H. BULLEN + + +1882-89. + + + + +CONTENTS: + +Preface +Two Tragedies in One. By Robert Yarington +The Captives, or the Lost Recovered. By Thomas Heywood +The Costlie Whore. +Everie Woman in her Humor. +Appendix +Index +Footnotes + + + +PREFACE. + +The fourth and final volume of this Collection of Old Plays ought to +have been issued many months ago. I dare not attempt to offer any +excuses for the wholly unwarrantable delay. + +In the preface to the third volume I stated that I hoped to be able to +procure a transcript of an unpublished play (preserved in Eg. MS. 1,994) +of Thomas Heywood. It affords me no slight pleasure to include this play +in the present volume. Mr. JEAVES, of the Manuscript Department of the +British Museum, undertook the labour of transcription and persevered to +the end. As I have elsewhere stated, the play is written in a detestable +hand; and few can appreciate the immense trouble that it cost Mr. JEAVES +to make his transcript. Where Mr. JEAVES' labours ended mine began; I +spent many days in minutely comparing the transcript with the original. +There are still left passages that neither of us could decipher, but +they are not numerous. + +I may be pardoned for regarding the Collection with some pride. Six of +the sixteen plays are absolutely new, printed for the first time; and I +am speaking within bounds when I declare that no addition so substantial +has been made to the Jacobean drama since the days of Humphrey Moseley +and Francis Kirkman. _Sir John Van Olden Barnavelt_ has been styled by +Mr. Swinburne a "noble poem." Professor Delius urged that it should be +translated into German; and I understand that an accomplished scholar, +Dr. Gelbeke of St. Petersburg, has just completed an admirable +translation. Meanwhile the English edition[1] has been reproduced in +Holland. + +In the original announcement of this Collection I promised a reprint of +_Arden of Feversham_ from the quarto of 1592; I also proposed to include +plays by Davenport, William Rowley, and Nabbes. After I had transcribed +_Arden of Feversham_ I determined not to include it in the present +series. It occurred to me that I should enhance the value of these +volumes by excluding such plays as were already accessible in modern +editions. Accordingly I rejected _Arden of Feversham, Sir John +Oldcastle, Patient Grissel_, and _The Yorkshire Tragedy_. The plays of +Davenport, William Rowley, and Nabbes were excluded on other grounds. +Several correspondents suggested to me that I should issue separately +the complete works of each of these three dramatists; and, not without +some misgivings, I adopted this suggestion. + +I acknowledge with regret that the printing has not been as accurate as +I should have desired. There have been too many misprints, especially in +the first two volumes;[2] but in the eyes of generous and competent +readers these blemishes (trivial for the most part) will not detract +from the solid value of the Collection. + +It remains that I should thank Mr. BERNARD QUARITCH, the most famous +bibliopole of our age (or any age), for the kind interest that he has +shewn in the progress of my undertaking. Of his own accord Mr. QUARITCH +offered to subscribe for one third of the impression,--an offer which I +gratefully accepted. I have to thank Mr. FLEAY for looking over the +proof-sheets of a great part of the present volume and for aiding me +with suggestions and corrections. To Dr. KÖHLER, librarian to the Grand +Duke of Weimar, I am indebted for the true solution (see _Appendix_) of +the rebus at the end of _The Distracted Emperor_. Mr. EBSWORTH, with his +usual kindness, helped me to identify some of the songs mentioned in +_Everie Woman in Her Humor_ (see _Appendix_). + +17, SUMATRA ROAD, WEST HAMPSTEAD, N.W. + +_8th October, 1885_. + + + + + + +INTRODUCTION TO _TWO TRAGEDIES IN ONE_. + + +Of Robert Yarington, the author of _Two Tragedies in One_ absolutely +nothing is known. There is no mention of him in Henslowe's Diary, and +none of his contemporaries (so far as I can discover) make the slightest +allusion to him. The _Two Tragedies_ is of the highest rarity and has +never been reprinted before. + +There are two distinct plots in the present play. The one relates to the +murder of Robert Beech, a chandler of Thames Street, and his boy, by a +tavern-keeper named Thomas Merry; and the other is founded on a story +which bears some resemblance to the well-known ballad of _The Babes in +the Wood_. I have not been able to discover the source from which the +playwright drew his account of the Thames Street murder. Holinshed and +Stow are silent; and I have consulted without avail Antony Munday's +"View of Sundry Examples," 1580, and "Sundry strange and inhumaine +Murthers lately committed," 1591 (an excessively rare, if not unique, +tract preserved at Lambeth). Yet the murder must have created some stir +and was not lightly forgotten. From Henslowe's Diary[3] (ed. Collier, +pp. 92-3) we learn that in 1599 Haughton and Day wrote a tragedy on the +subject,--"the Tragedy of Thomas Merrye." The second plot was derived, I +suppose, from some Italian story; and it is not improbable that the +ballad of the _Babes in the Wood_ (which was entered in the +Stationers' Books in 1595, tho' the earliest printed copy extant is the +black-letter broadside--circ. 1640?--in the Roxburghe Collection) was +adapted from Yarington's play. + +Although not published until 1601, the _Two Tragedies_ would seem from +internal evidence to have been written some years earlier. The language +has a bald, antiquated look, and the stage-directions are amusingly +simple. I once entertained a theory (which I cannot bring myself to +wholly discard) that _Arden of Feversham_, 1592, _Warning for Fair +Women_, 1599, and _Two Tragedies in One_, 1601, are all by the same +hand; that the _Warning_ and _Two Tragedies_, though published later, +were early essays by the author whose genius displayed its full power in +_Arden of Feversham_. A reader who will take the trouble to read the +three plays together will discover many points of similarity between +them. _Arden_ is far more powerful than the two other plays; but I +venture to think that the superiority lies rather in single scenes and +detached passages than in general dramatic treatment. The noble scene of +the quarrel and reconciliation between Alice Arden and Mosbie is +incomparably finer than any scene in the _Warning_ or _Two Tragedies_; +but I am not sure that Arden contains another scene which can be +definitely pronounced to be beyond Yarington's ability, though there are +many scattered passages displaying such poetry as we find nowhere in the +_Two Tragedies_. That Yarington could write vigorously is shown in the +scene where Fallerio hires the two murderers (who remind us of Shagbag +and Black Will in _Arden_) to murder his nephew; and again in the +quarrel between these two ruffians. Allenso's affection for his little +cousin and solicitude at their parting are tenderly portrayed with +homely touches of quiet pathos. The diction of the _Two Tragedies_ is +plain and unadorned. In reading _Arden_ we sometimes feel that the +simplicity of language has been deliberately adopted for artistic +purposes; that the author held plenty of strength in reserve, and would +not have been wanting if the argument had demanded a loftier style. In +Yarington's case we have no such feeling. He seems to be giving us the +best that he had to give; and it must be confessed that he is +intolerably flat at times. It is difficult to resist a smile when the +compassionate Neighbour (in his shirt), discovering poor Thomas +Winchester with the hammer sticking in his head, delivers himself after +this fashion:-- + + "What cruell hand hath done so foule a deede, + Thus to bemangle a distressed youth + Without all pittie or a due remorse! + See how the hammer sticketh in his head + Wherewith this honest youth is done to death! + Speak, honest _Thomas_, if any speach remaine: + What cruell hand hath done this villanie?" + +Merry's "last dying speech and confession" is as nasty as such things +usually are. + +In the introduction to _Arden of Feversham_ I intend to return to the +consideration of Yarington's _Two Tragedies_. + + + + +Two Lamentable Tragedies. + + +The one, of the Murther of _Maister_ Beech A _Chaundler in_ +Thames-streete, and his boye, done by _Thomas Merry_. + +_The other of a Young childe murthered_ in a Wood by two Ruffins, _with +the consent of his Vnckle_. + +By ROB. YARINGTON. + +LONDON. + +Printed for _Mathew Lawe, and are to be solde at _his Shop in Paules +Church-yarde neere vnto S. Austines Gate, at the signe of the Foxe_. +1601. + + + + +Two Tragedies in One. + + + _Enter Homicide, solus_. + +I have in vaine past through each stately streete, +And blinde-fold turning of this happie towne, +For wealth, for peace, and goodlie government, +Yet can I not finde out a minde, a heart +For blood and causelesse death to harbour in; +They all are bent with vertuous gainefull trade, +To get their needmentes for this mortall life, +And will not soile their well-addicted harts +With rape, extortion, murther, or the death +Of friend or foe, to gaine an Empery. +I cannot glut my blood-delighted eye +With mangled bodies which do gaspe and grone, +Readie to passe to faire Elizium, +Nor bath my greedie handes in reeking blood +Of fathers by their children murthered: +When all men else do weepe, lament and waile, +The sad exploites of fearefull tragedies, +It glads me so, that it delightes my heart, +To ad new tormentes to their bleeding smartes. + + _Enter Avarice_. + +But here comes _Avarice_, as if he sought, +Some busie worke for his pernicious thought: +Whether so fast, all-griping _Avarice_? + +_Ava_. Why, what carst thou? I seeke for one I misse. + +_Ho_. I may supplie the man you wish to have. + +_Ava_. Thou seemes to be a bold audatious knave; +I doe not like intruding companie, +That seeke to undermine my secrecie. + +_Ho_. Mistrust me not; I am thy faithfull friend. + +_Ava_. Many say so, that prove false in the end. + +_Ho_. But turne about and thou wilt know my face. + +_Ava_. It may be so, and know thy want of grace. +What! _Homicide_? thou art the man I seeke: +I reconcile me thus upon thy cheeke. [_Kisse, imbrace_. +Hadst thou nam'd blood and damn'd iniquitie, +I had forborne to bight so bitterlie. + +_Hom_. Knowst thou a hart wide open to receive, +A plot of horred desolation? +Tell me of this, thou art my cheefest good, +And I will quaffe thy health in bowles of blood. + +_Ava_. I know two men, that seem two innocents, +Whose lookes, surveied with iuditiall eyes, +Would seeme to beare the markes of honestie; +But snakes finde harbour mongst the fairest flowers, +Then never credit outward semblaunces. + + _Enter[4] Trueth_. + +I know their harts relentlesse, mercilesse, +And will performe through hope of benefit: +More dreadfull things then can be thought upon. + +_Hom_. If gaine will draw, I prethy then allure +Their hungrie harts with hope of recompence, +But tye dispaire unto those mooving hopes, +Unleast a deed of murther farther it, +Then blood on blood, shall overtake them all, +And we will make a bloodie feastivall. + +_Cove_. The plots are laide, the keyes of golden coine, +Hath op'd the secret closets of their harts. +Inter [_sic_], insult, make captive at thy will, +Themselves, and friends, with deedes of damned ill: +Yonder is _Truth_, she commeth to bewaile, +The times and parties that we worke upon. + +_Hom_. Why, let her weepe, lament and morne for me, +We are right bred of damn'd iniquitie, +And will go make a two-folde Tragedie. + [_Exeunt_. + +_Truth_. Goe you disturbers of a quiet soule, +Sad, greedy, gaping, hungrie _Canibals_, +That ioy to practise others miseries. +Gentles, prepare your teare-bedecked eyes, +To see two shewes of lamentation, +Besprinckled every where with guiltlesse blood, +Of harmlesse youth, and pretie innocents. +Our Stage doth weare habilliments of woe, +_Truth_ rues to tell the truth of these laments: +The one was done in famous London late, +Within that streete whose side the River Thames +Doth strive to wash from all impuritie: +But yet that silver stream can never wash, +The sad remembrance of that cursed deede, +Perform'd by cruell _Merry_ on iust _Beech_, +And his true boye poore _Thomas Winchester_. +The most here present, know this to be true: +Would _Truth_ were false, so this were but a tale! +The other further off, but yet too neere, +To those that felt and did the crueltie: +Neere _Padua_ this wicked deed was done, +By a false Uncle, on his brothers sonne, +Left to his carefull education +By dying Parents, with as strict a charge +As ever yet death-breathing brother gave. +Looke for no mirth, unlesse you take delight, +In mangled bodies, and in gaping wounds, +Bloodily made by mercy-wanting hands. +Truth will not faine, but yet doth grieve to showe, +This deed of ruthe and miserable woe. + + [_Exit_. + + + +[ACT THE FIRST.] + +[SCENE I.] + + + _Enter Merry_. + +I live in meane and discontented state, +But wherefore should I think of discontent? +I am belov'd, I have a pretty house, +A loving sister, and a carefull man, +That doe not thinke their dayes worke well at end, +Except it bring me in some benefit: +And well frequented is my little house +With many guestes and honest passengers, + + _Enter Beech and a friend_. + +Which may in time advance my humble state +To greater wealth and reputation. +And here comes friends to drinke some beare or ale; [_Sit in his Shop_. +They are my neighbours, they shall have the best. + +_Ne_. Come neighbour _Beech_, lets have our mornings draught +And wele go drinke it at yong _Merries_ house: +They say he hath the best in all this towne, +Besides they say he is an honest man, +And keepes good rule and orders in his house. + +_Beech_. He's so indeede; his conversation +Is full of honest harmlesse curtesie: +I dare presume, if that he be within, +Hele serve us well, and keepe us company. +See where he is, go in, ile follow you; [_Strive curtesies_. +Nay straine no curtesie, you shall goe before. + +_Mer_. Your welcome, neighbour, you are welcome, sir; +I praie sit downe, your verie welcome both. + +_Beech_. We thanke you for it, and we thinke no lesse. +Now fill two cans of your ould strongest beare; +That make so manie loose their little wits, +And make indentures as they go along. + +_Mer_. Hoe, sister _Rachell_! + +_Rach_. I come presently, + + _Enter Rachell_. + +_Mer_. Goe draw these gentlemen two cans of beare. +Your negligence that cannot tend the shop, +Will make our customers forsake the house. +Wheres _Harry Williams_ that he staies not here? + +_Rach_. My selfe was busie dressing up the house: +As for your man he is not verie well, +But sitteth sleeping by the kitchen fier. + +_Mer_. If you are busie, get you up againe; [_Exit_. +Ile draw my neighbours then their drinke my selfe, +Ile warrant you as good as any mans,-- +And yet no better; many have the like. + [_Exit for Beare_. + +_Neigh_. This showes him for a plain and honest man, +That will not flatter with too many wordes; +Some shriltong'd fellowes would have cogd and faind, +Saying, ile draw the best in Christendome. + +_Beech_. Hees none of those, but beares an honest minde, +And shames to utter what he cannot prove. + + _Enter Merry_. + +But here he comes: is that the best you have? + +_Mer_. It is the best upon mine honest worde. + +_Beech_. Then drinke to us. + +_Mer_. I drinke unto you both. + +_Nei_. _Beech_. We pledge you both, and thanke you hartelie. + +_Beech_. Heres to you sir. + +_Neigh_. I thank you. + + [_Maister Beech drinkes; drinke Neighbour_. + +_Neigh_. Tis good indeed and I had rather drinke +Such beare as this as any _Gascoine_ Wine: +But tis our _English_ manner to affect +Strange things, and price them at a greater rate, +Then home-bred things of better consequence. + +_Mer_. Tis true indeede; if all were of your mind, +My poore estate would sooner be advanc'd, +And our French Marchants seeke some other trade. + +_Beech_. Your poore estate! nay, neighbour, say not so, +For God be thanked you are well to live. + +_Mer_. Not so good neighbour, but a poore young man, +That would live better if I had the meanes: +But as I am I can content myselfe, +Till God amend my poore abilitie. + +_Neigh_. In time no doubt; why, man, you are but young, +And God, assure your selfe, hath wealth in store, +If you awaight his will with patience. + +_Beech_. Thankes be to God I live contentedlie, +And yet I cannot boast of mightie wealth: +But yet Gods blessings have beene infinit, +And farre beyond my expectations. +My shop is stor'd, I am not much in debt; +And here I speake it where I may be bold, +I have a score of poundes to helpe my neede, +If God should stretch his hand to visit me +With sicknesse or such like adversity. + +_Neigh_. Enough for this; now, neighbour, whats to pay? + +_Mer_. Two pence, good sir. + +_Beech_. Nay, pray, sir, forbeare; +Ile pay this reckoning, for it is but small. + +_Neigh_. I will not strive since yee will have it so. + +_Beech_. Neighbour, farewell. + + [_Exit Beech and Neigh_. + +_Mer_. Farewell unto you both. +His shop is stor'd, he is not much in debt, +He hath a score of poundes to helpe his neede: +I and a score too if the trueth were known. +I would I had a shop so stor'd with wares, +And fortie poundes to buy a bargain with, +When as occasion should be offered me; +Ide live as merrie as the wealthiest man +That hath his being within London walles. +I cannot buy my beare, my bread, my meate, +My fagots, coales, and such like necessaries, +At the best hand, because I want the coine, +That manie misers cofer up in bagges, +Having enough to serve their turnes besides. +Ah for a tricke to make this _Beeches_ trash +Forsake his cofer and to rest in mine! +I, marrie, sir, how may that tricke be done? +Marrie, with ease and great facilitie. +I will invent some new-found stratagem, +To bring his coyne to my possession. +What though his death relieve my povertie? +Gaine waites on courage, losse on cowardice. + + [_Exit_. + + + +[SCENE II.] + + + _Enter Pandino and Armenia sicke on a bed, Pertillo + their Sonne, Falleria his Brother, Sostrato his Wife, + Alinso their Sonne, and a Scrivener with a Will, &c_. + +_Pan_. Brother and sister, pray you both drawe neere, +And heere my will which you have promised +Shall be performde with wished providence. +This little Orphant I must leave behinde, +By your direction to be governed. +As for my wife and I, we do awaite +The blessed houre when it shall please the Lord, +To take us to the iust _Ierusalem_. +Our chiefest care is for that tender boye, +Which we should leave discomfortlesse behinde, +But that we do assure us of your love +And care to guide his weake unhable youth +In pathes of knowledge, grace, and godlinesse. +As for the riches of this mortall life, +We leave enough; foure hundreth pounds a yeare, +Besides two thousand pounds to make a stocke, +In money, iewels, plate, and houshold stuffe,-- +Which yearly rents and goods we leave to you, +To be surrendered into his hands, +When he attaines to yeeres of discreation. +My Will imports thus much, which you shall heare; +And you shall be my sole Executor. + +_Fall_. Brother and sister, how my hart laments +To see your weake and sicke afflicted limmes +Neere overcome with dyrefull malladies, +The God of heaven can truly testifie,-- +Which, to speake plaine, is nere a whit at all-- + [_To the people_. +Which knowes the secret corners of my heart; +But for the care you do impose on me, +For the tuition of your little sonne, +Thinke, my kinde brother, I will meditate, +Both day and night, how I may best fulfill, +The care and trust, reposed in your Will,-- +And see him posted quickly after you. [_To the people_. + +_Arm_. Enough, kinde brother; we assure us so, +Else would we seeke another friend abroade, +To do our willes and dying Testament. +Nature and love will have a double care +To bring him up with carefull diligence, +As best beseemes one of such parentage. + +_Fall_. Assure your selfe, the safest course I can, +Shall be provided for your little sonne,-- +He shall be sent unto the King of Heaven. [_To the people_. + +_Sostr_. Feare not, good brother, and my loving sister, +But we will have as tender care of him +As if he were our owne ten thousand times: +God will be father of the fatherlesse, +And keepe him from all care and wretchednesse. + +_Allenso_. Unckle and Aunt take comfort, I will see +My little coozen have no injurie. + +_Pan_. _Ar_. We thanke you all, come let the Will be read, + +_Fall_.--If it were seald, I would you both were dead. + +_Scrive_. Then give attention, I will read the Will. + _Reade the Will. +In the name of God. Amen.--I, &c_. + +_Pan_. Thus, if my Sonne miscarry, my deare brother, +You and your sonne shall then enjoy the land +And all the goods which he should have possess'd. + +_Fall_. If he miscarry, brother! God forbid! +God blesse mine Nephew, that thine eyes may see +Thy childrens children with prosperity! +I had rather see the little urchin hang'd [_To the people_. +Then he should live and I forgoe the land. + +_Ar_. Thankes, gentle brother; husband seale the will. + +_Pand_. Give me a Pen and Inke first to subscribe; +I write so ill through very feeblenesse, +That I can scarcely know this hand for mine, +But that you all can witnesse that it is. + +_Scri_. Give me the seale: I pray, sir, take it of. +This you deliver for your latest will, +And do confirme it for your Testament? + +_Pand_. With all my hart; here, brother, keepe my Will, +And I referre me to the will of God, +Praying him deale as well with you and yours, +As you no doubt will deale with my poore child. +Come, my _Pertillo_, let me blesse thee, boy, +And lay my halfe-dead hand upon thy head. +God graunt those days that are cut off in me, +With ioy and peace may multiply in thee. +Be slowe to wrath, obey thy Unckle still, +Submit thy selfe unto Gods holy will, +In deede and word see thou be ever true; +So brother, childe, and kinsfolkes, all adue. [_He dyeth_. + +_Per_. Ah my deere Mother, is my father dead? + +_Ar_. I, my sweete boye, his soule to heaven is fled, +But I shall after him immediatly. +Then take my latest blessing ere I dye: +Come, let me kisse thy little tender lips, +Cold death hath tane possession of thy mother; +Let me imbrace thee in my dying armes, +And pray the Lord protect thee from al harmes. +Brother, I feare, this Child when I am gone, +Wil have great cause of griefe and hideous feare: +You will protect him, but I prophecie, +His share will be of woe and misery: +But mothers feares do make these cares arise; +Come, boye, and close thy mothers dying eyes. +Brother and sister, here [_sic_] the latest words, +That your dead sister leaves for memory: +If you deale ill with this distressed boye, +God will revenge poore orphants iniuries, +If you deale well, as I do hope you will, +God will defend both you and yours from ill. +Farewell, farewell, now let me breath my last, +Into his dearest mouth, that wanteth breath, +And as we lov'd in life imbrace in death. +Brother and sister this is all I pray, +Tender my boye when we are laide in clay. [_Dyeth_. + +_Allen_. Gods holy Angell guide your loving soules +Unto a place of endlesse happinesse. + +_Sostr_. Amen, Amen. Ah, what a care she had +Of her small Orphant! She did dying pray, +To love her Childe when she was laide in claye. + +_Scr_. Ah blame her not although she held it deare; +She left him yonge, the greater cause of feare. + +_Fall_. Knew she my mind, it would recall her life, [_To the people_. +And like a staring Commet she would moove +Our harts to think of desolation.-- +Scrivenor, have you certified the Will? + +_Scri_. I have. + +_Fall_. Then theres two Duckets for your paines. + +_Scri_. Thankes, gentle sir, and for this time farewell. + [_Exit_. + +_Sost_. Come pretty coozen, cozened by grim death +Of thy most carefull parents all too soone; +Weepe not, sweete boye, thou shalt have cause to say, +Thy Aunt was kinde, though parents lye in claye. + +_Pert_. But give me leave first to lament the losse, +Of my deere parents, nature bindeth me, +To waile the death of those that gave me life, +And if I live untill I be a man, +I will erect a sumptuous monument, +And leave remembrance to ensuing times +Of kind _Pandino_ and _Armenia_. + +_Allen_. That shall not neede; my father will erect +That sad memoriall of their timeles[5] death, +And at that tombe we will lament and say +Soft lye the bones of faire _Armenia_. + +_Fall_. Surcease,_ Allenso_; thats a booteless cost, +The Will imports no such iniunction: +I will not spend my little Nephewes wealth, +In such vaine toyes; they shall have funerall, +But with no stately ceremoniall pompe, +Thats good for nought but fooles to gase uppon. +Live thou in hope to have thine unckles land. + +_Allen_. His land! why, father, you have land enough, +And more by much then I do know to use: +I would his vertues would in me survive, +So should my Unckle seeme in me alive. +But to your will I doe submit my selfe; +Do what you please concerning funeralls. + +_Fall_. Come then, away, that we may take in hand, +To have possession of my brothers land, +His goods and all untill he come of age +To rule and governe such possessions.-- +That shalbe never, or ile misse my marke, +Till I surrender up my life to death: +And then my Sonne shalbe his fathers heire, +And mount aloft to honors happy chaire. + + [_Exeunt omnes_. + + + +[SCENE III.] + + + _Enter Merry, solus_. + +_Beech_ hath a score of pounds to helpe his neede, +And I may starve ere he will lend it me: +But in dispight ile have it ere I sleepe, +Although I send him to eternall rest. +But, shallow foole, thou talkst of mighty things, +And canst not compasse what thou dost conceive. +Stay, let me see, ile fetch him to my house, +And in my garret quickly murther him: +The night conceales all in her pitchie cloake, +And none can open what I meane to hide. +But then his boy will say I fetcht him foorth: +I am resolv'd he shall be murthered to [_sic_]; +This toole shall write, subscribe, and seale their death +And send them safely to another world. +But then my sister, and my man at home, +Will not conceale it when the deede is done. +Tush, one for love, the other for reward, +Will never tell the world my close intent. +My conscience saith it is a damned deede +To traine one foorth, and slay him privily. +Peace, conscience, peace, thou art too scripulous [_sic_]; +Gaine doth attend[6] this resolution. +Hence, dastard feare! I must, I can, I will, +Kill my best friend to get a bag of gold. +They shall dye both, had they a thousand lives; +And therefore I will place this hammer here, +And take it as I follow _Beech_ up staires, +That suddenlie, before he is aware, +I may with blowes dash out his hatefull braines.-- +Hoe, _Rachell_, bring my cloake; look to the house, +I will returne againe immediately. + +_Rach_. Here it is brother, I pray you stay not long; +Guesse[7] will come in, 'tis almost supper time. + [_Ex. Ra_. + +_Mer_. Let others suppe, ile make a bloudier feast +Then ever yet was drest in _Merryes_ house. +Be like thy selfe then, have a merrie hart, +Thou shalt have gold to mend thy povertie, +And after this live ever wealthilie. + + _Then Merry must passe to Beeches shoppe, + who must sit in his shop, and Winchester + his boy stand by: Beech reading_. + +What, neighbour _Beech_, so godly occupied? + +_Beech_. I, maister _Merry_; it were better reade, +Then meditate on idle fantasies. + +_Mer_. You speake the trueth; there is a friend or two +Of yours making merry in my house, +And would desire to have your company. + +_Beech_. Know you their names? + +_Mer_. No truely, nor the men. +I never stoode to question them of that, +But they desire your presence earnestlie. + +_Beech_. I pray you tell them that I cannot come, +Tis supper time, and many will resort +For ware at this time, above all other times; +Tis Friday night besides, and Bartholomew eve, +Therefore good neighbour make my just excuse. + +_Mer_. In trueth they told me that you should not stay, +Goe but to drinke, you may come quick againe,-- +But not and if my hand and hammer hold. [_(To the) people_. + +_Beech_. I am unwilling, but I do not care, +And if I go to see the Company. + +_Mer_. Come quickly then, they think we stay too long. + +_Beech_. Ile cut a peece of cheese to drink withall. + +_Mer_. I, take the farewell of your cutting knife, +Here is a hand shall helpe to cut your throate, +And give my selfe a fairing[8] from your chest.-- +What are you ready, will you goe along? + +_Beech_. I, now I am; boy, looke you tend the shoppe; +If any aske, come for me to the _Bull_. +I wonder who they are that aske for me. + +_Mer_. I know not that, you shall see presentlie. +Goe up those staires, your friends do stay above.-- +Here is that friend shall shake you by the head, +And make you stagger ere he speake to you. + + _Then being in the upper Rome Merry strickes + him in the head fifteene times_. + +Now you are safe, I would the boy were so; +But wherefore wish I, for he shall not live? +For if he doe, I shall not live myselfe. + + [_Merry wiped [sic] his face from blood_. + +Lets see what mony he hath in his purse. +Masse heres ten groates, heres something for my pains. +But I must be rewarded better yet. + + _Enter Rachell and Harry Williams_. + +_Wil_. Who was it, _Rachell_, that went up the staires? + +_Rach_. It was my brother, and a little man +Of black complexion, but I know him not. + +_Wil_. Why do you not then carry up a light, +But suffer them to tarry in the darke? + +_Rach_. I had forgot, but I will beare one up. [_Exit up_. + +_Wil_. Do so, I prethee; he will chide anon. [_Exit_. + + [_Rachell speaketh to her Brother_. + +_Rach_. Oh brother, brother, what have you done? + +_Mer_. Why, murtherd one that would have murtherd me. + +_Rach_. We are undone, brother, we are undone. +What shall I say, for we are quite undone? + +_Mer_. Quiet thy selfe, sister; all shalbe well. +But see in any case you do not tell, +This deede to _Williams_ nor to any one. + +_Rach_. No, no, I will not; was't not maister _Beech_? + +_Mer_. It was, it is, and I will kill his man, [_Exit Rach_. +Or in attempting doe the best I can. + + _Enter Williams and Rachell_. + +_Wil_. What was the matter that you cride so lowde? + +_Rach_. I must not tell you, but we are undone. + +_Wil_. You must not tell me, but we are undone! +Ile know the cause wherefore we are undone. [_Exit up_. + +_Rach_. Oh would the thing were but to doe againe! +The thought thereof doth rent my hart in twaine. [_She goes up_. + + _Williams to Merry above_. + +_Wil_. Oh maister, maister, what have you done? + +_Mer_. Why slaine a knave that would have murtherd me; +Better to kill, then to be kild my selfe. + +_Wil_. With what? wherewith? how have you slaine the man? + +_Mer_. Why, with this hammer I knockt out his braines. + +_Wil_. Oh it was beastly so to butcher him. +If any quarrell were twixt him and you, +You should have bad him meete you in the field, +Not like a coward under your owne roofe +To knock him downe as he had bin an oxe, +Or silly sheepe prepard for slaughter house. +The Lord is just, and will revenge his blood, +On you and yours for this extremitie. +I will not stay an hower within your house, +It is the wickedst deed that ere was done. + +_Mer_. Oh, sir, content your selfe, all shall be well; +Whats done already cannot be undone. + +_Rach_. Oh would to God, the deed were now to do, +And I were privie to your ill intent, +You should not do it then for all the world. +But prethie, _Harry_, do not leave the house, +For then suspition will arise thereof, +And 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. +I tell you plaine, I would not have him dye, +Might I enjoy the _Soldans_ Emperie. + +_Fall_. What, wilt thou barre thy selfe of happinesse? +Stop the large streame of pleasures which would flowe, +And still attend on thee like Servingmen? +Preferre the life of him that loves thee not +Before thine owne and my felicitie? + +_Allen_. Ide rather choose to feede on carefulnesse, +To ditche, to delve, and labour for my bread, +Nay rather choose to begge from doore to doore, +Then condiscend to offer violence +To young _Pertillo_ in his innocence. +I know you speake, to sound what mightie share +_Pertillo_ hath in my affection. + +_Fall_. In faith I do not; therefore, prethie, say, +Wilt thou consent to have him made away? + +_Allen_. Why, then in faithe I am ashamde to think, +I had my being from so foule a lumpe +Of adulation and unthankfulnesse. +Ah, had their dying praiers no availe +Within your hart? no, damnd extorcion +Hath left no roome for grace to harbor in! +Audacious sinne, how canst thou make him say +Consent to make my brothers sonne away? + +_Fall_. Nay if you ginne to brawle, withdrawe your selfe, +But utter not the motion[10] that I made, +As you love me, or do regarde your life. + +_Allen_. And as you love my safetie and your soule, +Let grace and feare of God, such thoughts controule. + +_Fall_. Still pratling! let your grace and feare alone, +And leave me quickly to my private thoughts, +Or with my sword ile open wide a gate, +For wrath and bloudie death to enter in. + +_Allen_. Better you gave me death and buriall, +Then such foule deeds should overthrow us all. + +_Fall_. Still are you wagging that rebellious tounge! +Ile dig it out for Crowes to feede upon, +If thou continue longer in my sight. [_Exit Allenso_. +He loves him better then he loves his life! +Heres repetition of my brothers care, +Of sisters chardge, of grace, and feare of God. +Feare dastards, cowards, faint hart runawayes! +Ile feare no coulours[11] to obteine my will, +Though all the fiends in hell were opposite. +Ide rather loose mine eye, my hand, my foote, +Be blinde, wante senses, and be ever lame, +Then be tormented with such discontent +This resignation would afflict me with. +Be blithe, my boy, thy life shall sure be done, +Before the setting of the morrowe sunne. + [_Exit_. + + _Enter Avarice and Homicide bloody_. + +_Hom_. Make hast, runne headlong to destruction! +I like thy temper that canst change a heart +From yeelding flesh to Flinte and Adamant. +Thou hitst it home, where thou doost fasten holde; +Nothing can separate the love of golde. + +_Ava_. Feare no relenting, I dare pawne my soule, +(And thats no gadge, it is the divels due) +He shall imbrew his greedie griping hands +In the dead bosome of the bloodie boy, +And winde himselfe, his sonne, and harmlesse wife, +In endlesse foldes of sure destruction. +Now, _Homicide_, thy lookes are like thyselfe, +For blood and death are thy companions. +Let my confounding plots but goe before, +And thou shalt wade up to the chin in gore. + +_Homi_. I finde it true, for where thou art let in, +There is no scruple made of any sinne; +The world may see thou art the roote of ill, +For but for thee poore _Beech_ had lived still. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + + +[ACT THE SECOND.] + +[SCENE I.] + + + _Enter Rachell and Merry_. + +_Rach_. Oh my deare brother, what a heap of woe, +Your rashnesse hath powrd downe upon your head! +Where shall we hide this trumpet of your shame, +This timelesse ougly map of crueltie? +Brother, if _Williams_ do reveale the truth, +Then brother, then, begins our sceane of ruthe. + +_Mer_. I feare not _Williams_, but I feare the boy, +Who knew I fetcht his maister to my house. + +_Rach_. What, doth the boy know whereabouts you dwell? + +_Mer_. I, that tormentes me worse than panges of hell:-- +He must be slaine to, else hele utter all. + +_Rach_. Harke, brother, harke, me thinkes I here on[12] call. + +_Mer_. Go downe and see; pray God my man keep close; +If he prove long-tongd then my daies are done. +The boy must die, there is no helpe at all; +For on his life my verie life dependes. +Besides I cannot compasse what I would, +Unlesse the boy be quicklie made away. +This that abridgde his haplesse maisters daies, +Shall leave such sound memorials one [_sic_] his head, +That he shall quite forget who did him harme, +Or train'd his master to this bloodie feast.-- +Why, how now, _Rachell_? who did call below? + + _Enter Rachell_. + +_Rach_. A maide that came to have a pennie loafe. + +_Mer_. I would a pennie loafe cost me a pound, +Provided _Beeches_ boy had eate his last. + +_Rach_. Perchance the boy doth not remember you. + +_Mer_. It may be so,--but ile remember him. [_To people_. +And send him quicklie with a bloodie scrowle, +To greete his maister in another world. + +_Rach_. Ile go to _Beeches_ on a faind excuse, +To see if he will ask me for his maister. + +_Mer_. No, get you up, you shall not stir abroade, +And when I call, come quicklie to the dore. + +_Rach_. Brother, or that, or any thing beside, +To please your mind, or ease your miserie. [_Exit_. + +_Mer_. I am knee-deepe, ile wade up to the wast, +To end my hart of feare, and to atteine +The hoped end of my intention. +But I maie see, if I have eyes to see, +And if my understanding be not blind, +How manie dangers do alreadie waight, +Upon my steppes of bold securitie. +_Williams_ is fled, perchaunce to utter all; +Thats but perchance, naie rather flatlie no. +But should he tell, I can but die a death; +Should he conceale, the boy would utter it; +The boy must die, there is no remedie. + + [_The boy sitting at his maisters dore_. + +_Win_. I wonder that my maister staies so long; +He had not wont to be abroade so late. +Yonder comes one; I thinke that same is he. + +_Mer_. I see the boye sits at his maisters doore. +Or now, or never; _Merry_, stir thy selfe, +And rid thy hart from feare and jealousie.-- +_Thomas Winchester_, go quicklie to your shoppe: +What, sit you still? your maister is at hand. + + [_When the boy goeth into the shoppe Merrie striketh six blowes + on his head & with the seaventh leaves the hammer sticking in his + head; the boy groaning must be heard by a maide who must crye to + her Maister. + [Merrie flieth_. + +_Mai_. Oh God I thinke theres theeves in _Beeches_ shop. + + _Enter one in his shirt and a maide, and comming to Beeches shop + findes the boy murthered_. + +_Nei_. What cruell hand hath done so foule a deede, +Thus to bemangle a distressed youth +Without all pittie or a due remorse! +See how the hammer sticketh in his head, +Wherewith this honest youth is done to death! +Speak, honest _Thomas_, if any speach remaine: +What cruell hand hath done this villanie? +He cannot speake, his senses are bereft. +Hoe, neighbour _Loney_! pray come downe with speede, +Your tennant _Beeches_ man is murthered. + +_Loney sleeping_. What, would you have some mustard? + +_Nei_. Your tennant _Beeches_ man, is murthered. + +_Lo_. Whose smothered, I thinke you lack your wit +What, neighbor? what make[13] you here so late? [_Out at a window_. + +_Nei_. I was affrighted by a sodaine crie, +And comming downe saw maister _Beeches_ man, +Thus with a hammer sticking in his head. [_Comes to win_. + +_Loney_. Ah wo is me for _Thomas Winchester_, +The truest soule that ever maister had! +Wheres maister _Beech_? + +_Neigh_. Nay, no body can tell: +Did you see any running from the dore, +When you lookt out and heard the youngman crie? + +_Maid_. Yes I saw two trulie to my thinking, but they ranne away as fast +as their hands could beare them.--By my troth twas so darke I could see +no bodie.--[_To people_. Praie God Maister _Beech_ hath not hurt his boy +in his patience and if he have he must be hangd in his choller. + +_Lo_. I dare be sworne he would not strike him thus, +Praie God his Maister be not slaine himselfe. +The night growes late, and we will have this course +Be watch'd all night; to morrow we shall see +Whence sprang this strange uncivill crueltie. + +_Nei_. Neighbour good night. + +_Lon_. Neighbors all good night. + +_Ma_. Praie God I never see so sad a sight. + + [_Exeunt omnes_. + + _Enter Merry knocking at the doore, and Rachell comes downe_. + +_Mer_. Oh sister, sister, now I am pursu'd! +The mightie clamour that the boy did make, +Hath raisde the neighbours round about the street: +So that I know not where to hide my selfe. + +_Ra_. What, brother! have you kild _Beeches_ boy? + +_Mer_. No, no, not I, but yet another hath. +Come, come to bed, for feare we be descri'd: +The fearfullest night that ever _Merry_ knew! + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +[SCENE II.] + + + _Enter Falleria and two Ruffaines_. + +_Fall_. Seeme it not strange, resolved gentlemen,[14] +That I thus privatelie have severed you, +To open secret furrowes of my hart. +Think not I do intend to undermine, +Your passed lives, although you know I am +A man to whom the true unpartiall sworde, +Of equall justice is delivered. +Therefore sweare both, as you respect your soules, +At the last dreadfull sessions held in heaven, +First to conceale, and next to execute, +What I reveale, and shall enioyne you to. + +_Both_. So you rewarde us, whatsoever it be, +We vowe performance, and true secrecie. + +_Fall_. There go aside, yee seeming semblances, +Of equall justice, and true pietie, +And lay my hearts corrupted Cytadell +Wide open to your thoughts to look into. +Know I am named _Fallerio_ to deceive +The world with shew of truth and honestie, +But yet nor truth, nor honestie abides +Within my thoughts, but falshood, crueltie, +Blood-sucking _Avarice_, and all the sinnes, +That hale men on to bloodie stratagems, +Like to your selves, which care not how you gaine, +By blood, extorcion, falshood, periurie, +So you may have a pleasing recompence: [_They start_. +Start not aside, depart not from your selves, +I know your composition is as mine, +Of bloud, extortion, falshood, periurie, +True-branded with the marke of wickednesse. + +1 _Ruffin_. Be not so bitter; we are they indeede, +That would deprive our fathers of their lives, +So we were sure to have a benefit: +I way no more the murthring of a child, +Drag'd from the sucking bosome of his mother, +Then I respect to quaffe a boule of wine, +Unto his health, that dearely loveth me. + +2 _Ruff_. Where golde rewardeth, were apparent death, +Before mine eyes, bolde, hartie, visible, +Ide wrastle with him for a deadly fall, +Or I would loose my guerdon promised. +Ide hang my brother for to wear his coate, +That all that saw me might have cause to say, +There is a hart more firme then Adamant, +To practise execrable butcheries. + +_Fall_. I know that well, for were I not assur'd +Of your performance in this enterprice, +I would not ope the closet of my brest, +To let you know my close intention. +There is a little boy, an urchin lad, +That stands betweene me and the glorious rayes, +Of my soule-wishing sunne of happinesse. +There is a thicket ten miles from this place, +Whose secret ambush and unused wayes +Doth seeme to ioyne with our conspiracie: +There murther him, and when the deed is done, +Cast his dead body in some durtie ditch, +And leave him for the fowles to feed upon. +Do this, here is two hundreth markes in golde, +To harten on your resolution: +Two hundreth more, after the deed is done, +Ile pay you more for satisfaction. + +1 _Ruff_. Swones her's rewards would make one kill himselfe, +To leave his progenie so rich a prize! +Were twentie lives engadged for this coine, +Ide end them all, to have the money mine. + +2 _Ruff_. Who would not hazard life nay soule and all, +For such a franke and bounteous pay-maister? +Sblood! what labor is't to kill a boy? +It is but thus, and then the taske is done. +It grieves me most, that when this taske is past, +I have no more to occupie my selfe. +Two hundred markes to give a paltrie stab! +I am impatient till I see the brat. + +_Fall_. That must be done with cunning secrecie, +I have devisde to send the boye abroade, +With this excuse, to have him fostered, +In better manners than this place affoords. +My wife, though loath indeed to part with him, +Yet for his good, she will forgoe her joy, +With hope in time to have more firme delights, +Which she expects from young _Pertillos_ life. + +2 _Ruff_. Call you him _Pertillo_, faith leave out the _T_. + +_Fall_. Why so? + +_Ruff_. Because _Perillo_ will remaine, +For he shall surely perish if I live. +What do you call the father of the child? + +_Fall_. Why man, he hath no father left alive. + +1 _Ruff_.--Yes, such a father, that doth see and know, +How we do plot this little infants woe. [_To the people_. + +2 _Ruff_. Why, then his little sonne is much to blame, +That doth not keepe his father company. +When shall we have deliverie of the boy? + +_Fall_. To morrow morning by the breake of day: +And you must sweare youle see him safely brought, +Unto the place that I do send him to. + +2 _Ruff_. That may we safely, for you meane to send +Him to the wood and there his journey end.[15] +Both soule and limbes shall have a place to rest, +In earth the last, the first in _Abrams_ brest. + +_Fall_. Come gentlemen, this night go rest with me, +To morrow end _Pertillos_ tragedie. + + [_Exeunt omnes_. + + + +[SCENE III.] + + + _Enter Merry and Rachell_. + +_Mer_. Sister, now all my golde-expected hopes +Of future good is plainely vanished, +And in her stead grim-visadged dispaire, +Hath tane possession of my guiltie heart. +Desire to gaine began this desperate acte; +Now plaine apparance of destruction, +Of soule and body, waights upon my sinne. +Although we hide our sinnes from mortall men, +Whose glasse of knowledge is the face of man, +The eye of heaven beholdes our wickednesse, +And will no doubt revenge the innocent, + +_Rach_. Ah, do not so disconsolate your selfe, +Nor adde new streames of sorrow to your griefe, +Which like a spring tide over-swels the bankes, +Least you do make an inundation +And so be borne away with swiftest tides +Of ugly feare and strong dispairing thoughts. +I am your sister; though a silly Maide, +Ile be your true and faithfull comforter. + +_Mer_. _Rachell_, I see thy love is infinite, +And sorrow hath so borne my thoughts away, +That I had almost quite forgot my selfe. +Helpe me, deare sister, to convey from hence +The spectacle of inhumanitie. + +_Rach_. Whether would you convey this lumpe of dust +Untimely murthered by your lucklesse hand? + +_Mer_. To the lowe roome, where we will cover it, +With Fagots, till the evening doe approche: +In the meane time I will bethinke my selfe, +How I may best convey it foorth of doores; +For if we keepe it longer in the house, +The savour will be felt throughout the streete, +Which will betray us to destruction. +Oh what a horror brings this beastlinesse, +This chiefe of sinnes, this self-accusing crime +Of murther! now I shame to know my selfe, +That am estrang'd so much from that I was, +True, harmlesse, honest, full of curtesie, +Now false, deceitfull, full of injurie. +Hould thou his heeles, ile bear his wounded head: +Would he did live, so I myself were dead! + + [_Bring down the body, and cover it over with Faggots himselfe_. + +_Rach_. Those little stickes, do hide the murthred course, +But stickes, nor ought besides, can hide the sinne. +He sits on high, whose quick all-seeing eye, +Cannot be blinded by mans subtilties. + +_Mer_. Look every where, can you discerne him now? + +_Rach_. Not with mine eye, but with my heart I can. + +_Mer_. That is because thou knowest I laide him there: +To guiltinesse each thought begetteth feare. +But go, my true, though wofull comforter, +Wipe up the blood in every place above, +So that no drop be found about the house: +I know all houses will be searcht anon. +Then burne the clothes, with which you wipe the ground +That no apparant signe of blood be found. + +_Rach_. I will, I will; oh, would to God I could +As cleerely wash your conscience from the deed +As I can cleanse the house from least suspect +Of murthrous deed, and beastly crueltie! + +_Mer_. Cease to wish vainely, let us seeke to save +Our names, our fames, our lives and all we have. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +[SCENE IV.] + + + _Enter three or foure neighbours together_. + +1 _Neigh_. Neighbours, tis bruted all about the towne +That _Robert Beech_, a honest Chaundelor, +Had his man deadly wounded yester night, +At twelve a clock, when all men were a sleepe. + +2. Where was his maister, when the deed was done? + +3. No man can tell, for he is missing to, +Some men suspect that he hath done the fact, +And that for feare the man is fled away; +Others, that knew his honest harmlesse life, +Feare that himselfe is likewise made away. + +4. Then let commaundement every where be given, +That sinkes and gutters, privies, crevises, +And every place where blood may be conceald, +Be throughly searcht, swept, washt, and neerely sought, +To see if we can finde the murther out. +And least that _Beech_ be throwne into the _Thames_, +Let charge be given unto the watermen +That, if they see the body of a man, +Floting in any place about the _Thames_, +That straight they bring it unto _Lambert Hill_, +Where _Beech_ did dwell when he did live in health. + +1 _Neigh_. Ile see this charge performd immediatly. + +4. Now let us go to Maister _Beeches_ shop, [_Exit_. +To see if that the boy can give us light, +Of those suspitions which this cause doth yeeld. + +2. This is the house; call Maister _Loney_ forth. + +3. Hoe, Maister _Loney_! doth the boy yet live? + + _Enter Loney_. + +Or can he utter who hath done him wrong. + +_Lo_. He is not dead but hath a dying life, +For neither speech, nor any sense at all, +Abideth in the poore unhappie youth. + +4. Here [_sic_] you of anie where his Maister is? + +_Lo_. No, would we could; we all, that knew his life, +Suspect him not for any such offence. + +4. Bring forth the boy, that we may see his wounds. + + [_Bringes him forth in a chaire with a hammer sticking + in his head_. + +What say the Surgeons to the youngmans woundes? + +_Lo_. They give him over, saying everie wound, +Of sixe, whereof theres seav'n in his head, +Are mortall woundes and all incurable. + + [_They survey his woundes_. + + _Enter Merrie and Williams_. + +_Mer_. How now, good _Harry_, hast thou hid my fault? +The boy that knew I train'd his Maister forth, +Lies speechlesse, and even at the point of death. +If you prove true, I hope to scape the brunt. + +_Will_. Whie, feare not me, I have conceal'd it yet, +And will conceale it, have no doubt of me. + +_Mer_. Thanks, gentle _Harry_, thou shalt never lacke; +But thou and I will live as faithfull friendes, +And what I have, shalbe thine owne to use. +There is some monie for to spend to-day, +I know you meane to goe and see the faire. + +_Will_. I faine would go, but that I want a cloake. + +_Mer_. Thou shalt not want a cloake, or ought beside, +So thou wilt promise to be secret. [_Gives him his cloake_. +Here, take my Cloake, ile weare my best my selfe. +But where did you lie this last night? + +_Wil_. At the _three Cranes_, in a Carmans hay loft, +But ile have better lodging soone at night. + +_Mer_. Thou wilt be secret. I will go and see, [_Exit Willi_. +What stir they keepe about _Beeches_ shop, +Because I would avoyde suspition. [_Go to them_. +God save you, Gentlemen! is this the boy +That is reported to be murthered? + +4. He is not dead outright, but pleas'd it God, +Twere better he had left this wicked world, +Then to live thus in this extremitie. + +_Mer_. A cruell hand no doubt that did the deede. +Whie pull you not the hammer from his head? + +4. That must not be before the youth be dead, +Because the crowner and his quest may see, +The manner how he did receive his death. +Beare hence the bodie, and endevor all, +To finde them out that did the villanie. + + [_Exeunt omnes: manet Merrie_. + +_Mer_. Do what you can, cast all your wits about, +Rake kennells, gutters, seeke in everie place, +Yet I will overgoe your cunning heads, +If _Williams_ and my sister hold their tongues. +My neighbours holdes not me in least suspect, +Weighing of my former conversation. +Were _Beeches_ boy well conveid awaie, +Ide hope to overblow this stormie day. + + [_Exit_. + + + +[SCENE V.] + + + _Enter Falleria, Sostrata, Allenso, Pertillo, + and two Murtherers booted_. + +_Fall_. Now little cooze, you are content to goe, +From me your Unckle and your loving Aunt, +Your faithfull cozen, and your dearest friendes: +And all to come to be a skilfull man, +In learned artes and happy sciences? + +_Per_, I am content, because it pleaseth you. +My father bid I should obey your will, +And yeelde my selfe to your discretion: +Besides my cozen gave me yesternight, +A prettie nag to ride to _Padua_. +Of all my friends _Allenso_ loves me best. + +_Fall_. I thinke thou art inspir'd with prophesie: [_To the people_. +He loves thee better then I would he did.-- +Why, wherefore think you so, my prettie Nephew? + +_Per_. Because he taught me how to say my prayers, +To ride a horse, to start the fearfull hare. +He gave this dagger to me yester night, +This little Ring, and many pretie things; +For which, kind cooze, I rest your true debtor, +And one day I will make you recompence. + +_Fall_. I, with thy lands and goods thou leav'st behinde. + +_Allen_. Pray, father, let me go along with him.-- +Now, by the Saviour of my sinfull soule, [_To the people_. +I do not like those fellowes countenance. + +_Fall_. Sonne be content, weele go a seavenight hence, +And see him in his universitie weedes. +These will conduct him safely to the place; +Be well assured they'l have a care of him-- +That you shall never see _Pertillo_ more. [_To the people_. + +_Allen_. Father, I pray you to withdraw your selfe, +Ide have a word or two in secresie. + + [_They speake together_. + +_Sost_. Come living image of thy dead mother, +And take my loving farewell, ere we part. +I love thee dearly for thy fathers sake, +But for thy mothers dote with jealousie. +Oh I do feare, before I see thy face, +Or thou or I shall taste of bitternesse. +Kisse me, sweete boy, and, kissing, folde thine Aunte +Within the circle of thy little armes. +I neede not feare, death cannot offer wrong; +The majestie of thy presaging face, +Would vanquish him, though nere so terrible. +The angry Lionesse that is bereav'd +Of her imperious crew of forrest kings, +Would leave her furie, and defend thee safe +From Wolves, from Panthers, Leopards, and Shee Beares, +That live by rapine, stealth and crueltie. +Therefore to God I do commend thy state, +Who will be sure to guard thee tenderly. +And now to you, that carry hence this wealth, +This precious Jewell, this unprized good, +Have a regarde to use him carefully, +When he is parted from that serious care, +Which was imployde for his securitie. +I urge it not, that I misdoubt your truth; +I hope his Unckle doth perswade himselfe +You will be courteous, kinde, and affable. +Ther's some rewarde for hoped carefulnesse. + +_Allen_. Now by my soule I do suspect the men, +Especially the lower of the two: +See, what a hollow discontented looke +He casts, which brings apparant cause of feare: +The other, though he seeme more courteous, +Yet dooth his lookes presadge this thought in me. +As if he scorn'd to thinke on courtesie. + +_Fall_. Upon my life, my sonne you are to blame, +The gentlemen are honest, vertuous, +And will protect _Pertillo_ happily. +These thoughts proceed out of aboundant love, +Because you grieve to leave his company. +If ought betide him otherwise then well, +Let God require due vengaunce on my head, +And cut my hopes from all prosperitie. + +_Allen_. A heavie sentence, full of wondrous feare: +I cannot choose but credit such a vowe. +Come hether then, my joy, my chiefest hopes, +My second selfe, my earthly happinesse, +Lend me thy little prety cherry lip, +To kisse me, cozen; lay thy little hand +Upon my cheeke, and hug me tenderly. +Would the cleere rayes of thy two glorious sunnes +Could penetrate the corners of my heart, +That thou might see how much I tender thee. +My friends, beholde, within this little bulke +Two perfect bodyes are incorporate; +His life holdes mine, his heart conteines my hart, +His every lim containes my every part; +Without his being I can never be, +He being dead, prepare to bury me. +Oh thou immortall mover of the spheares +Within their circled revolusions, +Whose glorious image this small orphant beares, +Wrought by thy all-sufficient majestie, +Oh never suffer any wicked hand +To harme this heavenly workmanship of thine, +But let him live, great God, to honor thee +With vertuous life and spotlesse pietie! + +_Per_. Cease, my kind cooze; I cannot choose but weepe, +To see your care of my securitie. + +_Allen_.--Knewst thou my reason, that perswades my hart, +Thou wouldst not wonder, why I grieve to part: +But yet I would suspect my fathers vowe, +Did any other make it by your leave. + +_Fall_. What have you done? this lothnesse to depart, +Seemes you were trained up in tediousnesse, +Thou knowst not when and where to make an end. +Take him my friends, I know you will discharge +The hope and trust that I repose in you. + +_Both_. Assure your selfe, in every circumstance. + +_Fall_. Then to your horses quicklie, speedily, +Else we shall put our fingers in the eye, +And weepe for kindnesse till tomorrow morne. + +_Per_. Farewell good Unckle, Aunt, and loving cooze. + + [_Sostratus [sic] kisseth the boy weeping_. + +_Allen_. Farewell.--I fear me everlastinglie. + + [_Exeunt Sostratus and Allenso_. + + [_One of the Murtherers takes Falleria by the sleeve_. + +1 _mu_. You meane not now to have him murthered? + +_Fall_. Not murthered, what else? kill him, I say: +But wherefore makes thou question of my will? + +_Mur_. Because you wisht that God should be revenged, +If any ill betide the innocent. + +_Fall_. Oh that was nothing but to blind the eyes +Of my fond sonne, which loves him too too well. + +_Mer_. It is enough, it shall be surely done. + + [_Exeunt om_. + + + +[SCENE VI.] + + + _Enter Merry and Rachel with a bag_. + +_Mer_. What, hast thou sped? have you bought the bag? + +_Rach_. I, brother, here it is; what is't to do? + +_Mer_. To beare hence _Beeches_ body in the night. + +_Rach_. You cannot beare so great a waight your selfe, +And tis no trusting of another man. + +_Mer_. Yes well enough, as I will order it. +Ile cut him peece-meale; first his head and legs +Will be one burthen; then the mangled rest, +Will be another, which I will transport, +Beyond the water in a Ferryboate, +And throw it into _Paris-garden_ ditch,[16] +Fetch me the chopping knife, and in the meane +Ile move the fagots that do cover him. + [_Remove the Fagots_. + +_Rach_. Oh can you finde in hart to cut and carve, +His stone-colde flesh, and rob the greedy grave, +Of his dissevered blood-besprinkled lims? + +_Mer_. I, mary can I:--fetch the chopping knife. + +_Rach_. This deed is worse, then when you took his life. [_Exit_. + +_Mer_. But worse, or better, now it must be so, +Better do thus than feele a greater woe. + + _Enter Rach_. + +Here is the knife, I cannot stay to see +This barbarous deed of inhumanitie. [_Exit Rachel_. + + [_Merry begins to cut the body, and bindes the armes + behinde his back with Beeches garters; leaves out the + body, covers the head and legs againe_. + + _Enter Truth_. + +Yee glorious beames of that bright-shining lampe +That lights the starre-bespangled firmament, +And dimnes the glimmering shadowes of the night, +Why doost thou lend assistance to this wretch, +To shamble forth with bold audacitie +His lims, that beares thy makers semblance! +All you the sad spectators of this Acte, +Whose harts do taste a feeling pensivenesse +Of this unheard of, savadge massacre, +Oh be farre of to harbour such a thought +As this audacious murtherer put in ure![17] +I see your sorrowes flowe up to the brim, +And overflowe your cheekes with brinish teares, +But though this sight bring surfet to the eye, +Delight your eares with pleasing harmonie,[18] +That eares may counterchecke your eyes, and say, +Why shed you teares, this deede is but a playe? +His worke is done, he seekes to hide his sinne; +Ile waile his woe before his woe begin. [_Exit Trueth_. + +_Mer_. Now will I high me to the water side, +And fling this heavie burthen in a ditche, +Whereof my soule doth feele so great a waight +That it doth almost presse me downe with feare. + + + + +[ACT THE THIRD.] + +[SCENE I.] + + + _Enter Rachell_. + +Harke, _Rachell_, I will crosse the water straight +And fling this middle mention of a man +Into some ditch; then high me home againe, +To rid my house of that is left behinde. + +_Rach_. Where have you laid the legs & battered head? + +_Mer_. Under the fagots where it lay before. +Helpe me to put this trunk into the bag. + +_Rach_. My heart will not endure to handle it, +The sight hereof doth make me quake for feare, + +_Mer_. Ile do't my selfe; onely drie up the blood, +And burne the clothes as you have done before. [_Exit_. + +_Rach_. I feare thy soule will burne in flames of hell, +Unless repentance wash wash away thy sinne +With clensing teares of true contrition. +Ah, did not nature oversway my will, +The world should know this plot of damned ill. + + [_Exit_. + + + +[SCENE II.] + + + _Enter two Murtherers with Pertillo_. + +_Per_. I am so wearie in this combrous wood, +That I must needes go sit me downe and rest. + +1 _Mur_. What were we best? to kill him unawares, +Or give him notice what we doe intend? + +2 _Mur_. Whie then belike you meane to do your charge, +And feel no tast of pittie in your hart. + +1 _Mur_. Of pittie, man! that never enters heere, +And if it should, Ide threat my craven heart +To stab it home for harbouring such a thought. +I see no reason whie I should relent; +It is a charitable vertuous deede, +To end this princkocke[19] from this sinfull world. + +2 _Mur_. Such charitie will never have reward, +Unlesse it be with sting of conscience; +And thats a torment worse than Sisipus, +That rowles a restlesse stone against the hill. + +1 _Mur_. My conscience is not prickt with such conceit. + +2 _Mur_. That shews thee further off from hoped grace. + +1 _Mur_. Grace me no graces, I respect no grace, +But with a grace, to give a gracelesse stab; +To chop folkes legges and armes off by the stumpes, +To see what shift theile make to scramble home; +Pick out mens eyes, and tell them thats the sport +Of hood-man-blinde, without all sportivenesse. +If with a grace I can perform such pranckes, +My hart will give mine agents many thankes. + +2 _Mur_. Then God forbid I should consort my selfe +With one so far from grace and pietie, +Least being found within thy companie, +I should be partner of thy punishment. + +1 _Mur_. When wee have done what we have vowed to do, +My hart desires to have no fellowship +With those that talk of grace or godlinesse. +I nam'd not God, unleast twere with an othe, +Sence the first hour that I could walk alone; +And you that make so much of conscience, +By heaven thou art a damned hipocrite, +For thou hast vow'd to kill that sleeping boy, +And all to gaine two hundreth markes in gold. +I know this purenesse comes of pure deceit, +To draw me from from the murthering of the child, +That you alone might have the benefit. +You are too shallow; if you gull me so, +Chop of my head to make a Sowsing-tub, +And fill it full of tripes and chitterlinges. + +2 _Mur_. That thou shalt see my hart is far from fraud, +Or vaine illusion in this enterprize, +Which doth import the safetie of our soules, +There take my earnest of impietie. [_Give him his mony_. +Onely forbeare to lay thy ruder handes +Upon the poore mistrustlesse tender child. +As for our vowes, feare not their violence; +God will forgive on hartie penitence. + +1 _Mur_. Thou Eunuch, Capon, Dastard, fast and loose, +Thou weathercocke of mutabilitie, +White-livered Paisant, wilt thou vowe and sweare, +Face and make semblance with thy bagpipe othes +Of that thou never meanst to execute? +Pure cowardice, for feare to cracke thy necke +With the huge Caos of thy bodies waight, +Hath sure begot this true contrition. +Then fast and pray, and see if thou canst winne, +A goodlie pardon for thy hainous sinne. +As for the boy, this fatall instrument +Was mark'd by heaven to cut his line[20] of life, +And must supplie the knife of _Atropos_, +And if it doe not, let this maister-piece +(Which nature lent the world to wonder at) +Be slit in Carbonadoes[21] for the jawes +Of some men-eating hungrie Canniball. +By heaven ile kill him onely for this cause, +For that he came of vertuous Auncestors. + +2 _m_. But by that God which made that wondrous globe, +Wherein is seene his powerfull dietie,[22] +Thou shalt not kill him maugre all thy spight. +Sweare, and forsweare thyselfe ten thousand times. +Awake _Pertillo_, for thou art betrai'd; +This bloody slave intends to murther thee. [_Draw both_. + +1 _mur_. Both him, and all, that dare to rescue him. + +_Per_. Wherefore? because I slept without your leave? +Forgive my fault, ile never sleepe againe. + +2 _Mur_. No Child, thy wicked Unckle hath suborn'd +Both him and me to take thy life away, +Which I would save, but that this hellish impe +Will not content to spare thy guiltlesse blood. + +_Per_. Why should _Falleria_ seeke to have my life? + +2 _mur_. The lands and goods, thy father left his sonne, +Do hale thee on to thy destruction. + +_Per_. Oh needy treasure, harme-begetting good! +That safety[23] should procure the losse of blood! + +2 _mur_. Those lands and goods, thy father got with paine, +Are swords wherewith his little sonne is slaine. + +1 _mu_. Then let our swords let out his guiltlesse life. + +_Per_. Sweete, sowre, kinde, cruell, hold thy murthering knife, +And here [_sic_] me speake, before you murther me. + +2 _mu_. Feare not, sweet child, he shall not murther thee. + +1 _mu_. No, but my sword shall let his puddings forth. + +_Per_. First here me speake, thou map of Butcherie: +Tis but my goods and lands my Unckle seekes; +Having that safely, he desires no more. +I do protest by my dead parents soules, +By the deare love of false _Fallerios_ sonne, +Whose heart, my heart assures me, will be griev'd +To heare his fathers inhumanitie, +I will forsake my countrie, goods, and lands, +I, and my selfe will even change my selfe, +In name, in life, in habit, and in all, +And live in some farre-moved continent, +So you will spare my weake and tender youth, +Which cannot entertaine the stroake of death +In budding yeares and verie spring of life. + +1 _Mur_. Leave of these bootlesse protestations, +And use no ruth-enticing argumentes, +For if you do, ile lop you lim by lim, +And torture you for childish eloquence. + +2 _Mur_. Thou shalt not make his little finger ake. + +1 _Mur_. Yes, every part, and this shall proove it true. + [_Runnes Perillo in with his sworde_. + +_Per_. Oh I am slaine, the Lord forgive thy fact! +And give thee grace to dye with penitence. [_Dyeth_. + +2 _Mur_. A treacherous villaine, full of cowardise! +Ile make thee know that thou hast done amisse. + +1 _m_. Teach me that knowledge when you will or dare. + + [_They fight and kill one another; the relenter + having some more life, and the other dyeth_. + +1 _mur_. Swoones, I am peppered, I had need have salt, +Or else to morrow I shall yeeld a stincke, +Worse then a heape of dirty excrements. +Now by this Hilt, this golde was earn'd too deare: +Ah, how now death, wilt thou be conquerour? +Then vengeance light on them that made me so, +And ther's another farewell ere I goe. + [_Stab the other murtherer againe_. + +2 _mur_. Enough, enough, I had my death before. + + [_A hunt within_. + + _Enter the Duke of Padua, Turqualo, Vesuvio, Alberto, &c_. + +_Duke_. How now my Lords, was't not a gallant course, +Beleeve me sirs, I never saw a wretch, +Make better shift to save her little life. +The thickets full of buskes,[24] and scratching bryers, +A mightie dewe,[25] a many deepe mouth'd hounds, +Let loose in every place to crosse their course,-- +And yet the Hare got cleanly from them all. +I would not for a hundred pound in faith, +But that she had escaped with her life; +For we will winde a merry hunters home, +And starte her once again tomorrow morne. + +_Turq_. In troth my Lord, the little flocked[26] hound, +That had but three good legs to further him, +Twas formost still, and surer of his sent, +Then any one in all the crie besides. + +_Vesu_. But yet _Pendragon_ gave the Hare more turnes. + +_Alber_. That was because he was more polliticke, +And eyed her closely in her coverts still: +They all did well, and once more we will trie, +The subtile creature with a greater crie. + + _Enter Allenso, booted_. + +_Duke_. But say, what well accomplished Gentleman +Is that that comes into our company? + +_Vesu_. I know him well, it is _Fallerios_ sonne, +_Pandynos_ brother (a kinde Gentleman) +That dyed and left his little pretty sonne, +Unto his brother's[27] good direction. + +_Duke_. Stand close awhile, and overheare his wordes; +He seemes much over-gone with passion. + +_Allen_. Yee timorous thoughts that guide my giddy steps +In unknowne pathes of dreadfull wildernesse, +Why traitor-like do you conspire to holde +My pained heart twixt feare and jealousie? +My too much care hath brought me carelesly, +Into this woody savadge labyrinth, +And I can finde no way to issue out; +Feare hath so dazeled all my better part, +That reason hath forgot discreations art. +But in good time, see where is company.-- +Kinde Gentlemen, if you, unlike my selfe, +Are not incumbred with the circling wayes +Of this erronious winding wildernesse, +I pray you to direct me foorth this wood +And showe the pathe that leades to _Padua_. + +_Duke_. We all are _Paduans_, and we all intend +To passe forthwith with speed to _Padua_. + +_Allen_. I will attend upon you presently. [_See the bodyes_. + +_Duke_. Come then away:--but, gentlemen beholde, +A bloody sight, and murtherous spectacle! + +2 _Mur_. Oh, God, forgive me all my wickednesse +And take me to eternall happinesse! + +_Duke_. Harke one of them hath some small sparke of life, +To kindle knowledge of their sad mishaps. + +_Allen_. Ah gratious Lord, I know this wretched child, +And these two men that here lye murthered. + +_Vesu_. Do you, _Allenso_? + +_Allen_. I, my gracious Lord: +It was _Pertillo_ my dead Unckles sonne. +Now have my feares brought forth this fearefull childe +Of endlesse care, and everlasting griefe! + +_Duke_. Lay hands upon _Allenso_, Gentlemen. +Your presence doth confirme you had a share +In the performance of this crueltie. + +_Allen_. I do confesse I have so great a share +In this mishap, that I will give him thankes, +That will let foorth my sorrow-wounded soule +From out this goale of lamentation. + +_Duke_. Tis now too late to wish for hadiwist.[28] +Had you withheld your hand from this attempt, +Sorrow had never so imprisoned you. + +_Allen_. Oh my good Lord, do not mistake my case, +And yet my griefe is sure infallible. +The Lord of heaven can witnesse with my soule, +That I am guiltelesse of your wrong suspect, +But yet not griefelesse that the deed is done. + +_Duke_. Nay if you stand to justifie your selfe, +This gentleman whose life dooth seeme to stay, +Within his body till[29] he tell your shame, +Shall testifie of your integritie: +Speake then, thou sad Anatomy of death, +Who were the Agents of your wofulnesse? + +2 _Mur_. O be not blinded with a false surmise, +For least my tongue should faile to end the tale +Of our untimely fate-appointed death, +Know young _Allenso_ is as innocent +As is _Fallerio_ guiltie of the crime. +He, he it was, that with foure hundredth markes, +Whereof two hundred he paide presently, +Did hire[30] this damn'd villaine and my selfe +To massacre this harmelesse innocent: +But yet my conscience, toucht with some remorse, +Would faine have sav'd the young _Pertillos_ life, +But he remorselesse would not let him live, +But unawares thrust in his harmelesse brest +That life-bereaving fatall instrument: +Which cruell deede I seeking to revenge, +Have lost my life and paid the slave his due +Rewarde for spilling blood of innocents. +Surprise _Fallerio_, author of this ill; +Save young _Allenso_, he is guiltlesse still. [_Dyeth_. + +_Allen_. Oh sweetest honie mixt with bitter gall, +Oh Nightingale combinde with Ravens notes, +Thy speech is like a woodward that should say,-- +Let the tree live, but take the root away. +As though my life were ought but miserie, +Having my father slaine for infamie! + +_Duke_. What should incite _Fallerio_ to devise, +The overthrowe of this unhappie boy? + +_Vesu_. That may be easily guest, my gracious Lord, +To be the lands _Pandino_ left his sonne, +Which, after that the boy were murthered, +Discend to him by due inheritance. + +_Duke_. You deeme aright. See, gentlemen, the fruites, +Of coveting to have anothers right. +Oh wicked thought of greedie covetice! +Could neither nature, feare of punishment, +Scandall to wife and children, nor the feare, +Of Gods confounding strict severitie, +Allay the head-strong furie of thy will? +Beware, my friends, to wish unlawfull gaine; +It will beget strange actions full of feare, +And overthrowe the actor unawares. +For first _Fallerios_ life must satisfie +The large effusion of their guiltlesse bloods, +Traind on by him to these extremities; +Next, wife and children must be disposest, +Of lands and goods, and turnde to beggerie; +But most of all, his great and hainous sinne, +Will be an eye-sore to his guiltlesse kinne. +Beare hence away these models of his shame, +And let us prosecute the murtherer +With all the care and diligence we can. + + [_Two must be carrying away Pertillo_ + +_Allen_. Forbeare awhile to beare away my joy, +Which now is vanisht since his life is fled; +And give me leave to wash his deadly wound +With hartie teares, outflowing from those eyes +Which lov'd his sight, more then the sight of heaven. +Forgive me God for this idolatrie! +Thou ugly monster, grim imperious death, +Thou raw-bonde lumpe of foule deformitie, +Reguardlesse instrument of cruell fate, +Unparciall Sergeant, full of treacherie, +Why didst thou flatter my ill-boding thoughts, +And flesh my hopes with vaine illusions? +Why didst thou say, _Pertillo_ should not dye, +And yet, oh yet, hast done it cruelly? +Oh but beholde, with what a smiling cheere, +He intertain'd thy bloody harbinger! +See, thou transformer of a heavenly face +To Ashie palenesse and unpleasing lookes, +That his fair countenance still retaineth grace +Of perfect beauty in the very grave. +The world would say such beauty should not dye; +Yet like a theefe thou didst it cruelly. +Ah, had thy eyes, deepe-sunke into thy head, +Beene able to perceive his vertuous minde, +Where vertue sat inthroned in a chaire, +With awfull grace and pleasing maiestie, +Thou wouldest not then have let _Pertillo_ die, +Nor like a theefe have slaine him cruellie. +Inevitable fates, could you devise, +No means to bring me to this pilgrimage, +Full of great woes and sad calamities, +But that the father should be principall, +To plot the present downfall of the sonne? +Come then kind death and give me leave to die, +Since thou hast slaine _Pertillo_ cruellie. + +_Du_. Forbeare, _Allenso_; hearken to my doome, +Which doth concerne thy fathers apprehension. +First we enjoyne thee, upon paine of death, +To give no succour to thy wicked sire, +But let him perrish in his damned sinne, +And pay the price of such a treacherie. +See that with speede the monster be attach'd, +And bring him safe to suffer punishment. +Prevent it not, nor seeke not to delude +The Officers to whom this charge is given; +For if thou doe, as sure as God doth live, +Thy selfe shall satisfie the lawes contempt. +Therefore forward about this punishment. + + [_Exeunt omnes: manet Allenso_. + +_Al_. Thankes, gratious God, that thou hast left the meanes +To end my soule from this perplexitie. +Not succour him on paine of present death! +That is no paine; death is a welcome guest +To those whose hearts are overwhelm'd with griefe. +My woes are done, I having leave to die +And after death live ever joyfullie. [_Exit_. + + _Enter Murther and Covetousnesse_. + +_Mur_. Now, _Avarice_, I have well satisfied +My hungrie thoughtes with blood and crueltie; +Now all my melanchollie discontent +Is shaken off, and I am throughlie pleas'd, +With what thy pollicie hath brought to passe. +Yet am I not so throughlie satisfied +Untill I bring the purple actors forth. +And cause them quaffe a bowle of bitternesse, +That father sonne, and sister brother may +Bring to their deathes with most assur'd decay. + +_Ava_. That wilbe done without all question, +For thou hast slaine _Allenso_ with the boy, +And _Rachell_ doth not wish to overlive +The sad remembrance of her brothers sinne. +Leave faithfull love to teach them how to dye, +That they may share their kinsfolkes miserie. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + + +[ACT THE FOURTH.] + +[SCENE I.] + + + _Enter Merrie and Rachell uncovering the head and legges_. + +_Mer_. I have bestow'd a watrie funerall +On the halfe bodie of my butchered friend. +The head and legges Ile leave in some darke place; +I care not if they finde them yea or no. + +_Ra_. Where do you meane to leave the head and legs? + +_Mer_. In some darke place nere to _Bainardes Castle_.[31] + +_Ra_. But doe it closelie that you be not seene; +For all this while you are without suspect. + +_Mer_. Take you no thought, Ile have a care of that; +Onelie take heede you have a speciall care +To make no shew of any discontent +Nor use too many words to any one. + [_Puts on his Cloake; taketh up the bag_. +I will returne when I have left my loade. +Be merrie, _Rachell_; halfe the feare is past. [_Exit_. + +_Ra_. But I shall never thinke my selfe secure. +This deede would trouble any quiet soule, +To thinke thereof, much more to see it done; +Such cruell deedes can never long be hid, +Although we practice nere so cunningly. +Let others open what I doe conceale; +Lo he is my brother, I will cover it, +And rather dye than have it spoken rife,-- +Lo where she goes, betrai'd her brothers life. + + [_Exit_. + + + +[SCENE II.] + + + _Enter Williams and Cowley_. + +_Co_. Why, how now, _Harry_, what should be the cause, +That you are growne so discontent of late? +Your sighes do shew some inward heavinesse; +Your heavy lookes, your eyes brimfull of teares, +Beares testimonie of some secret griefe. +Reveale it, _Harry_; I will be thy friend, +And helpe thee to my poore habillity. + +_Wil_. If I am heavie, if I often sigh, +And if my eyes beare recordes of my woe, +Condemne me not, for I have mightie cause, +More then I will impart to any one. + +_Co_. Do you misdoubt me, that you dare not tell +That woe to me that moves your discontent? + +_Wil_. Good Maister _Cowley_, you were ever kinde, +But pardon me; I will not utter it +To any one, for I have past my worde; +And therefore urge me not to tell my griefe. + +_Cow_. But those that smother griefe too secretly, +May wast themselves in silent anguishment, +And bring their bodies to so low an ebb, +That all the world can never make it flowe, +Unto the happy hight of former health. +Then be not [so] iniurious to thy selfe, +To wast thy strength in lamentation, +But tell thy case; wele seeke some remedie. + +_Wil_. My cause of griefe is now remedilesse, +And all the world can never lessen it; +Then since no meanes can make my sorrowes lesse, +Suffer me waile a woe which wants redresse. + +_Cow_. Yet let me beare a part in thy lamentes, +I love thee not so ill but I will mone +Thy heavie haps; thou shalt not sigh alone. + +_Wil_. Nay, if you are so curious to intrude +Your selfe to sorrow, where you have no share, +I will frequent some unfrequented place +Where none shall here nor see my lamentations. [_Exit_. + +_Cow_. And I will follow wheresoever thou goe; +I will be a partner of thy helplesse woe. + + [_Exit_. + + + +[SCENE III.] + + + _Enter two Watermen_. + +1. _Will_, ist not time we should go to our boates, +And give attendance for this _Bartlemew_ tide? +Folkes will be stirring early in the morning. + +2. By my troth I am indifferent whether I go or no. If a fare come, +why so; if not, why so; if I have not their money, they shall have +none of my labour. + +1. But we that live by our labours, must give attendance. +But where lyes thy Boate? + +2. At _Baynards Castle_ staires. + +1. So do's mine, then lets go together. + +2. Come, I am indifferent, I care not so much for going; but if I go +with you, why so; if not, why so. [_He falls over the bag_. +Sblood, what rascall hath laide this in my way! + +1. A[32] was not very indifferent that did so, but you are so +permentorie, to say, why so, and why so, that every one is glad to do +you iniurie. But lets see: what is it? + + [_Taking the Sack by the end, one of the legs and head drops out_. + +Good Lord deliver us! a mans legges, and a head with manie wounds! + +2. Whats that so much? I am indifferent, yet for mine owne part, +I understand the miserie of it; if you doe, why so, if not, why so. + +1. By my troth I understand no other mistery but this: +It is a strange and very rufull sight. +But, prethee, what doost thou conceit of it? + +2. In troth I am indifferent, for if I tell you, why so, if not why so. + +1. If thou tell me, Ile thanke thee; therefore I prethee tell me. + +2. I tell you I am indifferent; but to be plaine with you, I am greeved +to stumble at the hangmans budget. + +1. At the hangmans budget? why, this is a sack. + +2. And to speake indifferently, it is the hangman's Budget; and because +he thought too much of his labour to set this head upon the bridge, and +the legs upon the gates, he flings them into the streete for men to +stumble at, but If I get him in my boate, Ile so belabour him in a +stretcher, that he had better be stretcht in one of his owne halfepeny +halters. If this be a good conceit, why so; if not, why so. + +1. Thou art deceiv'd, this head hath many wounds, +And hoase and shoes remaining on the legs. +_Bull_ always strips all quartered traitors quite. + +2. I am indifferent whether you beleeve me or no; these were not worth +taking of, and therefore he left them on. If this be likely why so; +if not, why so. + +1. Nay, then I see you growe from worse to worse. +I heard last night, that one neere _Lambert Hill_ +Was missing, and his boy was murthered. +It may be this is a part of that same man; +What ere it be, ile beare it to that place. + +2. Masse I am indifferent; ile go along with you, if it be so, why so; +if not why so. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +[SCENE IV.] + + + _Enter three neighbors knocking at Loneys doore: Loney comes_. + +1. Hoe, Maister Loney! here you any newes +What is become of your Tennant _Beech_? + +_Lon_. No truely, sir, not any newes at all. + +2. What, hath the boy recovered any speach, +To give us light of these suggestions +That do arise upon this accident? + +_Lon_. There is no hope he should recover speech; +The wives do say he's ready now to leave +This greevous world, full-fraught with treacherie. + +3. Methinkes if _Beech_ himselfe be innocent, +That then the murtherer should not dwell farre off; +The hammer that is sticking in his head, +Was borrowed of a Cutler dwelling by, +But he remembers not who borrowed it: +He is committed that did owe[33] the hammer, +But yet he standes uppon his innocence; +And _Beeches_ absence causeth great suspition. + +_Lo_. If _Beech_ be faulty, as I do not thinke, +I never was so much deceiv'd before. +Oh had you knowne his conversation, +You would not have him in suspition. + +3. Divels seeme Saints, and in these[34] hatefull times, +Deceite can beare apparraunt signes of trueth, +And vice beare shew of vertues excellence. + + _Enter the two Watermen_. + +1. Pray is this Maister _Beeches_ house? + +_Lo_. My friend this same was maister _Beeches_ shop: +We cannot tell whether he live or no. + +1. Know you his head and if I shew it you? +Or can you tell me what hose or shooes he ware, +At that same time when he forsooke the shoppe? + +3. What, have you head, and hose, and shooes to show, +And want the body that should use the same? + +1. Behold this head, these legges, these hose and shooes, +And see if they were _Beeches_, yea or no. + +_Lo_. They are the same; alas, what is become, +Of the remainder of this wretched man! + +1 _Wat_. Nay that I know not; onelie these we found, +As we were comming up a narrow lane, +Neere _Baynardes Castle_, where we two did dwell; +And heering that a man was missing hence, +We thought it good to bring these to this place, + +3. Thankes, my good friendes; ther's some thing for your paines. + +2 _Wat_. We are indifferent, whether you give us anything or nothing; +and if you had not, why so; but since you have, why so. + +1 _Wat_. Leave your repining: Sir, we thanke you hartely. + +3. Farewell good fellowes.--Neighbour, now be bold: [_Exeunt Watermen_. +They dwell not farre that did this bloodie deed, +As God no doubt will at the last reveale, +Though they conceale it nere so cunninglie. +All houses, gutters, sincks and crevices +Have carefully been sought for, for the blood; +Yet theres no instaunce found in any place. + + _Enter a Porter and a Gentleman_. + +But who is that that brings a heavy loade, +Behinde him on a painefull porters backe? + +_Gen_. Praie, Gentlemen, which call you _Beeches_ shoppe? + +2 _Neig_. This is the place; what wold you with the man? + +_Gen_. Nothing with him; I heare the man is dead, +And if he be not, I have lost my paines. + +_Lo_. Hees dead indeede, but yet we cannot finde +What is become of halfe his hopelesse bodie. +His head and legges are found, but for the rest, +No man can tell what is become of it. + +_Gen_. Then I doe thinke I can resolve your doubt +And bring you certain tydings of the rest, +And if you know his doublet and his shirt. +As for the bodie it is so abus'd +That no man can take notice whoes it was. +Set downe this burden of anothers shame. +What, do you know the doublet and the shirt? + + [_Ex. Porter_. + +_Lo_. This is the doublet, these the seuered limmes, +Which late were ioyned to that mangled trunke: +Lay them together, see if they can make +Among them all a sound and solid man. + +3 _neigh_. They all agree, but yet they cannot make +That sound and whole which a remorsles hand +Hath severed with a knife of crueltie. +But say, good sir, where did you finde this out? + +_Gent_. Walking betime by _Paris Garden_ ditch, +Having my Water Spaniell by my side, +When we approach'd unto that haplesse place +Where this same trunke lay drowned in a ditch, +My Spaniell gan to sent, to bark, to plunge +Into the water, and came foorth againe, +And fawnd one me, as if a man should say, +Helpe out a man that heere lyes murthered. +At first I tooke delight to see the dog, +Thinking in vaine some game did there lye hid +Amongst the Nettles growing neere the banke; +But when no game, nor anything appear'd, +That might produce the Spaniell to this sport, +I gan to rate and beate the harmlesse Cur, +Thinking to make him leave to follow me; +But words, nor blowes, could moove the dog away, +But still he plung'd, he div'd, he barkt, he ran +Still to my side, as if it were for helpe. +I seeing this, did make the ditch be dragd, +Where then was found this body as you see, +With great amazement to the lookers on. + +3. Beholde the mightie miracles of God, +That sencelesse things should propagate their sinne +That are more bestiall farre then beastlinesse +Of any creature most insensible! + +2. _Neigh_. Cease we to wonder at Gods wondrous works, +And let us labour for to bring to light +Those masked fiends that thus dishonor him. +This sack is new, and, loe! beholde his marke +Remaines upon it, which did sell the bag. +Amongst the Salters we shall finde it out +When, and to whom, this bloody bag was sold. + +3. Tis very likely, let no paines be spar'd, +To bring it out, if it be possible; +Twere pitty such a murther should remaine +Unpunished mongst Turkes and Infidels. + +1. _neigh_. Sirs, I do know the man that solde this bag, +And if you please, Ile fetch him presently? + +_Gent_. With all our hearts. How say you gentlemen? +Perchance the murther thus may come to light. + +3. I pray you do it, we will tarry heere: [_Exit 1. neigh_. +And let the eyes of every passenger +Be satisfied, which may example be +How they commit such dreadfull wickednesse. + +_Ent. wom_. And please your maisterships, the boy is dead. + +3. _neigh_. Tis very strange that having many wounds +So terrible, so ghastlie; which is more, +Having the hammer sticking in his head; +That he should live and stirre from _Friday_ night, +To _Sunday_ morning, and even then depart, +When that his Maisters mangled course were found. +Bring him foorth too; perchance the murtherers +May have their hearts touched with due remorse, +Viewing their deeds of damned wickednesse. + [_Bring forth the boye and laye him by Beech_. + +1 _neigh_. Here is the Salters man that solde the bag. + +_Gent_. My friend, how long since did you sell that bag? +And unto whom, if you remember it? + +_Sal_. I sould the bag, good sir, but yesterday, +Unto a maide; I do not know her name. + +3 _neigh_. Nor where she dwels. + +_Sal_. No certeinly. + +2 _neigh_. But what apparell had she on her back? + +_Sal_. I do not well remember what she wore, +But if I saw her I should know her sure. + +3 _neigh_. Go round about to every neighbours house, +And will them shew their maides immediately: +God grant we may finde out the murtherers. + [_Go to one house, and knock at doore, asking_. +Bring forth such maides as are within your house! + +1 _housekeeper_. I have but one, ile send her down to you. + +3 _neigh_. Is this the maide? [_Come out maide_. + +_Salt_. No, sir, this is not she. [_Go to another, &c_. +How many maides do dwell within this house? + +2 _house_. Her's nere a woman here, except my wife. [_Go to Merryes_. + +3 _neigh_. Whose house is this? + +_Lo_. An honest civill mans, cald Maister _Merry_, +Who I dare be sworne, would never do so great a murther; +But you may aske heere to for fashion sake. + + [_Rachell sits in the shop_. + +3. How now, faire maide, dwels any here but you? +Thou hast too true a face for such a deed. + +_Rach_. No, gentle sir; my brother keepes no more. + +3 _neigh_. This is not she? + +_Salt_. No truly, gentleman. + + [_Ex. R_. + +3. This will not serve; we cannot finde her out. +Bring in those bodyes, it growes towards night; +God bring these damn'd murtherers at length to light! + + [_Exeunt omnes_. + + + +[SCENE V.] + + + _Enter Merry and Rachell_. + +_Mer_. Why go the neighbours round about the streete +To every house? what hast thou heard the cause? + +_Rach_. They go about with that same Salters man, +Of whom I bought the bag but yesterday, +To see if he can know the maide againe +Which bought it: this I think the very cause. + +_Mer_. How were my senses overcome with feare, +That I could not foresee this jeopardy! +For had I brought the bag away with me, +They had not had this meanes to finde it out. +Hide thee above least that the Salters man +Take notice of thee that thou art the maide, +And by that knowledge we be all undone. + +_Rach_. That feare is past, I sawe, I spake with him, +Yet he denies that I did buy the bag; +Besides the neighbours have no doubt of you, +Saying you are an honest harmelesse man, +And made enquirie heere for fashion sake. + +_Mer_. My former life deserves their good conceits, +Which is not blemisht with this treacherie. +My heart is merier then it was before, +For now I hope the greatest feare is past. +The hammer is denyed, the bag unknowne; +Now there is left no meanes to bring it out, +Unless our selves proove Traitors to our selves. + +_Rach_. When saw you _Hary Williams_? + +_Me_. Why, to day; +I met him comming home from _Powles Crosse_, +Where he had beene to heare a Sermon. + +_Rach_. Why brought you not the man along with you +To come to dinner, that we might perswade +Him to continue in his secrecie? + +_Mer_. I did intreate him, but he would not come, +But vow'd to be as secret as my selfe. + +_Rach_. What, did he sweare? + +_Mer_. What neede you aske me that? +You know we never heard him sweare an othe. +But since he hath conceal'd the thing thus long, +I hope in God he will conceale it still. + +_Rach_. Pray God he do, and then I have no doubt +But God will overpasse this greevous sinne, +If you lament with true unfained teares +And seeke to live the remnant of your yeares +In Gods true feare with upright conscience. + +_Mer_. If it would please him pardon this amisse +And rid my body from the open shame +That doth attend this deed, being brought to light, +I would endevour all my comming dayes +To please my maker and exalt his praise. +But it growes late, come bring me to my bed, +That I may rest my sorrow-charged head. + +_Rach_. Rest still in calme secure tranquillitie, +And over-blowe this storme of mightie feare +With pleasant gales of hoped quietnesse. +Go when you will; I will attend, and pray +To send this wofull night a cheerfull day. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +[SCENE VI.] + + + _Enter Falleria and Sostrata weeping_. + +_Fall_. Passe ore these rugged furrowes of laments +And come to plainer pathes of cheerefulnesse; +Cease thy continuall showers of thy woe. +And let my pleasing wordes of comfort chase +These[35] duskie cloudes of thy uniust dispaire +Farre from thy hart, and let a pleasing hope +Of young _Pertillos_ happy safe returne +Establish all your ill-devining thoughts; +So shall you make me cheerfull that am sad,-- +And feede your hopes with fond illusions. + +_Sos_. I could be so; but my divided soule, +Twixt feare and hope of young _Pertillos_ life, +Cannot arrive at the desired port +Of firme beleefe, until mine eyes do see +Him that I sent to know the certainetie. + +_Fal_. To know the certaintie! of whom, of what? +Whome, whether, when, or whereabout, I praie, +Have you dispatcht a frustrate messenger?-- +By heaven, and earth, my heart misgiveth[36] me, +They will prevent my cunning pollicie. [_To the people_. +Why speake you not? what winged Pegasus +Is posted for your satisfaction? + +_Sos_. Me thinkes my speach reveales a hidden feare, +And that feare telles me that the childe is dead. + +_Fall_. By sweete _S. Andrew_ and my fathers soule, +I thinke the peevish boy be too too well +But speake, who was your passions harbinger? + +_Sos_. One that did kindle my misdoubting thoughts, +With the large flame of his timiddity. + +_Fall_. Oh then I know the tinder of your feare. +Was young _Allenso_ your white[37] honnie sonne. +Confusion light upon his timerous head, +For broching this large streame of fearefulnesse! +And all the plagues that damned furies feele +For their forepassed bold iniquities, +Afflict you both for thus preventing me! + +_Sos_. Preventing you! of what? _Fallerio_, speake, +For if you doe not my poore hart will breake. + +_Fall_. Why of the good that I had purposed, +To young _Pertillo_, which I would conceale +From you and him until the deed were done. + +_Sost_. If it were good, then we affect him deare, +And would add furtherance to your enterprise. + +_Fall_. I say your close eaves-dropping[38] pollicies +Have hindred him of greater benefits +Then I can ever do him after this.-- +If he live long, and growe to riper sinne, [_To the people_. +Heele cursse you both, that thus have hindered +His freedom from this goale of sinfull flesh.-- +But let that passe, when went your harebrainde sonne, +That Cuckow, vertue-singing, hatefull byrde, +To guarde the safetie of his better part, +Which he hath pend within the childish coope +Of young _Pertillos_ sweete securitie? + +_Sost_. That lovely sonne, that comfort of my life, +The root of vertuous magnamitie, +That doth affect with an unfained love, +That tender boy, which under heavens bright eye, +Deserveth most to be affected deare, +Went some two houres after the little boy +Was sent away to keepe[39] at _Padua_. + +_Fall_. What, is a lovelie? he's a loathsome toade, +A one eyde _Cyclops_, a stigmaticke[40] brat, +That durst attempt to contradict my will, +And prie into my close intendements. + + _Enter Alenso sad_. + +Mas, here a comes: his downcast sullen looke, +Is over-waigh'd with mightie discontent.-- +I hope the brat is posted to his sire, +That he is growne so lazie of his pace; +Forgetfull of his dutie, and his tongue +Is even fast tyde with strings of heavinesse.-- +Come hether, boye! sawst thou my obstacle, +That little _Dromus_ that crept into my sonne, +With friendly hand remoov'd and thrust away? +Say, I, and please me with the sweetest note +That ever relisht in a mortals mouth. + +_Allen_. I am a Swan that singe, before I dye, +Your note of shame and comming miserie. + +_Fall_. Speake softly, sonne, let not thy mother heare; +She was almost dead before for very feare. + +_Allen_. Would I could roare as instruments of warre, +Wall-battring Cannons, when the Gun powder +Is toucht with part of _Etnas_ Element! +Would I could bellow like enraged Buls, +Whose harts are full of indignation, +To be captiv'd by humaine pollicie! +Would I could thunder like Almightie _Ioue_, +That sends his farre-heard voice to terrifie +The wicked hearts of earthly citizens! +Then roaring, bellowing, thundring, I would say, +Mother, lament, _Pertillos_ made away! + +_Sost_. What, is he dead? God give me leave to die, +And him repentance for his treacherie! + [_Falleth down and dyeth_. + +_Fall_. Never the like impietie was done: +A mother slaine, with terror of the sonne! +Helpe to repaire the damadge thou hast made, +And seeke to call back life with dilligence. + +_Allen_. Call back a happy creature to more woe! +That were a sinne: good Father, let her go. +0 happy I, if my tormenting smart, +Could rend like her's, my griefe-afflicted heart! +Would your hard hart extend unto your wife, +To make her live an everdying life? +What, is she dead? oh, then thrice happy she, +Whose eyes are bard from our callamitie! + +_Fall_. I, all too soone, thou viper, paracide! +But for thy tongue thy mother had not dyde: +That belching voice, that harsh night-raven sound, +Untimely sent thy mother to the ground: +Upbraid my fault, I did deceive my brother; +Cut out thy tongue, that slue thy carefull mother. + +_Allen_. God love my soule, as I in heart rejoyce +To have such power in my death-bringing voice, +See how in steade of teares and hartie sighes; +Of foulded armes and sorrow-speaking lookes, +I doe behold with cheerefull countenance +The livelesse roote of my nativitie, +And thanke her hasty soule that thence did goe +To keep her from her sonne and husbandes woe.-- +Now, father, give attention to my tale; +I will not dip my griefe-deciphering tongue +In bitter wordes of reprehension. +Your deeds have throwne more mischiefes on your head +Then wit or reason can remove againe; +For to be briefe, _Pertillo_, (oh that name +Cannot be nam'de without a hearty sigh!) +Is murthered, and-- + +_Fal_. What and? this newes is good. + +_Allen_. The men which you suborn'd to murther him-- + +_Fal_. Better and better, then it cannot out, +Unlesse your love will be so scripulous [_sic_] +That it will overthrowe your selfe and me. + +_Allen_. The best is last, and yet you hinder me. +The Duke of _Padua_ hunting in the wood, +Accompanied with Lordes and Gentlemen-- + +_Fal_. Swones what of that? what good can come of that? + +_Allen_. Was made acquainted by the one of them, +(That had some little remnant of his life) +With all your practice and conspiracie. + +_Fall_. I would that remnant had fled quicke to hell, +To fetch fierce fi[e]ndes to rend their carcases, +Rather then bring my life in ieopardie! +Is this the best? swones, doe you mocke me, sonne, +And make a iest at my calamitie? + +_Allen_. Not I, good father; I will ease your woe, +If you but yeeld unto my pollicie. + +_Fal_. Declare it then, my wits are now to seeke; +That peece of life hath so confounded mee +That I am wholly overcome with feare. + +_Allen_. The Duke hath vow'd to prosecute your life, +With all the strict severitie he can; +But I will crosse his resolution +And keepe you from his furie well enough. +Ile weare your habit, I will seeme the man +That did suborne the bloodie murtherers; +I will not stir from out this house of woe, +But waight the comming of the officers, +And answere for you fore the angrie Duke, +And, if neede be, suffer your punishment. + +_Fall_. Ile none of that; I do not like the last; +I love thee dearer then I doe my life, +And all I did, was to advance thy state +To sunne-bright beames of shining happinesse. + +_Allen_. Doubte not my life, for when I doe appeare +Before the Duke, I being not the man, +He can inflict no punishment on mee. + +_Fall_. Mas, thou saiest true, a cannot punish thee; +Thou wert no actor of their Tragaedie. +But for my beard thou canst not counterfet +And bring gray haires uppon thy downy chinne; +White frostes are never seene in summers spring. + +_Allen_. I bought a beard this day at _Padua_, +Such as our common actors use to weare +When youth would put on ages countenance; +So like in shape, in colour, and in all, +To that which growes upon your aged face, +That were I dressed in your abilimentes, +Your selfe would scarcely know me from your selfe. + +_Fall_. That's excellent. What shape hast thou devis'd, +To be my vizard to delude the worlde? + +_Allen_. Why thus: ile presentlie shave off your haire, +And dresse you in a lowlie shepheardes weede; +Then you will seeme to have the carefull charge +Of some wealth-bringing, rich, and fleecy flocke, +And so passe currant from suspition. + +_Fall_. This care of thine, my sonne, doth testifie, +Nature in thee hath firme predominance, +That neither losse of friend, nor vile reproch, +Can shake thee with their strongest violence: +In this disguise, ile see the end of thee, +That thou, acquited, then maist succour me. + +_Allen_. I am assur'd to be exempt from woe:-- +This plot will worke my certaine overthrowe. [_(To the) People_. + +_Fall_. I will beare hence thy mother, and my wife, +Untimely murthered with true sorrowes knife. [_Exit_. + +_Allen_. Untimely murthered! happy was that griefe, +Which hath abridg'd whole numbers numberlesse +Of hart-surcharging deplorations. +She shall have due and Christian funerall, +And rest in peace amongst her auncestors. +As for our bodies, they shall be inter'd, +In ravening mawes, of Ravens, Puttockes, Crowes, +Of tatlin[g] Magpies, and deathes harbingers, +That wilbe glutted with winde-shaken limmes +Of blood-delighting hatefull murtherers. +And yet these many winged sepulchers, +Shall turne to earth, so I and father shall, +At last attaine to earth by funerall. +Well I will prosecute my pollicy, +That wished death may end my miseries. + + [_Exit_. + + + +[SCENE VII.] + + + _Enter Cowley and Williams_. + +_Cow_. Still in your dumpes, good _Harry_? yet at last, +Utter your motive of this heavinesse. +Why go you not unto your maisters house? +What, are you parted? if that be the cause, +I will provide you of a better place. + +_Wil_. Who roves all day, at length may hit the marke; +That is the cause,--because I cannot stay +With him whose love is dearer then my life. + +_Cow_. Why fell you out? why did you part so soone? + +_Wil_. We fell not out, but feare hath parted us. + +_Cow_. What, did he feare your truth or honest life? + +_Wil_. No, no, your understanding is but dimme, +That farre-remooved cannot iudge the feare. +We both were fearefull, and we both did part, +Because indeed we both were timerous. + +_Cow_. What accident begot your mutuall feare? + +_Wil_. That which my hart hath promis'd to conceale. + +_Cow_. Why, now you fall into your auncient vaine. + +_Wil_. Tis vaine to urge me from this silent vaine; +I will conceale it, though it breed my paine. + +_Cow_. It seemes to be a thing of consequence, +And therefore prithie, _Harry_, for my love, +Open this close fast-clasped mysterie. + +_Wil_. Were I assur'd my hart should have release +Of secret torment and distemperature, +I would reveale it to you specially +Whom I have found my faithfull favorite. + +_Cow_. Good _Harrie Williams_, make no doubt of that; +Besides your griefe reveald may have reliefe, +Beyond your present expectation. +Then tell it, _Harry_, what soere it be, +And ease your hart of horror, me of doubt. + +_Wil_. Then have you heard of _Beech_ of _Lambert Hill_, +And of his boy which late were murthered? + +_Cow_. I heard, and sawe their mangled carcases. + +_Will_. But have you heard of them that murthered them? + +_Cow_. No, would I had, for then Ide blaze their shame, +And make them pay due penance for their sinne. + +_Wil_. This I misdoubted, therefore will forbeare +To utter what I thought to have reveald. + +_Cow_. Knowst thou the actors of this murthrous deed, +And wilt conceale it now the deed is done? +Alas, poore man, thou knowest not what thou doost! +Thou hast incur'd the danger of the lawe +And thou mongst them must suffer punishment, +Unlesse thou do confesse it presentlie. + +_Wil_. What? shall I then betray my maisters life? + +_Cow_. Better then hazard both thy life and soule +To boulster out such barbarous villanie. +Why, then belike your maister did the deed? + +_Wil_. My maister unawares escapt my mouth; +But what the Lord doth please shall come to light, +Cannot be hid by humaine pollicie: +His haplesse hand hath wrought the fatall end +Of _Robert Beech_ and _Thomas Winchester_. + +_Cow_. Could he alone do both those men to death? +Hadst thou no share in execution? + +_Wil_. Nor knew not of it, till the deed was done. + +_Cow_. If this be true, thou maist escape with life: +Confesse the truth unto the officers, +And thou shalt finde the favour of the lawe. + +_Wil_. If I offended, 'twas my Maister's love +That made me hide his great transgressions: +But I will be directed as you please. +So save me God, as I am innocent! + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +[SCENE VIII.] + + + _Enter Alenso in Falleriaes apparell and berd; + Falleria shaven in shepheards habilliments_. + +_Fal_. Part of my selfe, now seemst thou wholy me, +And I seeme neither like my selfe nor thee, +Thankes to thy care and this unknown disguise. +I like a shepheard now must learn to know, +When to lead foorth my little bleating flock, +To pleasing pastures, and well-fatting walkes; +In stormie time to drive them to the lee; +To cheere the pretie Lambes, whose bleating voice +Doth crave the wished comfort of their dams; +To sound my merry Bag-pipe on the downes, +In shearing times, poore Shepheards festivals; +And lastlie, how to drive the Wolfe away, +That seeke to make the little Lambes their pray. + +_Allen_. Ah, have you care to drive the Wolfe away +From sillie creatures wanting intellecte, +And yet would suffer your devouring thoughts, +To suck the blood of your dead brothers sonne! +As pure and innocent as any Lambe +_Pertillo_ was, which you have fed upon. +But things past helpe may better be bewaild +With carefull teares, then finde a remedie; +Therefore, for feare our practise be espide, +Let us to question of our husbandrie. +How many Lambes fell from the middle flock, +Since I myselfe did take the latter view? + + _Enter Vesuvio, Turqual, Alberto_. + +_Fall_. Some vive and twenty, whereof two are dead. +But three and twenty scud about the fields, +That glads my hart to ze their iollitie. + +_Vesu_. This is the man, conferring of his Lambes, +That slew a Lambe worth all his flock besides. + +_Allen_. What is the time to let the Weathers blood? +The forward spring, that hath such store of grasse, +Hath fild them full of ranke unwholsome blood, +Which must be purg'd; else, when the winter comes, +The rot will leave me nothing but their skinnes. + +_Fall_. Chil let om blood, but yet it is no time, +Untill the zygne be gone below the hart.[41] + +_Vesu_. Forbeare a while this idle businesse, +And talke of matters of more consequence. + +_Fall_. Che tell you plaine, you are no honest man, +To call a shepheards care an idle toye. +What though we have a little merry sport +With flowrie gyrlonds, and an Oaten pipe, +And jolly friskins on a holly-day, +Yet is a shepheards cure a greater carke +Then sweating Plough-men with their busie warke. + +_Vesu_. Hence! leave your sheepish ceremoniall!-- +And now, _Fallerio_, in the Princes name, +I do arrest you, for the cruell murther +Of young _Pertillo_, left unto your charge, +Which you discharged with a bloody writ, +Sign'd by the hands of those you did suborne. +Nay, looke not strange, we have such evidence, +To ratifie your _Stigian_ cruelty, +That cannot be deluded any way. + +_Allen_. Alas, my Lords, I know not what you say! +As for my Nephew, he, I hope, is well: +I sent him yesterday to _Padua_. + +_Alber_. I, he is well, in such a vengers handes, +As will not winck at your iniquitie. + +_Allen_. By heaven and earth my soule is innocent! +Say what you will, I know my conscience. + +_Fal_.--To be afflicted with a scourge of care, +Which my oreweaning rashnesse did infflict. + +_Turq_. Come, beare him hence! expostulate no more; +That heart that could invent such treachery, +Can teach his face to brave it cunninglie. + +_Alen_. I do defie your accusations; +Let me have justice, I will answere it. + +_Vesuv_. So, beare him hence! I meane to stay behinde, +To take possession of his goods and landes +For the Dukes use: it is too manifest. + +_Allen_. I hope youle answere anything you doe. +My Lord _Vesuvio_, you shall answere it, +And all the rest that use extremities. + +_Alber_. I, to the Dukes Exchecker, not to you. + + [_Exeunt omnes; manet Falleria_. + +_Fal_. Thus shades are caught when substances are fled. +Indeede they have my garments, but my selfe +Am close enough from their discoverie; +But not so close but that my verie soule, +Is ract with tormentes for _Pertillos_ death. +I am _Acteon_; I doe beare about, +My hornes of shame and inhumanitie. +My thoughts, like hounds which late did flatter me +With hope of great succeeding benefits, +Now gin to teare my care-tormented heart +With feare of death and tortring punishment. +These are the stings whenas our consciences +Are stuf'd and clogd with close-concealed crimes. +Well, I must smoather all these discontentes, +And strive to beare a smoother countenaunce +Then rugged care would willingly permit. +Ile to the Court to see _Allenso_ free, +That he may then relieve my povertie. + + [_Exit_. + + + +[SCENE IX.] + + + _Enter Constable, three watchmen with halberdes_. + +_Con_. Who would have thought of all the men alive +That _Thomas Merry_ would have done this deede +So full of ruth and monstrous wickednesse! + +1 _wat_. Of all the men that live in _London_ walles, +I would have thought that _Merry_ had bin free. + +2 _wat_. Is this the fruites of Saint-like Puritans? +I never like such damn'd hipocrisie. + +3 _wat_. He would not loase a sermon for a pound, +An oath he thought would rend his iawes in twaine, +An idle word did whet Gods vengeance on; +And yet two murthers were not scripulous. +Such close illusions God will bring to light, +And overthrowe the workers with his might. + +_Con_. This is the house; come let us knocke at dore; +I see a light, they are not all in bed: + [_Knockes; Rachell comes downe_. +How now, faire maide? is your brother up? + +_Rach_. He's not within, sir; would you speake with him? + +_Con_. You doe but iest; I know he is within, +And I must needes go uppe and speake with him. + +_Rach_. In deede, good sir, he is in bed a sleepe, +And I was loath to trouble him to-night. + +_Con_. Well, sister, I am sorry for your sake; +But for your brother, he is knowne to be +A damned villaine and an hipocrite. +_Rachell_, I charge thee in her highnesse name, +To go with us to prison presently. + +_Rach_. To prison, sir? alas, what have I done? + +_Con_. You know that best, but every one doe know +You and your brother murthered Maister _Beech_, +And his poore boy that dwelt at _Lambert hill_. + +_Rach_. I murthered? my brother knowes that I, +Did not consent to either of their deathes. + +_Con_. That must be tride; where doth your brother lye? + +_Rach_. Here in his bed; me thinks he's not a sleepe. + +_Con_. Now, Maister _Merry_, are you in a sweate? + [_Throwes his night cap away_. + +_Merry sigh_. No verily, I am not in a sweate. + +_Con_. Some sodaine feare affrights you; whats the cause? + +_Mer_. Nothing but that you wak'd me unawares. + +_Con_. In the Queenes name I doe commaund you rise, +And presently to goe along with us. + [_Riseth up_. + +_Mer_. With all my hart; what, doe you know the cause? + +_Con_. We partly doe; when saw you maister _Beech_? + +_Mer_. I doe not well remember who you meane. + +_Con_. Not _Beech_, the Chaundler upon _Lambert hill_? + +_Mer_. I know the man, but saw him not this fortnight. + +_Con_. I would you had not, for your sisters sake, +For yours, for his, and for his harmlesse boy. +Be not obdurate in your wickednesse; +Confession drawes repentance after it. + +_Mer_. Well, maister Constable, I doe confesse, +I was the man that did them both to death: +As for my sister and my harmlesse man, +I doe protest they both are innocent. + +_Con_. Your man is fast in hold, and hath confest +The manner how, and where, the deede was done; +Therefore twere vaine to colour anything. +Bring them away. + +_Rach_. Ah brother, woe is me! + +_Mer_. I comfortlesse will helpe to comfort thee. + + [_Exeunt_. + + _Enter Trueth_. + +Weepe, weepe poor soules, & enterchange your woes; +Now, _Merry_, change thy name and countenance; +Smile not, thou wretched creature, least in scorne +Thou smile to thinke on thy extremities. +Thy woes were countlesse for thy wicked deedes, +Thy sisters death neede not increase the coumpt, +For thou couldst never number them before.-- +Gentles, helpe out with this suppose, I pray, +And thinke it truth, for Truth dooth tell the tale. +_Merry_, by lawe convict as principall, +Receives his doome, to hang till he be dead, +And afterwards for to be hangd in chaines. +_Williams_ and _Rachell_ likewise are convict +For their concealment; _Williams_ craves his booke[42] +And so receaves a brond[43] of infamie; +But wretched _Rachels_ sexe denies that grace, +And therefore dooth receive a doome of death +To dye with him whose sinnes she did conceale. +Your eyes shall witnesse of their shaded tipes, +Which many heere did see perform'd indeed. +As for _Fallerio_, not his homelie weedes, +His beardlesse face, nor counterfetted speech, +Can shield him from deserved punishment; +But what he thinkes shall rid him from suspect, +Shall drench him in more waves of wretchednesse, +Pulling his sonne into relentlesse iawes, +Of hungrie death, on tree of infamie. +Heere comes the Duke that doomes them both to die; +Next _Merries_ death shall end this Tragedie. + + [_Exit_. + + + + +[ACT THE FIFTH.] + +[SCENE I.] + + + _Enter Duke, Vesuvio, Turq., Alberto: and Fallerio disguised_. + +_Duke_. Where is that _Syren_, that incarnate fiend, +Monster of Nature, spectacle of shame, +Blot and confusion of his familie, +False-seeming semblance of true-dealing trust, +I meane _Fallerio_, bloody murtherer: +Hath he confest his cursed treacherie, +Or will he stand to proove his innocence? + +_Vesu_. We have attach'de _Fallerio_, gracious lord, +And did accuse him with _Pertillos_ death; +But he remote will not confesse himselfe +Neither the meanes nor author of the same. +His mightie vowes and protestations +Do almost seeme to pleade integritie, +But that we all do know the contrarie. + +_Fall_.--I know your error stricks your knowledge blinde; +His seeming me, doth so delude your minde. [_(To the) People_. + +_Duke_. Then bring him forth, to answer for himselfe, +Since he stands stoutly to denie the deed: + + [_Alberto and other fetch Alenso_. + +His sonne can witnesse that the dying man +Accusde _Fallerio_ for his treacherie.-- +Stand forth thou close disguised hipocrite, +And speake directlie to these articles: +First, didst thou hire two bloodie murtherers +To massacre _Pertillo_ in a wood? + +_Alen_. I never did suborne such murtherers, +But ever lov'd _Pertillo_ as my life. + +_Duke_. Thy sonne can witnesse to the contrarie. + +_Alen_. I have no sonne to testifie so much. + +_Fal_.--No, for his gravitie is counterfeit, +Pluck off his beard, and you will sweare it so. + +_Vesu_. Have you no sonne? doth not _Alenso_ live? + +_Alen_. _Alenso_ lives, but is no sonne of mine. + +_Alber_. Indeed his better part had not his source +From thy corrupted vice-affecting hart, +For vertue is the marke he aimeth at. + +_Duke_. I dare be sworne that _Sostrata_ would blush, +Shouldst thou deny _Alenso_ for thy sonne. + +_Alen_. Nay, did she live, she would not challenge me +To be the father of that haplesse sonne. + +_Turq_. Nay, then anon you will denie your selfe +To be your selfe, unjust _Fallerio_. + +_Alen_. I do confesse my selfe to be my selfe, +But will not answere to _Fallerio_. + +_Duke_. Not to _Fallerio_? this is excellent! +You are the man was cal'd _Fallerio_. + +_Alen_. He never breathed yet that cal'd me so, +Except he were deceiv'd as you are now. + +_Duke_. This impudence shall not excuse your fault; +You are well knowne to be _Fallerio_, +The wicked husband of dead _Sostrata_ +And father to the vertuous _Alenso_; +And even as sure as all these certeinties, +Thou didst contrive thy little Nephewes death. + +_Alen_. True, for I am nor false _Fallerio_, +Husband, nor father, as you do suggest, +And therefore did not hire the murtherers; +Which to be true acknowledge with your eyes. + [_Puls off his disguise_. + +_Duke_. How now, my Lords! this is a myracle, +To shake off thirtie yeares so sodeinlie +And turne from feeble age to flourishing youth! + +_Alb_. But he my Lord that wrought this miracle, +Is not of power to free himselfe from death, +Through the performance of this suddaine change. + +_Duke_. No, were he the chiefest hope of Christendome, +He should not live for this presumption: +Use no excuse, _Alenso_, for thy life; +My doome of death shall be irrevocable. + +_Alen_. Ill fare his soule that would extenuate +The rigor of your life-confounding doome! +I am prepar'd with all my hart to die, +For thats th' end of humaine miserie. + +_Duke_. Then thus: you shall be hang'd immediately, +For your illusion of the Magistrates +With borrowed shapes of false antiquitie. + +_Alen_. Thrice-happy sentence, which I do imbrace +With a more fervent and unfained zeale +Then an ambicious rule-desiring man +Would do a Iem-bedecked Diadem, +Which brings more watchfull cares and discontent +Then pompe or honor can remunerate. +When I am dead, let it be said of me, +_Alenso_ died to set his father free. + +_Fal_. That were a freedome worse than servitude +To cruell Turke or damned Infidell. +Most righteous Judge, I do appeale for Iustice, +Justice on him that hath deserved death, +Not on _Alenso_; he is innocent. + +_Alen_. But I am guiltie of abetting him, +Contrarie to his Maiestie's Edict, +And therefore death is meritorious. + +_Fall_. I am the wretch that did subborne the slaves, +To murther poore _Pertillo_ in the wood. +Spare, spare _Alenso_! he is innocent. + +_Duke_. What strange appeale is this! we know thee not: +None but _Fallerio_ is accusde hereof. + +_Alen_. Then, father, get you hence, depart in time, +Least being knowne you suffer for the crime. + +_Fal_. Depart, and leave thee clad in horrors cloake, +And suffer death for true affection! +Although my soule be guiltie of more sinne, +Then ever sinfull soule were guiltie of, +Yet fiends of hell would never suffer this. +I am thy father, though unworthy so: +Oh, still I see these weeds do feare your eyes. +I am _Fallerio_, make no doubt of me, [_Put off_. +Though thus disguisde, in habite, countenance, +Only to scape the terror of the lawe. + +_Alen_. And I _Alenso_ that did succour him +Gainst your commaundement, mightie Soveraigne. +Ponder your oath, your vowe, as God did live, +I should not live, if I did rescue him. +I did, God lives, and will revenge it home, +If you defer my condigne punishment. + +_Duke_. Assure your selves, you both shall suffer death: +But for _Fallerio_, he shall hang in chaines +After he's dead, for he was principall. + +_Fall_. Unsaverie Woormewood, Hemlock, bitter gall, +Brings no such bad, unrelisht, sower taste, +Unto the tongue as this death-boding voice, +Brings to the eares of poore _Fallerio_, +Not for myselfe but for _Allensoes_ sake, +Whome I have murthered by my trechery. +Ah my dread Lord, if any little sparke +Of melting pittie doth remaine alive, +And not extinguisht by my impious deedes, +Oh kindle it unto a happie flame, +To light _Allenso_ from this miserie +Which through dim death he's like to fall into. + +_Allen_. That were to overthrow my soule and all. +Should you reverse this sentence of my death, +My selfe would play the death-man on my selfe +And overtake your swift and winged soule, +Ere churlish _Caron_ had transported you +Unto the fields of sad _Proserpina_. + +_Duke_. Cease, cease, _Fallerio_, in thy bootlesse prayers. +I am resolv'd, I am inexorable. +_Vesuvio_, see their judgement be performde, +And use _Alenso_ with all clemencie, +Provided that the lawe be satisfied. + + [_Exit Duke and Alberto_. + +_Vesu_. It shall be done with all respectivenesse; +Have you no doubt of that, my gratious Lord. + +_Fall_. Here is a mercie mixt with equitie, +To show him favour but cut off his head. + +_Alen_. My reverend father pacifie yourselfe; +I can, and will, indure the stroake of death, +Were his appearance nere so horrible, +To meete _Pertillo_ in another world. + +_Fal_. Thou shouldst have tarried untill natures course +Had been extinct, that thou oregrowne with age, +Mightst die the death of thy progenitors; +Twas not thy meanes he died so soddenly, +But mine, that causing his, have murthered thee. + +_Alen_. But yet I slew my mother, did I not? + +_Fal_. I, with reporting of my villanie. +The very audit of my wickednesse, +Had force enough to give a sodaine death. +Ah sister, sister, now I call to minde, +Thy dying wordes now prov'd a prophesie, +If you deale ill with this distressed childe, +God will no doubt revenge the innocent. +I have delt ill, and God hath tane revenge. + +_Allen_. Now let us leave remembrance of past deedes, +And thinke on that which more concerneth us. + +_Fal_. With all my hart; thou ever wert the spur +Which prict me on to any godlinesse; +And now thou doest indevor to incite +Me make my parting peace with God and men. +I doe confesse, even from my verie soule, +My hainous sinne and grievous wickednesse +Against my maker manie thousand waies: +_Ab imo cordis_ I repent my selfe +Of all my sinnes against his maiestie; +And, heavenly father, lay not to my charge +The death of poore _Pertillo_ and those men +Which I suborn'd to be his murtherers, +When I appeare before thy heavenlie throne +To have my sentence or of life or death. + +_Vesu_. Amen, amen, and God continue still +These mercie-moving meditations. + +_Allen_. And thou, great God, which art omnipotent, +Powerful! enough for to redeeme our soules +Even from the verie gates of gaping hell, +Forgive our sinnes and wash away our faults +In the sweete river of that precious blood +Which thy deare sonne did shed in _Galgotha_, +For the remission of all contrite soules. + +_Fal_. Forgive thy death, my thrice-beloved sonne. + +_Allen_. I doe, and, father, pardon my misdeedes +Of disobedience and unthankfullnesse. + +_Fal_. Thou never yet wert disobedient, +Unlesse I did commaund unlawfulnesse. +Ungratefulnesse did never trouble thee; +Thou art too bounteous thus to guerdon me. + +_Allen_. Come, let us kisse and thus imbrace in death. +Even when you will, come, bring us to the place, +Where we may consumate our wretchednesse, +And change it for eternall hapinesse. + + [_Exeunt omnes_. + + + +[SCENE II.] + + _Enter Merry and Rachel to execution with Officers + with Halberdes, the Hangman with a lather [sic] &c_. + +_Mer_. Now, sister _Rachell_, is the houre come +Wherein we both must satisfie the law +For _Beeches_ death and harmelesse _Winchester_. +Weepe not sweete sister, for that cannot helpe: +I doe confesse fore all this company +That thou wert never privie to their deathes, +But onelie helpest me, when the deede was done, +To wipe the blood and hide away my sinne; +And since this fault hath brought thee to this shame, +I doe intreate thee on my bended knee +To pardon me for thus offending thee. + +_Rach_. I doe forgive you from my verie soule, +And thinke not that I shed these store of teares, +For that I price my life, or feare to dye, +Though I confesse the manner of my death +Is much more grievous then my death it selfe; +But I lament for that it hath beene said +I was the author of this crueltie +And did produce you to this wicked deede, +Whereof God knowes that I am innocent. + +_Mer_. Indeede thou art; thy conscience is at peace, + [_Goe up the lather_. +And feeles no terror for such wickednesse; +Mine hath beene vexed but is now at rest, +For that I am assur'd my hainous sinne +Shall never rise in judgement gainst my soule, +But that the blood of _Jesus Christ_ hath power +To make my purple sinne as white as Snowe. +One thing, good people, witnesse here with me, +That I doe dye in perfect charitie, +And do forgive, as I would be forgiven +First of my God and then of all the world. +Cease publishing that I have beene a man +Train'd up in murther or in crueltie, +For fore this time, this time is all too soone, +I never slue or did consent to kill; +So helpe me God as this I speake is true! +I could say something of my innocence, +In fornication and adulterie, +But I confesse the iustest man alive, +That beares about the frailtie of a man, +Cannot excuse himselfe from daily sinne +In thought, in word, and deed. Such was my life. +I never hated _Beech_ in all my life, +Onely desire of money which he had, +And the inciting of that foe of man, +That greedie gulfe, that great _Leviathan_, +Did halle [_sic_] me on to these callamities; +For which, even now my very soule dooth bleede. +God strengthen me with patience to endure +This chastisement, which I confesse too small +A punishment for this my hainous sinne. +Oh be couragious, sister! fight it well! +We shall be crown'd with immortallitie. + +_Rach_. I will not faint, but combat manfully; +Christ is of power to helpe and strengthen me. + +_Officer_. I pray make hast; the hower is almost past. + +_Mer_. I am prepar'd; oh God, receive my soule; +Forgive my sinnes, for they are numberlesse. +Receive me, God, for now I come to thee! + [_Turne of the Lather. Rachel shrinketh_. + +_Offi_. Nay shrinke not, woman; have a cheerefull hart. + +_Rach_. I, so I do, and yet this sinfull flesh +Will be rebellious gainst my willing spirit. +Come, let me clime these steps that lead to heaven, +Although they seeme the staires of infamie: +Let me be merror to ensuing times, +And teach all sisters how they do conceale, +The wicked deeds of brethren, or of friends. +I not repent me of my love to him, +But that thereby I have provoked God +To heavie wrath and indignation; +Which turne away, great God, for Christes sake. +Ah, _Harry Williams_, thou wert chiefest cause, +That I doe drinke of this most bitter cup, +For hadst thou opened _Beeches_ death at first, +The boy had liv'd and thou hadst sav'd my life. +But thou art branded with a marke of shame, +And I forgive thee from my very soule. +Let him and me learn all that heare of this +To utter brothers or their maisters misse; +Conceale no murthers, lest it do beget +More bloody deeds of like deformitie. +Thus God forgive my sinnes, receive my soule! +And though my dinner be of bitter death, +I hope my soule shall sup with Jesus Christ, +And see his presence everlastingly. [_Dyeth_. + +_Offi_. The Lord of heaven have mercy on her soule, +And teach all others by this spectacle, +To shunne such dangers as she ran into, +By her misguided taciturnitie: +Cut downe their bodies, give hers funerall, +But let his body be conveyed hence, +To _Mile-end_ greene, and there be hang'd in chaines. + + [_Exeunt omnes_. + + _Enter Truthe_. + +_Tru_. See here the end of lucre and desire +Of riches, gotten by unlawfull meanes. +What monstrous evils this hath brought to passe, +Your scarce-drie eyes give testimoniall; +The father sonne, the sister brother brings, +To open scandall and contemptuous death. + + _Enter Homicide and Covetousnesse_. + +But heere come they that wrought these deeds of ruthe, +As if they meant to plot new wickednesse. +Whether so fast, you damned miscreants, +Yee vaine deluders of the credulous, +That seeke to traine men to destruction? + +_Mur_. Why, we will on, to set more harmes a flote, +That I may swim in rivers of warme blood, +Out-flowing from the sides of Innocents. + +_Cove_. I will entice the greedie-minded soule, +To pull the fruite from the forbidden tree; +Yet _Tantall_-like, he shall but glut his eye, +Nor feede his body with salubrious fruite. + +_Tru_. Hence Stigmaticks, you shall not harbor heare, +To practice execrable butcheries! +My selfe will bring your close designes to light, +And overthrow your vilde conspiracies. +No hart shall intertaine a murthrous thought +Within the sea-imbracing continent, +Where faire _Eliza_, Prince of pietie, +Doth weare the peace-adorned Diadem. + +_Cove_. Mauger the worst, I will have many harts +That shall affect my secret whisperings; +And chinck of golde is such a pleasing crie, +That all men wish to heare such harmony, +And I will place stern _Murther_ by my side, +That we may do more harmes then haughty pride. + +_Homi_. Truth, now farewell; hereafter thou shalt see +Ile vexe thee more with many tragedies. + +_Truth_. The more the pitty; would the hart of man +Were not so open wide to entertaine +The harmfull baites of selfe-devouring sinne! +But from the first unto the latter times, +It hath and will be so eternally.---- +Now it remaines to have your good advice +Unto a motion of some consequence. +There is a Barke thats newly rigd for sea, +Unmand, unfurnishd with munition: +She must incounter with a greater foe +Then great _Alcydes_ slue in _Lerna_ Lake +Would you be pleasd to man this willing barke +With good conceits of her intencion; +To store her with the thundring furniture +Of smoothest smiles, and pleasing plaudiats; +She shall be able to endure the shock +Of snarling _Zoylus_, and his cursed crue, +That seekes to sincke her in reproches waves; +And may perchance obteine a victorie +Gainst curious carpes, and fawning parasites: +But if you suffer her, for want of ayde, +To be orewhelmed by her insulting foes, +Oh then she sinckes, that meant to passe the flood +With stronger force to do her countrie good. +It resteth thus; whether she live or dye, +She is your Beades-man everlastinglie. + + +Finis--Rob. Yarington. + +_Laus Deo_ + + + + + + +INTRODUCTION TO THE CAPTIVES; OR, THE LOST RECOVERED. + + +In Sir Henry Herbert's MS. Office-Book, under date Sept. 3rd, 1624, is +the entry:--"for the Cock-pit Company[44] a new play called the Captive +[_sic_] or the Lost Recovered, written by Hayward," i.e., Heywood. The +lost recovered! Lost for two centuries and a half was this comedy of +dear Tom Heywood, until I recovered it from Egerton MS. 1994. I am proud +to have rendered this service to a gentle poet who has given me many +hours of delight. + +The play is without title or author's name in the MS. After reading the +first page I judged that the author was Heywood, and this impression was +soon confirmed beyond all doubt. In the MS. the present play is +immediately followed by a piece called _Calisto_, which consists of +scenes from Heywood's _Golden Age_ and _Silver Age_. I have elsewhere +mentioned (Vol. ii. p. 419) that _Calisto_ and _The Captives_ are +written in the same desperately difficult handwriting,--peculiar to +these two plays, and not found in any other part of the volume. There +can be no doubt that whoever transcribed _Calisto_ transcribed also _The +Captives_. But from internal evidence alone--putting aside the testimony +afforded by the handwriting, and ignoring the entry in Sir Henry +Herbert's Office-Book--any competent reader could plainly perceive that +the play is Heywood's. In the very first scene--in the conversation +between Treadway and Raphael--we feel at once the charm of that hearty +"Christianism" which is never absent from Heywood's work. There is no +affectation in Heywood; he is always natural and simple, though +occasionally the writing sprawls. + +Everybody knows the droll description in Heywood's _English Traveller_ +of the "Shipwreck by Drink,"[45]--how some unthrift youths, carousing +deeply, chanced to turn their talk on ships and storms at sea; whereupon +one giddy member of the company suddenly conceived that the room was a +pinnace, that the sounds of revelry were the bawlings of sailors, and +that his unsteady footing was due to the wildness of the tempest; the +illusion spread among his companions, and a scene of whimsical confusion +followed. In _The Captives_, ii. 2, we have a similar conceit +suggested:-- + + _Scrib_. Such was the grace heaven sent us, who from perill, + Danger of lyfe, the extreamest of all extreames + Hathe brought us to the happy patronage + Of this most reverent abbott. + + _Clowne_. What dangers? what extreames? + + _Scrib_. From the sea's fury, drowneing; for last night + Our shipp was splitt, wee cast upon these rocks. + + _Clowne_. Sayd in a jest, in deede! Shipwreck by land! I perceive + you tooke the woodden waggen for a ship and the violent rayne for + the sea, and by cause some one of the wheels broake and you cast + into some water plashe, you thought the shipp had splitt and you + had bene in danger of drowneinge. + +The main story of _The Captives_ is borrowed from Plautus's _Rudens_, +many passages being translated almost word for word. It will be +remembered that in the _English Traveller_ Heywood was indebted to +another of Plautus's plays--the _Mostellaria_. I have not been able to +discover the source of the very curious underplot of _The Captives_. + +The MS. from which the play is printed bears every appearance of being a +play-house copy. Numerous passages have been cancelled, seemingly (for +the most part) by the hand of some reviser. In most instances I have +restored the cancelled passages to the text--though the task of +deciphering them has been cruelly difficult. + + + + +THE CAPTIVES; OR, THE LOST RECOVERED. + +A Comedy by THOMAS HEYWOOD. + + +Licensed by Sir Henry Herbert in 1624, +and now first printed from Egerton MS. 1994. + + + + +_Actus primus_. + +SCENA PR. + + + _Enter Mr. Raphael a younge marchaunt, Mr. Treadway + his companione and frend_. + +_Raphael_. You talke to one thats deaf; I am resolv'd. + +_Treadway_. I knwe [_sic_] you are not of that stupid sence +But you will lyst to reason. + +_Raphael_. Alls but vayne. + +_Treadway_. You saye shees fayre. + +_Raphael_. And there-fore to bee lov'd. + +_Treadway_.[46] No consequent +To trust to collour. Are not the bewtyous lyllyes, +The gardens pryde and glorye of the feilds, +Thoughe to the eye fayre and delectable, +Yet ranke in smell? the stayneles swanne +With all the Oceans water cannot wash +The blacknes from her feete, tis borne with her. +Oft painted vessayles bringe in poysond cates, +And the blackest serpents weare the goldenst scales; +And woman, made mans helper at the fyrst, +Dothe oft proove his destroyer. + +_Raphael_. Saye perhapps +Some frend of yours miscarried in his choyse, +Will you condeme all women for that one? +Bycause we reade one _Lais_ was unchast, +Are all Corinthian Ladyes cortesans? +Shall I, bycause my neighbours house was burnt, +Condeme the necessary use of fyre? +One surfeitts, and shall I refuse to eate? +That marchant man by shipwreck lost his goodds; +Shall I, bycause hee perisht in the sea, +Abiure the gainfull trade of merchandyse, +Despoyle my shipps, and unbecom [?] the deepes +Of theire fayre Sayles and tackles? + +_Treadway_. Not so, frend.[47] +Althoughe her person may perhapps content, +Consider but the place. + +_Raphael_. I knwe it badd, +Nay woorst of Ills. + +_Treadway_. A howse of prostitution +And common brothellrie. + +_Raphael_. Which coold not stand +But that her vertue guards it and protects it +From blastinges and heavens thunders. There shee lyves +Lyke to a ritche and pretious Jewell lost, +Fownd shyninge on a doonge-hill, yet the gemme +No wyse disparadged of his former worthe +Nor bated of his glory; out of this fyre +Of lust and black temptation sheis [_sic_] returned +Lyke gold repur'd and tryde. + +_Treadway_. Of what byrthe is shee? + +_Raphael_. Unknwne to mee or any: shee protests, +Neye to her self; what neede I question that? +Sure sutche sweete features, goodnes, modesty +Such gentlenes, such vertue cannot bee +Deryvd from base and obscure parentadge. + +_Treadway_. Whats then your end and purpose? + +_Raphael_. To redeeme her +Out of this gayle of sinne and leprosye, +This mart of all diseases, where shee lyves +Still under the comande and Tyrany +Of a most base hee-bawde: about which busines +Wee have allready traffict. + +_Treadway_. Well, if so, +And to dispose her elsewhere to her goodd, +Provided still that vertue be your ayme, +I cannot but commende your charity +And to my power I'l seeke to further it. + +_Raphael_. You so intyre mee to you. Within theire! + + _Enter the Clowne_. + +_Clowne_. Within theire is nowe without heare: your worshipps pleasure? + +_Raphael_. Hye to the next key and inquire for one cald Seignior +_Mildewe_ and resolve him from mee that I have kept apointment: the +somms redy and present to bee tendred. + +_Clowne_. Who? the _Frenshe_ monster,[48] _Neapolitan_ Seignor, the +man-makarel[49] and marchant of madens-fleshe that deales altogether +in flawed ware and crackt comodityes? the bawdy broker, I meanes, +where a man for his dollers may have choyse of diseases, and som tymes +the pox too, if hee will leeve beehind him a good pawne for it. + +_Raphael_. How thou drummst. + +_Clowne_. Marry qothe hee. So I may happen to bringe it awaye in my +nose. Well I smell some bawdy business or other in hand. They call this +place _Marcellis_ Roade, the cheiff haven towne in _France_, but hee +keepes a road[50] in his oune howse wherein have ridd and bin ridd more +leakinge vessayles, more panderly pinks,[51] pimps and punkes, more +rotten bottoms ballanst, more fly-boates[52] laden and unladen every +morninge and evenning tyde then weare able to fill the huge greate baye +of _Portingall_. Is this all, syr? + +_Raphael_. Yes all, and heares the somme. + +_Clowne_. A small somme of that is worthe all the busines that I am +sent about, for the all in all on't is I am afrayde that all will +proove woorthe nothinge. + +_Treadway_. And yet mee thinkes ere folly you conclude +You should a little stagger. + +_Raphael_. Should? wherein? + +_Treadway_. For many reasons: Il alleadge som fewe. +Who knwes but this your fayre and seeminge saynt, +Thoughe disposd well and in her owne condition +Of promisinge goodnes, yet livinge in the seminary +Of all libidinous actions, spectars, sights, +Even in the open market where sinne's sould +Where lust and all uncleanes are commerst +As freely as comodityes are vended +Amongst the noblest marchants,--who I saye +So confident that dare presume a virgin +Of such a soft and maiden temperature, +Deyly and howerly still sollicited +By gallants of all nations, all degrees, +Allmost all ages, even from upright youth +To the stoopinge and decrepitt-- + +_Raphael_. Heare mee nowe. + +_Treadway_. Two woords and I have doone: the place considered, +The basenes of the person under whome +Shee lyves opprest, a slave of sordid lyfe, +Conditiond with the devill, temptinge still +Sometymes by fayre means, then againe by foul, +To prostitute her for his servyle gaynes; +And next the dissolute crewe with which shees hows'd +Ech night, ech deye perswedinge boathe with toonge +And lewde example; all these circonstances +Duly considered, I shoold dowbt at least, +If not presume, the woorst. + +_Raphael_. Oh you have pleasd mee, +And in proposinge all these difficultyes +Given of her graces ample testimony. +Shee is that miracle, that only one +That cann doo these; wear't comon in the sexe +Twold not appeare to mee so admirable; +It is for these I love her. + +_Treadway_. You are resolvd +And I'l not staye your purpose. + + _Enter the Clowne with Mildewe and Sarleboys his + guest and frende_. + +_Clowne_. I have brought this flesh-fly whome as soone as the butchers +wyves sawe comminge throwghe the shambles, they all of them stood with +theire flapps in theire hands like fanns. I, demandinge the reason itt +was answerd me againe itt was to keepe away his infectious breath least +it should fill theire meate with fly-blowes. + +_Raphael_. Well, mett, good Mr. _Mildewe_. + +_Mildewe_. My returne +Of your salutes I cast belowe your feete. + +_Raphael_. Syr, I am yours to treade on. You will then +Stand to your former bargen? + +_Mildewe_. I weare else +Not woorthy to bee stil'd what I am tearmd, +A trewe venereall broaker. + +_Clowne_. That's in _Italian_ +A damnable hee bawde. + +_Mildewe_ Y'have such a bargen +Marcellis, nor all France, shall yeild the like. +Tis such a deynty peece of purity +Such a coy thinge that[53] hee unto whose lott +She shall hereafter fall may boast himself +To bee a happy husband. For our trade +Shees out at that: neather promises, rewards, +Example or Intreaty, fayre, fowle meanes, +Gaine present or the hope of future goodd, +Can force from her a presens; then much lesse +A frendly prostitution. + +_Raphael_. Hearst thou this? + +_Treadway_. Yes[54] and comende it in her, if that toonge, +Even from his fyrst of speakinge traind to lye, +Can now at lengthe speake truth. + +_Clowne_. Ay theres the dowbt. + +_Sarly_. This too yeares I have quested to his howse, +And knwe all this most certeine. + +_Raphael_. Witnes too. + +_Mildewe_. I doo protest she spoyles my family +And rather growne a hyndrance to my trade +Then benefitt; so that, if not to losse, +I wishe that I were clerly ridd of her, +For shee hathe gott a trick to[55] my whores; +And such as of themselves are impudent, +When shee but coms in presens she makes blushe, +As if ashamd of what they late had doon +Or are about to doo. + +_Clowne_. Well sayde, ould sinner. + +_Raphael_. See, heeres the sum, 3 hundred crownes. + +_Mildewe_. O'th somme. + +_Raphael_. All currant and full weight. + +_Mildewe_. I'l fetch my doughter +That hath no lightnes in her, currant too +As any lasse i'th cittye. + +_Raphael_. _Mildewe_, staye. + +_Clowne_. Staye, oh thou father of fornication and marchant of nothinge +but mesteryes and mischeife; whele about, thou dung[c]art of diseases; +sayle this way thoue galley foyst[56] of galls and garbadge! Dost not +heare my master? staye! + +_Mildewe_. Why, did his worshippe call? + +_Clowne_. Didst thou not heare him call, and mee cry out upon thee? + +_Mildewe_. His pleasure then? + +_Raphael_. I have bethought mee better nowe to keepe +This business secrett, least it chance to arryve +To th'eares of some of my most noble frends; +And not to make it publicke and this honest +Purpose of myne by that meanes misreated,[57] +Heare lett her stay till night bycause I am loath +In th'eye of day to move her through the streetes. + +_Mildewe_. Good, syr. + +_Raphael_. Nwe [Now] in the villaige by, that fronts the sea, +Som halff league off where stands the monastery, +I have bespoake a place to sojorn her. +There I this evening do intend[58] a feast +Where only wee and som fewe private frends +Have purpost to bee jhoviall. To that place +I prithee, with what pryvacy thou canst, +Conduct her and so add unto our guests. + +_Mildewe_. The place I knwe, the tyme is perfect with mee, +And for the feast you saye you have prepared +I shall provyde a stomacke. + +_Raphael_. Her caskett, and such other necessaryes +Included in our bargen, bring alonge +Or lett her mayde do'ot for thee. + +_Mildewe_. I'l not bate her +A ruff or ragge; no pinne that's usefull too her +Will I keepe backe. + +_Raphael_. To this you are witnes, frend. + +_Treadway_. I am, Syr. + +_Mildewe_. So's my guest. + +_Clowne_. And lookes as if with me +Hee only could write witlesse. + +_Raphael_. Supper tyme +You will remember, _Mildewe_. + +_Mildewe_. Possible +I should forgett to eate of others' cost? +It never was my custom. + +_Clowne_. Choake you for't. + +_Raphael_. Come, frend, mee thinks I have doone a deede this day +Crownes all my better actions, for I have raised +An Innocent from the hands of an Infidell agent. + +_Clowne_. Farewell, rott, farewell murreine, adiewe. + +_Mildewe_. Farewell till soone. + + [_Exeunt Raphael, Treadway, and Clowne_. + +_Sarleb_. And do you meane to keepe your promisse then, +And doo as you have sayde? + +_Mildewe_. Why not, I prithee? +What else canst thou advyse mee? + +_Sarleb_. Are not wee +Boathe of a rotten conscience, men debosht, +Secluded from the company of such +As either are or else would stryve to bee +Reputed honest? wherefore then should wee +Keepe tutche with any that professe themselves +Not to bee of our ranke? + +_Mildewe_. Proceede, good frend: +Thou hast putt project in my brayne allredy, +Small tyme woold better fashion. + +_Sarleb_. What if I +Laye such a plotte that you shall gayne these crownes +These full three hundred to your proper use, +And of these peevishe harletryes at home +Make a much greater market? + +_Mildewe_. Marry, syr, +That were a tale worth listeninge. + +_Sarleb_. These crowns +Are all your owne in your possession, +So are the maydes. I knowe you ritche besydes +In coyne and jewells; heere you lyve despysed, +And whats this clime to us of more esteme +Then any forreine region? whores and bawdes +May lyve in every corner of the woorld, +We knowe tis full of sinners. This, this day +Letts hyre a bark; wee dwell upon the haven, +And instantly 'tis done. Shipp all your goods +With these shee-chatteyles; putt this night to sea-- +England they saye is full of whormasters; +There will bee vent for such comoditye, +There strompett them where they (you saye) weare born, +Else you in _Spayne_ may sell them to the stewes, +_Venyce_ or any place of _Italy_; +They are everywhere good chaffer. If not these, +What saye you to _Morocho, Fesse, Algiers_? +Faith these are wares in all parts vendible, +No matter thoughe to _Turke_ and infidell, +So itt bringe gayne and profitt. + +_Mildewe_. Lett me hugg thee +For this, deare frend; heareafter I will style thee +My better genius; thou hast monied mee in this, +Nay landed me, made me thy braynes executor, +And putt mee in a lardge possession. +Go hyre a barke. + +_Sarlab_. I shall. + +_Mildewe_. And instantly. + +_Sarlab_. I shall. + +_Mildewe_. Ere night wee'l putt into a sea +No larger then our full stretcht consciences. +Lett mee once more Imbrace thee. + [_Exeunt_. + + +SCENA 2. + + _Enter an Abbot with his covent[59] of Fryars, amongst + them Fryar Jhon, and Fryar Ritchard_. + +_Abbot_. As I have heare priority of place, +Boathe by our patrons favour and your voyce, +So give me leave to arbitrate amongst you. + +_Fr. Jhon_. Without respect of person wee acknowledge you. +Our prince and cheiff. + +_Fr. Rich_. And to your fatherly +And grave advyse humbly submitt our selves. + +_Abbot_. Knwe then in this small covent, which consysts +Only of 12 in nomber, fryars I meane +And us the Abbat, I have fownde amongst you +Many and grosse abuses; yet for the present +I will insist on fewe. Quarrells, debates, +Whisperinge, supplantinges, private calumnyes, +These ought not bee in such a brotherhood. +Of these Fryar _Jhon_ and thou Fryar _Richard_ are +Accused to bee most guilty, ever jarring +And opposite to peace. + +_Fr. Jhon_. The faults in him. + +_Fr. Rich_. As in all other thinges, so even in this +Hee still is apt to wronge mee. + +_Fr. Jhon_. Hee that fyrst gives th'occation, fyrst complaines: +It ever was his fashion. + +_Fr. Rich_. Never myne: +I appeale to the whole covent. + +_Abbot_. Mallyce rooted, +I finde, is woondrous hard to bee supprest. +But knwe where consell and advise preveyle not, +The fayrest meanes that I can wourk your peace, +I'l take upon mee my authority, +And where I finde in you the least contempt +I shall severely punishe. + +_Fr. Jhon_. I submitt. + +_Fr. Rich_. I yeeld myself to your grave fatherhood. + +_Abbot_. Consider, sonnes, this cloystered place of ours +Is but newe reared; the founder, hee still lyves, +A souldier once and eminent in the feild, +And after many battayles nowe retyrd +In peace to lyve a lyff contemplative. +Mongst many other charitable deedes, +Unto religion hee hathe vowed this howse, +Next to his owne fayre mantion that adjoynes +And parted only by a slender wall. +Who knwes but that hee neighboring us so neare +And havinge doone this unto pious ends, +May carry over us and our behavioures +An austere eye of censure? + +_Fr. Jhon_. Fitt therefore +Wee should bee in our actions cautelous.[60] + +_Fr. Rich_. And carefull least wee may incurr displeasure +Of such a noble patron. + +_Abbot_. Well observ'd. +His bewtious Lady-- + +_Fr. Jhon_. A sweete soule indeede. + +_Fr. Rich_. On whom Fryar _Jhon_ casts many a leering eye: +I have observd that too. + +_Abbot_. Boath for her outward feature +And for her inward graces excellent +Beyond compare, shee lykewyse is to us +A worthy benefactor. + +_Fr. Rich_. Tis confest. + +_Fr. Jhon_. Would I might com to bee her confessor: +It is a fayre sweete lady. + +_Fr. Rich_.[61] Howe the lecher +Hugges at the very name. + +_Abbot_. Morninge and eveninge +They deyly com to mattens and to evensonge; +Such and so greate is theire devotion. +That, if not crasd or feylinge in theire healthe, +They do not misse us any hower of prayer; +And therefore it behooves us all in generall +To sett a carefull watche upon our deedes, +Least we that are proffest religious +Bee in the least deffective. + +_Fr. Richard_. Noate, Fryar _Jhon_, +Howe hee makes anticke faces and in scorne +Of this your reverent counsell. + +_Fr. Jhon_. I, alas? +A weaknes from my childhood, I confesse, +I ever had and cannott helpe it nowe, +To have a trobled countenance. I make mouthes? +This (most observed father) but approoves +My innosens and his envye. Markt you that? +Fryar _Richard_ bent his fyst and threatned mee. +I call all these to witnesse. + +_Fr. Rich_. No such thinge. +I have a crampe oft takes me in this hand +And makes mee weare clutcht ringers, and that passion +Now came upon mee; but for meanacinge him +It ever was farr from mee. This but showes +His owld inveterate mallice, which in charity +I wishe might heare lye buried.--Syrrah, anon +I'l have you by the eares. + +_Fr. Jhon_. Doo if thou darst; +We'll tugge it out by the teeth. + +_Fr. Rich_. Meete me i'th orchard +Just after even song. + +_Fr. Jhon_. I will make short prayers +Bycause I'l keepe appointment. + +_Abbot_. I am playne +And breife with all: eather betwixt you too [_sic_] +Make frendly reconsilement, and in presence +Of this your brotherhood (for what is fryar +But _frater_, and that's brother?), or my selfe +Out of my power will putt you to a penance +Shall make you in one weeke fyve fasting-dayes. + +_Fr. Jhon_. Oh terrible! + +_Abbot_. Or, if that will not tame you, +I will complayne to'th fownder of your loosenes, +Your riotts, and disorders, and petition +That you, as sowers off seditious hatred[62] +And sole disturbers of our common peace, +Maye bee excluded this society, +Banisht by common barre-law, and shutt out +To publick shame and beggerye. + +_Fr. Rich_. Horrible! + +_Fr. Jhon_. Fyrst then to showe my submisse willingnes +And forwardnes withall: with as much charity +As any new reformed man maye doo, +I with a zeale and hart new reconsiled +Thus humbly begge his love. +(Y'are a rogue, _Ritchard_.) + +_Fr. Rich_. To meete his trewe +And most unfeigned affection, heare in face +And viewe of this our holly brotherhoode, +As if in open coort with this mi[63] breath +I heare confine all hatred. +(_Jhon_, y'are a Jack sauce, I meane a sawcye Jacke.) + +_Fr. Jhon_. The orchard. + +_Fr. Rich_. Theare. + +_Abbot_. Why, this is as it should bee, and becomes +A trew religious order. Such as are sequestred +And vowed unto a strict monasticke lyfe, +Ought to putt off these grosse and prophane sinnes +Most frequent amongst laye-men. Unity, +Due conformation and fraternall love. +Devotion, hott zeale, and obediens; these +Are vertues that become a cloyster best. +Nowe lett's retyre unto our oresons +And p[r]eye for our good fownders; may they still +Grow to our wishe and thryve to theire owne will. + + [_Exeunt all but Friar Jhon_. + +_Fr. Jhon_. More then I woold to have my wishe on thee, +_Richard_, though I have a good stomacke too't, +Ey, and to baste thee sowndly, I woold nowe +To have my will one her. Tis a sweete creature; +Our patron owld, shee younge; som hope in that. +Besydes, shee's woondrous kind and affable; +And when we duck or congee, smiles as if +Shee tooke som pleasure in our shaven crownes. +I am the fyrst that every morninge, when +Shee passes through the cloyster to her prayers, +Attend her with good morrowe, pray for her health. +For her content and pleasure, such as canott bee +Hop't or expected from her husband's age; +And these my frendly wishes she returnes +Not only in kind language but sweete smiles, +The least of which breede som Incoradgement. +I will, if shee persist to proove thus kind, +If not to speeke my thoughts, to wryte my mynd. + + [_Exit_. + + + +SCENA TERTIA. + + + _Thunder_. + + _Enter after a greate Tempestuous storme Mr. Ashburne + an Englishe marchant and his man Godfrey_. + +_Ashburne_. Was ever knowne such a tempestuous night +Of thunder, hayle, wynd, lightninge! Twas as if +The fower seditious brothers threatned warr +And weare but nowe at battayle. + +_Godfrey_. The fower winds you meane; blusteringe fellowes they are. +Preye God all be well at sea, for I am sure the roofes tyles and +ridges have payde for it a shewer.[64] + +_Ashb_. The very rafters of the howses bend; +Some breake and are demolisht; barnes blowne downe; +The very chimneyes rattle ore our heads; +The strongest buildinges tremble just as if +Theire is above a tempest, so belowe +There weare a fearefull earth-quake. + +_Godfrey_. All our howses +Are nothinge nowe but windowes, broad bay windowes +So spatious that carts laded may drive throughe +And neather loush oth' topp or eathere syde. +Lights every where, we shall have lightnes inoughe: +Heares stupid woork for daubers! + +_Ashburne_. We are forct +All to forsake the villaige and to fly +Unto the feilds for succor. + +_Godfrey_. Syr, it putt me +In minde of the greate King _Agathocles_, +Who was, as I have heard you oft relate, +Brain'd with a Tyle. Why may not meaner men +Then feare the fall of brick batts? + + _Enter Raphael, Treadway, and the Clowne_. + +_Treadway_. A strange night +And full of terror; yet, thanks heaven, well past. + +_Raphael_. Oh, but I feare the greater storms to come, +A gust that will more shake mee. + +_Clowne_. More, quothe hee; I can scarce see howe that well can bee, +for I can assure you the garrett that I laye in putt mee in mind of +myne infancye, for I lye all the night longe as if I had bin rockt +in a cradle. + +_Raphael_. Oh, frend, I feare this false and perjur'd slave, +That hathe not kept apointment, hath deceiv'd mee +Boathe of my coyne and pretious marchandyse. + +_Clowne_. Did you ever looke for better from a Judas [?] of his +he[yre]?[65] + +_Raphael_. Which if hee have-- + +_Clowne_. Why then hee hathe, and the mends is in y'r owne hands: +that's all that I can say too't. + +_Raphael_. Hee hathe undone mee dubly. + +_Treadway_. Hope the best. +Perhapps the threatninge weather kept him backe: +Itt was a trobled skye, the soon set blusheing, +The rack cam swiftly rushing from the west; +And these presadges of a future storme, +Unwillinge for to trust her tendernes +Unto such feares, might make him fayle his hower; +And yet with purpose what hee slack't last night +Howe to make goodd this morninge. + +_Raphael_. Oh you tent[66] +My woonds too gently, dally with my dowbts +And flutter my trewe feares: the even was calme, +The skye untrobled, and the soon went downe +Without disturbance in a temperate ayr. +No, not the least conjecture coold be made +Of such a suddeine storme, of which the woorld +Till after midnight was not sensible. +His hower was supper, and in faylinge that-- + +_Clowne_. Ey, nowe begin I to feare too for thee. Breake his woord if +it bee to com to dinner or supper! I'l never trust his bond for the +valewe of a threepenny ordenarye after. + +_Raphael_. Post you back to the citty; make inquiries +And most strickt search to find that _Mildewe_ out; +Whom if you meete, fyrst rate his last neclect, +Then hasten his repayer. Heare you shall finde mee +Or in the waye home; for in all this villaige +I woll not leave a howse, a place unsearcht. +If where hee dwells you misse him, then demande +Att every bey what shippinge late went out. +If any vowed love still remane betwixt us, +Make it appear nowe in your present care +And expedition. + +_Treadw_. I'l be your _Mercury_, +Not fayle you in the least. + +_Raphael_. And so betwixt us +Increase a frendshipp that was never flawed. + + [_Exit[67] Treadway_. + +_Ashburne_. This gentleman, itt seemes, hathe in this tempest +Sustein'd som losse, he appears so much disturb'd. + +_Clowne_. See, syr, heare are some it may bee beelonge to this +villadge; you had best aske of them. + +_Raphael_. And well advysed. Hayle, father! + +_Godfrey_. No more hayle if you love mee; we had too much of that +last night. + +_Ashburne_. Of what sexe are you that you call me so? +I have bene father of a doughter once, +Though not these many yeares blest with her sight, +But of a soone yet never. + +_Raphael_. What you have lost +May you in som most fayer and fortunate hower +Againe find to your comfort. + +_Ashburne_. You wishe well. + +_Raphael_. Sawe you not bowte this villadge late last night, +Or early now i'th morninge, a short fellowe +Thin heyred, flat nosed, sand-bearded and squint eyde? + +_Clowne_. The mapp of misfortune and very picture of ill luck. + +_Raphael_. Grosse-wasted, gowty-legg'd. + +_Clowne_. Whose face is puft up like a bladder and whose belly +lyke a toonne. + +_Raphael_. Owld, graye and hoary. + +_Clowne_. And withall cheatinge, cousininge, and crafty; a remarkable +raskall, a damnable deceiver, and a most substantiall cinner. + +_Ashburne_. By such I have much suffred in my state, +Opprest almost to utmost penury +In my once better fortune; but so late +I sawe not any such. + +_Raphael_. Hee was expected +To bee attended by too [_sic_] handsome gurles, +Boathe younge, boathe fayre, but th'one unparreld [_sic_]; +Neather of which by computation +Hathe told so hye as twenty. + +_Ashb_. If such I chance to meete by accident +I'l send you notyce. Please you leave your name +And place of your abode. + +_Raphael_. _Raphael_ I am cald, +A marchant in _Marcellis_, and my lodginge +Is at the _Parratt_ in the markett-place; +There you shall finde mee knowne. + +_Ashb_. And by that name +Presume I'l not forgett you. + +_Raph_. For which curtesy, +Fare you well, syr; +You shall oblighe mee to you. If not heare +Weele seeke her further; _France_ shall not conteine them +But I will finde theire start-holes. + +_Ashb_. Good speede with you. + +_Clowne_. If I weare a dogge nowe and coold hunt dry foote[68] +I could smell them out presently. + + [_Exeunt[69] Raphael and Clown_. + +_Ashb_. Come lett us mount ourselfes upon these rockes +And, havinge feelinge of our hurts at land, +Letts see what shyppes have ben distrest at sea, +If any shaken in this storme or wreckt; +And though wee cannot help the miserable +Yet lett them taste our pittye. + +_Godfrey_. Sir, content; but I hope your fishermen have not putt to +sea this night. If they have I sweare they have showed themselves +much madder then the tempest. + +_Ashb_. I hope they have bin more discreate and wyse +Then with the hazard of my boates and netts +To indanger theire owne lyves. + +_Godfr_. See: do you see, Syr? + +_Ashb_. What? + +_Godfr_. Why, yonder. + +_Ashb_. Where? + +_Godfr_. There towards yon shore. + +_Ashb_. A shipp laboringe for liffe +Nowe cast upon the rocks, nowe splitt, nowe sinkinge, +Nowe dasht to peeces. + +_Godfr_. I see all mischeifes do not com by land, +Som's doone upon the water. + +_Ashb_. Though theire goodes perishe, +Yet in thy mercy, heaven, protect theire lyves. +Som sitt upon the planks, som on the masts, +Som hange upon the cables, and som few +Have only gott the cock-boat; others swimme. +Oh that wee shoold beehold theire misery +And want power to assiste them! + +_Godfr_. Sure, syr, it was som shipp of passengers, +For see you not too women? daynty ducks! +Would they coold swime as ducks can, see how they spread +And cast theire legges abroad lyke naked frogges! +See howe they spread theire armes and stryve for lyfe! +I[70] would I weare som Dolphin or some whayle +That they might sitt astryde upon my backe +To beare them safe ashore; but I as yet +Could neare indure still water. See yet still, +Still theire coates beare them upp, keepe them aloft; +The modest ayer not willinge to discover +That which the bawdy waves shame not belowe +Rudely to lifte and handle. + +_Ashb_. Blesse them heaven! +The wind and tyde still beate them towards the shore, +But oh that cursed billowe hath devyded +And parted them asunder. Yet all's well; +They still beare upp. If they but scape the next +There may bee hope of safetye. + +_Godfr_. One's driven this way, +The tother that; the men shift for themselves, +Howe shall we save thes women? + +_Ashb_. No meanes unlesse we leape downe from the rockes, +And that's meare desperation. Yet to showe +Our charityes to wretches thus extreame, +Lett's see if wee can find the least descent +And hasten to theire suckor. + +_Godfr_. By your favour, +I had rather they with brine shoold break their bellys +Then I my neck with clamberinge. + + _Explicit Actus primus_. + + + + +_Actus 2_. + +SCENA PRIMA. + + + _Storme continewed. Enter Palestra all well, as newly + shipwreckd and escapt the fury of the seas_. + +_Palestra_.[71] Is this then the reward of Innocense, +Of goodness to our selfes, namely chast lyfe, +Pietye to our parents, love to all, +And above all our Christian zeale towardes heaven? +But why shoold wee poore wretches thus contest +Against the powers above us, when even they +That are the best amongst us are servd badd? +Alas, I never yet wrongd man or child, +Woman or babe; never supplanted frend +Or sought revendge upon an enemy. +You see yet howe we suffer; howe shall they then +That false their faythes, that are of uncleane lyfe +And then not only sinne unto them selves +But tempt and persuade others? what shall I thinke +Becoms of my base guardian? though the waves +Have spared the guiltles, sure his putrid s[oule][72] +Cannot escape heavens justyce! wee poor wretches +Are punishe [_sic_] for his grosse impietyes, +They mov'd heavens wrathe, who stir'd the winds and waves +Stryvinge whose fury should destroy us fyrst. +These boathe conspyringe in our ruinne, th'one +Beate us belowe the billowes whilst the other +Swallowed boathe shippe and goodes; [amongst] the rest +A[73] budget or portmantau which includes +All the bawdes wealth. But that weare nothinge to mee +Though he had vowed and sworne to make mee his heyer; +The losse I so lament is a small caskett +Kept by him from my childhood, and packt up +Amongst his treasure; and that perishinge, +I forfett the longe expectation +Ever to knowe my parents, therefore wishe +With it I had i'th sea been buried. + + _Enter Scribonia_. + +_Scrib_. With perill of oft fallinge and the danger +Of second deathe, having new scapt the fyrst, +I have with feare and terror clim'd these rocks, +And these too past I feare to meete a thyrd. +I spy no howse, no harbor, meete no creature +To point mee to some shelter; therefore heare +Must starve by famine or expire by could. +O'th sea the whystlinge winds still threaten wreckes, +And flyinge nowe for refuge to the lande +Find nought save desolation. Thoughe these three, +Three dreadfull deaths all spare mee, yeat a fowerth, +I cannot shoone [shun] in my _Palestras_ losse, +More[74] deare to mee then all the world besides, +For the best blood of myne runns in her veynes, +This lyfe breath in her bosom. Oh my _Palestra_! + +_Palestr_. Numnes and feare, hungar and sollitude, +Besydes my casket, my _Scribonia's_ losse, +All these at once afflict mee. + +_Scrib_. Notheinge mee +More than _Palestra's_ deathe. Ha, who's that spake? +Suer twas som womans voyce! if my _Palestra_ +Only for her sake I coulde wishe to live. + +_Pal_. Then lyve, my deere _Scribonia_, synce I am only +Spar'd to partake with thee newe miseryes. + +_Scrib_. Scarce can I bee perswaded you are shee: +But, bee yt but her shadowe, give mee leave +For her remembrance to imbrace it thus. + +_Palest_. These armes at once locke all my lyvinge hopes +In my restored _Scribonia_. + +_Scrib_. Nowe I perceave +My comfort is not meare imaginary +But reall and effectuall. Lyve you then? + +_Pal_. To triumphe in your safety. + +_Scrib_. Possible +That mongst these desert unfrequented rocks +Thou can imadgine such a thing can be +As that which you call safety? + +_Pal_. Yes, _Scribonia_, +And comfort too; for, see, I spy a villadge, +A maner and a fayre built monastery, +Just at the foott of this descendeinge hill. +And where, if not amongst religious men, +Shoold we find that's calld charity? + +_Scrib_. Thether, then: +Lett[75] us make hast with all the speede we can: +Fyre at the least I hope it [is?] well assured, +Besydes releiffe and harbor. + +_Pal_. Can you begge? + +_Scrib_. What will not rude necessity compell +Distressed folke to doo? We'll not doo't basely, +For beinge brought upp to musick and to sing, +Demandinge in that kind there charity, +And they perceivinge us much better bred +Then these our present fortunes might deserve, +May move in them compassions. + +_Pal_. Lett's retyre +To the backe gate then, there complane our wants +And that which others doo with impudence +Lett us in shame and blushes. + +_Scrib_. Som sweete echo +Speake from these walls and answer to our wants, +And eather lend som comfort to our grieffs +Or send us hence dispayringe and asham'd. + + [_They go in_. + +_Pal_. _Oh charity where art thou fled, +And nowe how longe hast thou been dead? + +Answer within. Oh many many many hundred yeares + +Scrib. In villadge, borrough, towne or citty +Remaines there yet no grace, no pitty? + +Answ. Not in sighes, not in want, not in teares. + +Pal. Cold comfort in this answer; but proceede. + +Above. we see a threatninge skye. + +Answ. Beelowe the winds and gusts blowe hye, +And all all to fright hence this same juell. + +Scrib. The lightninges blast, the thunders cracke, +The billows menace nought save wracke. + +Answ. And yet man is then these much more crewell. + +Pal. Unless my judgment quite miscarry, +Shee may lyve in som monastery. + +Answ. Tis a place too that was fyrst assigned her. + +Scrib. If not amongst religious men, +Yett where, where shall wee seeks her then? + +Answ. Yet even there, there, you scarce scarce can find her. + +Pal. If chastity and Innocens tryde +Have boathe escaped wind and tyde-- + +Answ. Yet oh why should the land, land these cherish? + +Scrib. Of whome even billowes have a care, +Whom seas preserve, whom tempests spare-- + +Answ. Yet these these amongst men may perishe._ + +_Pal_. Uncharitable echo! from a place +Of pure devotion canst thou answer that? +If not in these religious monasteries, +In what place can we find could charity? + +_Scrib_. Where ere wee meete her shee is lyke our selfes, +Bare, without harbor, weake and comfortles. + + _Enter Fryer John_. + +_Fr. Jhon_. What singeinge beggers were those at the gate +That would so early rowse our charity, +Before it was half styrringe or awake? + + _Enter Fryer Richard_. + +I thinke I answerd them in such a way +As I beleeve scarce pleas'd them. + +_Fr. Rich_. What sweete musick +Was that at the back gate hath cald mee upp +Somwhat before my hower? + +_Fr. Jhon_. Morrow, fryar _Richard_: +Howe did you lyke our last night's buffetinge? +Whilst all the rest of our fraternity +In feare of that greate tempest weare att prayers, +Wee too pickt out that tyme of least suspition +And in the orchard hand to hand weare att it. + +_Fr. Rich_. Tis trew for blooddy noses; and, Fryar _Jhon_, +As you lyke that which is allredy past +So chalendge mee hereafter. But whence cam +Those sweete and delicate voyces? + +_Fr. Jhon_. I bare part +In theire sadd quire though none of these yet knw't. +But peace: our Father Abbat. + + _Enter the Abbot with other fryars_. + +_Abbott_. Morrow, soonns, +An early blessinge on you, if as the larke +Rysen beetymes still to salute the soon, +So your devotion pluckes you from your bedds +Beefore your hower unto your orisons. +Did you not heare a musicall complaynt +Of women that in sadd and mournefull tones +Bewayld theire late disasters, harshly answerd +By a churlish echo? + +_Fr. Jhon_. Som such thinge wee heard. + +_Fr. Rich_. The noates still persist with mee. + +_Pal_. There appeares +In his grave lookes bothe zeele and charity; +Letts to his sight boldly expose ourselfes. +Hayle, reverent father! + +_Abbot_. What are you poore soules +Thus wett and wether-bitt? + +_Scrib_. Ere you demand +Further from us, letts tast your Christian charity, +Som fyare, som harbor, least ere our sadd tale +Bee fully tould wee perishe. + +_Abbot_. Why, whence came you? + +_Pal_. From sea; our shipp last night in the great storme +Cast on these rocks and split; this the fyrst place +Exposed unto our eyes to begge releiff. +But oh I faynt. + +_Abbot_. Some[76] faggotts instantly: +Hott brothes, hott water for them, and warme cloathes. +Whome the high powers miraculously preserve, +Whome even the merciles waves have borne ashore, +Shall we soe sinke a land? Even wee our selfes +That lyve and eate by others charity, +To others shall not wee bee charitable? +All succor, all supply that can be given, +They from our hands shall tast. + +_Fr. Jhon_. Shall we remove them +Into the cloyster? + +_Fr. Rich_. Tis agaynst our oath +On any, though the great'st, extremity +To addmitt women thether. + +_Abbot_. That I knowe: +Yet in som out-office see them chear'd, +Want nothinge that the cloyster can affourd. +Theire bewtyes, though my eye be bleynd at them, +Deserve no lesse; I looke on theire distresse +And that I pitty. Ech one lend a hand +To take off from theire present misery +And ease theire tender shoulders; when they are cheer'd +And better comforted, I'l finde occatione +To enquire further from them. + +_Pal_. Heaven be as kind +To you as you to us! + +_Abb_. Feare not fayre damselles: +This place, though not within the monastery, +Yet stands within the cloysters previledge +And shallbee unto you a sanctuary. + +_Scrib_. No other wee expect it. + +_Abb_. Guide them in: [_Bell ring_. +Bewty and youthe to pitty 'tis no sinne. + + _The bell ringes to mattens. Enter the Lord de Averne + and his Lady. Dennis and others_. + +_Fr. Jhon_. Harke, the bell ringes to mattens. + +_Fr. Rich_. See withall +Our noble patron with his lovely lady +Prepare for theire devotion. Nowe, Friar _Jhon_, +Your letcherous eye is conninge. + +_Fr. Jhon_. I knowe my place. + +_Abbott_. Way for our noble founder! + +_L. Aberne_. Morrowe, father; +So to the rest of all the brotherhood. + + [_The quire and musick; the fryars make a lane + with ducks and obeysance_. + +_Voyces. Te tuosque semper, oh semper beamus, +Et salvos vos venisse, o venisse gaudeamus._ + +_Fr. Jhon_. Good daye to our fayre foundresse! + +_Lady_. Mercy, Fryar _Jhon_; +Above the rest you are still dutifull, +For which wee kindly thanke you. + + [_Exeunt: manet Jhon_. + +_Fr. Jhon_. Kindly thanke you! +Nay, smyld withall! allthough that I have more +Then a monthes mind[77] to these younge harletryes +Yet heares the grownd on which I fyrst must build +And ryse my fortunes many steepes[78] hye. +Nay, I perhapps, ere they can drye there smocks, +Will putt th'affayre in motion, whyle these are +Att solleme mattens. I'l take pen and wryte, +And sett my mind downe in so quaint a strayne +Shall make her laughe and tickle, whylst I laughe +And tickle with the thought on't, still presuminge +These lookes, these smyles, these favours, this sweete language +Could never breathe, butt have theire byrthe from love. +But how to ha'tt delivered? there's the dowbt. +Tush I have plott for that too; hee, no questione, +That sett mee on to compasse this my will, +May when the up-shoote comes assist mee still. + + [_Exit_. + + + +SCENA 2. + + [_Tempest. Thunder_. + + _Enter 2 Fishermen_. + +_1st Fish_. The trobled sea is yet scarce navigable +Synce the last tempest: yet wee that only lyv +By our owne sweatt and labour, nor cann eate +Beffore[79] wee fetch our foode out of the sea, +Must ventur thoughe with daunger or bee suer +With empty stomakes go unsupt to bed. + +_2nd Fish_. And so it often happens. + +_1 Fish_. See the cordaige +Be stronge and tight, the netts with all theire stringes, +Plometts, and corks, well plac't for hookes and bates, +This daye wee shall have little use of them: +The wind's still hye, beare but a gentle sayle +And hazard not the channele. Keepe alonge +Close by the shoare, the rocks will shelter us +And may perhapps affoord us lobsters, praunes, +Shrimps, crabbes, and such lyke shell fishe; hence[80] we may +Hunt the sea urchen, and with safety too; +There's many holde hime for a dayntye fishe, +Hee sells well in the markett. That poore men +Are forct too, for a slender competens, +A little to prolonge a wretched lyfe! + +_2 Fish_. Com then lett us weighe anchor and aboord: +The soone is upp allredy. + + _Enter the Clowne_. + +_Clowne_. If ever menn weare madd then suer my master is not well in his +witts, and all about this wenshe; here's such sendeinge and seekeinge, +hurriinge and posteinge, and all to no purpose. I have nowe some thyrty +errands to deliver and knowe not to whome nor where, what nor to which +place fyrst; hee's gone on to the citty and sent mee back to the +villaige, whither his frend travelled[81] one waye, hee another, and I +a thyrd contrary from them boathe; he cannott beleeve his inquiry to be +well doone but hee must send me to doo't over againe. I have asked all +I mett and demanded of all I have seene.[82] But what are theese? these +should bee fishermen. Good morrowe, you sea theeves.[83] + +_1 Fish_. You call us theeves that may proove honester +Than many goe for trewe[84] men on the shore. + +_Clowne_. Sawe[85] you not passe this [way] an ould bald fellowe +hutch-shoolderd, crooked nos'd, beetle browd, with a visadge lowreing +and a looke skowlinge; one that heaven hates and every good man +abhors; a cheatinge raskall and an ugly slave,--did note such passe +you? + +_1 Fish_. If such a one as you describe you inquire for, +Mee thinks, my frend, thou hast mistooke thy way; +Thou shouldst have sought him at the gallowes rather, +There such are soonest fownd. + +_Clowne_. Byrlady, worst answered of a playne fellowe; but that you may +knowe him the better, hee had too handsome streete-singing-fact lasses +in his companye. + +_2 Fish_. And for such creatures y'had best search the stewes +O'th citty; this our villadge yields none such. +This fellowe doth but flowte us; letts aboord. + +_1 Fish_. Inquire for us of wenshes? tush, wee fishe +For no such perewinkles; farewell flesh mongere. + + [_Ex. Fish_. + +_Clowne_. No wonder these fellowes pretend to be witty; for +understandinge, so manye have lost there witts as ... they have fisht +for it and in som drawenett or other have caught it. But where might +these lost shrewes bee? I suspect this pestiferous _Je vous prie_ hathe +putt some slovenly tricke or other to cheate my mayster boathe of his +ware and mony. + + _Enter Scribonia with an empty pale to y'e Clow_. + +_Scribon_. Thus beinge chered with warmth, and change of clothes, +With all such comforts as the cloyster yeelds, +I am dyrected to a neighbours by +For water to refreshe and wash our selves. +And this shoold bee the howse. + +_Clowne_. What! not _Scribonia_, +One of the flock that's missing? + +_Scrib_. Oh sweete _Jayms_, +Where is your noble maister? + +_Clowne_. Nay, sweete rogue, +Where is his bewteous mystresse? + +_Scrib_. Heare within. + +_Clowne_. In this place joyninge to the monastery? +And _Mildewe_ too? + +_Scrib_. Rott on that villeyne! no. + +_Clowne_. Hee promist to bringe you too alonge and meete with my master +and som others of his frends att supper. + +_Scrib_. Can such men, ever false unto theire God, +Keepe faythe with men at any tyme? + +_Clowne. _But staye, staye, there's one riddle I cannot expound: howe +com thou so suddenly to lepp out of a howse of roguery into a howse of +religion, from a stewes to a cloyster, from beastleness to blessednes +and from a sacrilegious place to a sanctuary? + +_Scrib_. Such was the grace heaven sent us, who from perill, +Danger of lyfe, the extreamest of all extreames +Hathe brought us to the happy patronage +Of this most reverent abbott. + +_Clowne_. What dangers? what extreames? + +_Scrib_. From the sea's fury, drowneing; for last night +Our shipp was splitt, wee cast upon these rocks. + +_Clowne_. Sayd in a jest, in deede! Shipwreck by land![86] I perceive +you tooke the woodden waggen for a ship and the violent rayne for the +sea, and by cause some one of the wheeles broake and you cast into some +water plashe, you thought the shipp had splitt and you had bene in +danger of drowneinge. + +_Scrib_. Are you then ignorant how, late in the even, +With purpose to make better sale of us +And to defraude thy maister, hee shipt us +With all the gold and jewels that hee had, +All which save wee are perisht? + +_Clowne_. But that caterpiller, that ould catamiting cankerworme, +what's become of him? + +_Scrib_. Dead I hope, with drinkinge of salte water. + +_Clowne_. I would all of his profession had pledged him the same +healthe. But how doth _Palestra_ take this? + +_Scrib_. Gladd to bee rid of such a slavery, +Yet sadly weepinge for her casket's losse, +That which included ample testimony +Bothe of her name and parents. + +_Clowne_. All her ill luck go with it![87]--Heere will be simple newes +to bringe to my mayster when hee hears shee hath bene shippwreckt! Il +make him beleeve I went a fishinge for her to sea and eather drewe her +ashore in my netts, or batinge my hooke strooke her and drewe her upp +by the gills with myne angle. Make you hast for I'l staye till you +come back. [_Exit_. + +_Scrib_. But this delaye had allmost putt me from +What I was sent about; yes this is the place. + [_Knocks_. + + _Enter Godfrey_. + +[_Godf_.] Whoes that that offers violens to these gates +That never yet offended? What want you? + +_Scrib_. That which the earthe +Dothe forebidd none, and freely yelds to all, +A little fayre springe water. + +_Godfr_.--One of those giurles +Beelyke this morninge shippwrackt and now scapt? +A dainty peece of maydes fleshe. Such sweete bitts +Are not heare often swallowed, and my mouth +Waters at this fine morsell. + +_Scrib_. Water, frend; +Tis that I crave for heaven's sake. + +_Godfr_. Wee have none +Of guift, unless you by't. + +_Scrib_. Will you sell that +The earthe affourds you gratis, and sett pryse +Of what a foe would yeeld an enemy? + +_Godfr_. Not, pretty lasse, so thou'lt afford mee that, +Freely and without bargen, which not only +One frend will to another but oft tymes +A stranger to a stranger. + +_Scrib_. What's that, prithee? + +_Godfr_. Only a kisse, sweete wensh. + +_Scrib_. Ye are too familiar, +I'l by none at that pryse: or fill my pale +Or I'l returne back empty. + +_Godfr_. Well for once +I will not greatly stand out, yet in hope, +That what att our fyrst meetinge you'l not grant +You'l not denye at partinge; reatch thy pale. + +_Scrib_. Quick as you love mee. + +_Godfr_. As you love mee! right: +Who[88] ever lov'd that lov'd not att fyrst sight? +The poet's excellent sayeinge. + [_Exit[89] to draw water_. + +_Scrib_. What shall I saye or howe shall I excuse +This my longe staye? but nowe I cast myne eyes +Backe on the roughe yet unappeased seas, +I quake to thinke upon our dangers past. +But see the fearefull object of a death +More menacinge and affrightfull, a sea monster +Cast from the deepes to swallow us ashore! +Malevolent fate and black desaster still +Pursues us to all places, but of all + _Enter Myldew and Sarlaboys to her_. +This, this the greatest, and to this one compard +All that are past but trifles. Oh that grand maister +Of mechall[90] lusts, that bulke of brothelree, +That stillary of all infectious sinnes, +Hath scapt the wrack, and with his fellowe guest +And partner in corruption makes this waye, +And with no tarde pace. Where shall I hyde mee! +Whether shall I fly to _Palestra_ back +And with this sadd relation kill her quite +That's scarce recovered! rather, you hy powers, +Then to prolonge our griefes, shorten our howers. + [_Exit_. + +_Godfr_. Where[91] is my daynty damosella? where? +Mee thought the water mett mee the half way +And lept up full three stepps to meete my pale. +This 'tis when as a man goes willingly +About his busines. Howe fresh a kisse will tast +From her whyte lipps! and every part besydes +From head to toe have bin so lately duckt +And rincht in the salt water. Wheres my sweete? +Not heare? no where? why, hoe, my whytinge mopp[92] +Late scapt from feedinge haddocks! ha, what, gone? +Nay then, go thou too that shee sent mee for, +To him that next shall find thee! yet not so: +This learned pale instructs mee by these letters +That it beelonges unto this monastery. +And iff it shoold be lost by my default +I may be chardged with theft or sacriledge. +No, I'l deliver it to the owners suer,[93] +And this the place. + + _Enter the Bawde Mildewe and Sarlaboyse_. + +_Mild_. Hee that woold stoody to bee miserable +Lett him forsake the land and putt to sea. +What widgeing,[94] that hath any voyce at all, +Would trust his safety to a rotten planke +That hath on earthe sounde footinge! + +_Sarlab_. None but madmen. + +_Mild_. Why thou of none, thrifty and well advised, +Stryvest thou to make mee such, where's now the gayne +And proffitt promist? the riche marchandyse +Of lust and whooringe? the greate usury +Got by the sale of wantons? these cursed jewelryes +With all the wealthe and treasure that I had,[95] +All perisht in one bottom, and all, all, +Through thy malicious counsell. + +_Sarlab_. Curse thy selfe. +The trusty bark, ore laden with thy sinnes, +Baudryes, grosse lyes, thy theft and perjuryes +Beesydes the burdene of thy ill gott gooddes, +Not able to indure so greate a weight +Was forct to sinke beneathe them.[96] + +_Mild_. Out, dogge! + +_Sarl_. Out, devill! + +_Mild_. By thee I am made nothinge. Oh my giurles +You sweete and never faylinge marchandyse, +Comodityes in all coasts, worthy coyne, +Christiane or heathen! by whom in distresses +I coold have raysed a fortune! more undoone +That I should loose you thus! + +_Sarl_. I knowe hee had rather +See halfe a hundred of them burnt[97] a land +Then one destroyde by water. But, oh _Neptune_, +I feare I have supt so much of thy salt brothe +Twill bringe mee to a feavour. + +_Mild_. Oh my _Palestra_ +And fayre _Scribonia_, weare but you too safe, +Yet som hope weare reserved me. + +_Sarl_. I praye, _Mildewe_, +When you so early to the bottom dyv'd, +For whom weare you a fishinge? + +_Mild_. Marry, for maydens; +Woold I knewe howe to catch them. But my gutts, +Howe they are sweld with sea brine! + +_Sarl_. Tis good phisick +To cure thee of the mangy. + +_Mild_. Wretched man! +That have no more left of a magazine +Then these wett cloathes upon mee, nay the woorst +Of all I had and purposely put on +Only to lyv a shipp-board. + +_Sarl_. Once to-day +Thou wert in wealthe above mee, nowe the seas have +Left us an equall portion. + +_Mild_. In all the wourld +I vowe I am not woorthe a lighted faggott +Or a poore pan of charcoale. + +_Sarl_. Justly punisht +Thou that hast all thy lyfe tyme dealt in fyre-woorks, +Stoves and hott bathes to sweet in, nowe to have +Thy teethe to falter in thy head for could +Nimbler then virginall Jacks.[98] + +_Mild_. Th'art a sweete guest. + +_Sarl_. Too good for such an host, better to have bin +Lodgd in som spittle; or, if possible, +To bee imprisoned in som surgeon's box +That smells of salves and plasters. + +_Mild_. Nowe what sharke +Or wyde-mouth'd whale shall swallowe upp my budgett, +May it at th'instant choake him! + +_Sarl_. Cursedly twas got, +And nowe thy curse goes with it. + +_Mild_. But those giurles! +Nought so much greives mee as to part with them +Before they lost theire maiden-headds. Had they lyvd +Till I had seen them women, and oth' trade, +My tast and care bestowed to bringe them upp +I should have thought well spent, which nowe with them +Is meerely cast away. + + _Enter Godfrey_. + +_Sarlab_. Peace now your pratinge and heare another spirit. + +_Godfr_.[99] The pale religious, which was the pledge +Of a kisse lascivious, I have given backe, +Ey, and to boote the water; but within +There's such a coyle betwixt the 2 young giurles +Such quakinge, shakinge, quiveringe, shiveringe +Such cryeinge, and such talk of flyinge, then of hyding, +And that there's no abydinge; one cryes out and calls, +The others redy to breake downe the walls; +Then weepinge they whisper together, +And saye they woold roone if they knew whither, +And are indeede putt to such strange affrights +That I was afrayde they weare hunted with sprights, +And therefore cam and left them: lass, poor giurles, +They are in piteous feare. + +_Mild_. Hee talkt of guerles: why may not these bee they, +Escapt as wee? staye, younge man, good frend, staye. + +_Godf_. Too ould drown'd ratts: I'l have som sport with them, +And though I pitty those I'l play with these. + +_Mild_. What gurles weare those thou spakest of? + +_Sarl_. Tell us fyrst +Where wee might finde som comfort. + +_Godf_. Lett us oh lett us bee advys'd +And living still to all men, +So though wee bee but midle sizd +Wee shalbe held no small men. + +_Mild_. Concerning these fayre damosels, speake of that. + +_Sarl_. Which now concernes us most, where may wee meete +With warmth, with foode, and shelter? + +_Godf_. Oh thou that dost demand of mee +Som fyre, som meate and harbor, +I see thou lately hast ben washt, +Hath _Neptune_ ben thy barbor? + +_Sarl_. This fellowe mearely flowtes our misery, +And laughs att our distresses. + +_Mild_. But, kind frende, +Concerninge these yonge women, are they fayre? + +_Godf_. Fayre flesh and cleane they bothe appeare +And not lyke gypsies umber'd. + +_Mild_. How many? + +_Godf_. Just as thou and I when wee are +Once but number'd. + +_Mild_. Oh, _Sarleboys_, there's comfort in these woords; +They have allredy warmed my hart within, +Why may not these bee they? + +_Sarl_. Bee they or not, +I had rather see one caudell downe my throate, +To wash downe this salt-water, than bee mayster +Of all the wenshes lyveinge. + +_Mild_. Oh where, where, +Where might I see too such? + +_Godf_. Thou that goest sydewayes lyke a crabb, gapst on mee + lyke an oyster, +Followe thy flat nose and smell them there, in th'out part of + this cloyster. + +_Mild_. Oh maye this peece of earthe proove happy to mee +As hath the sea bin fatall. + +_Sarl_. I'l followe and coold wish +Boath cloyster and whole villadge weare a fyre +Only to dry my clothes by. + +_Godf_. Marry hange you +You that so late scaped drowning for I take you +For too pestiferous rascalls. + + _Exeunt_. + +Explicit Actus 2. + + + + +_Act 3_. + +SCENE 1. + + + _Enter the Lady de Averne with a letter in her hand + readinge, and with her mayde_. + +_Lady_. And howe came you by this? + +_Mayde_. Followinge you to th'chappell +And I protest not thinking anythinge, +Fryar _Jhon_ o'th suddeine pluckt mee by the sleeve +And whisperd in myne eare to give that to you, +But privatly, bycause it was a thinge +Only toweard your person. + +_Lady_. Twas well doonne; +But prithee do no more so, for this tyme +Tak't for a warninge. + +_Mayde_. Madam I am skool'd. + +_Lady_. Doo so, or ever loose me. Heeres[100] sweet stuffe! +Can this be in a vowed monastick lyfe +Or to be fownd in churchmen? 'tis a question +Whether to smyle or vex, to laughe or storme, +Bycause in this I finde the cause of boathe. +What might this sawcy fellowe spy in mee +To incorradge such a boldnes? yes this letter +Instructs mee what: he seythe my affability +And modest smiles, still gracinge his salutes, +Moovd him to wryte. Oh what a chary care then +Had womene neede have boathe of lipps and eyes +When every fayre woord's censur'd liberty, +And every kind looke meere licensiousnes! +I have bin hitherto so greate a stranger +To these unus'd temptations that in truthe +I knowe not howe to take this. Sylly fryar! +Madnes or folly, one of these't must bee. +If th'one I pity, at the other laughe, +And so no more reguard it. + +_Maid_. Madam, if ought bee in that letter ill, +Mee thinks 'tis good [that] you can tak't so well. + +_Lady_. Peace you; a braineles weake, besotted fellowe! +But lett mee better recollect myself. +Madnes nor folly, and add lust to them, +Durst not in fury, heate, or Ignorans, +Have tempted my unquestioned chastity +Without a fowrth abetter, jealousy. +The more I ponder that, I more suspect +By that my Lord should have a hand in this, +And,[101] knowinge there's such difference in our yeares, +To proove my feythe might putt this triall on mee. +Else how durst such a poore penurious fryar +Oppose such an unheard of Impudens +Gaynst my incensed fury and revendge? +My best is therefore, as I am innocent, +To stooddy myne owne safety, showe this letter, +Which one [?] my charity woold have conceiled, +And rather give him upp a sacrifice +To my lord's just incensement then indanger +Myne owne unblemisht truthe and loyalty +By incurringe his displeasure; heare hee coms. + + _Enter the Lord de Averne with som followers; + his man Denis_ + +_L. Averne_. Howe, Lady? reading? + +_Lady_. Yes, a letter, sir. + +_L. Averne_. Imparts it any newes? + +_Lady_. Yes, syr, strange newes, +And scarce to bee beleaved. + +_Lord Av_. Forreyne. + +_Lady_. Nay, domestick, +Tis howsehould busines all. + +_Lord Av_. May I impart it? + +_Lady_. Oh, syr, in any case, +As one it most concernes; but I intreate you, +Reade it with patiens; the simplicity +Of him that writte it will afford you mirthe, +Or else his mallice spleane.--Nowe by his temper +And change of countenance I shall easily find +Whose hand was cheife in this. + +_Lord Av_. All leave the place. + +_Denis_. We shall, syr. + +_Lord Av_. Possible +That this shoold bee in man, nay in man vowed +Unto a strickt abstemious chastity! +From my owne creature and from one I feede, +Nay from a place built in my holiest vowes, +Establisht in my purpose in my lyfe, +Maintayn'd from my revenue, after death +Firm'd and assur'd to all posterityes-- +That that shoold breede such vipers! + +_Lady_. Patiens, syr; the fellowe suer is madd. + +_Lord Av_. I can be madd as hee too and I will. +Thus to abuse my goodnes! in a deede +Som woold hold meritorious, att the least +Intended for an act of piety, +To suffer in my zeale! nay to bee mockt +In my devotion, by these empty drones +That feede upon the honey of my hyve! +To invert my good intentements, turne this nest + [_Ink: paper ready_. +I built for prayer unto a bedd of sinnes! +Which thus I'l punish; this religious place, +Once vowed to sanctity, I'l undermyne +And in one instant blowe the structure upp +With all th'unhallowed covent. + +_Lady_. Praye, no extreames: +Where one offends shall for his heighnous fact +So many suffer? there's no justyce in't. + +_Lord Av_. Som justyce I would showe them heare on earthe +Before they finde it multiplyed in heaven. + +_Lady_. For my sake, syr, do not for one man's error +Destroy a woorke of perpetuity, +By which your name shall lyve. One man offends; +Lett the delinquent suffer. + +_Lord Av_. So't shallbe, +And thou hast well advysed. Som pen and Inke theire! + +_Lady_. What purpose you? + +_Lord Av_. That's soly to my selfe +And in my fyxt thoughts stands irreproovable. + + _Enter Dennis with pen, inke, and paper_. + +Syr, heares pen inke and paper. + +_Lord Av_. To his letter +My self will give him answer. (_writes_) + +_Denis_. Suer all's not well that on the suddane thus +My lord is so distempered. + +_Lady_. I have, I feare, +Styr'd such a heate, that nought save blood will quensh: +But wish my teares might doo't; hee's full of storme, +And that in him will not bee easily calmd. +His rage and troble both pronounce him guiltles +Of this attempt, which makes mee rather doubt +Hee may proove too seveare in his revendge, +Which I with all indevour will prevent +Yet to the most censorious I appeale, +What coold I lesse have doone to save myne honor +From suffringe beneathe skandall? + +_Lord Av_. See, heare's all: +'Tis short and sweete, wryte this in your own hand +Without exchange of the least sillable. +Insert in copiinge no suspitious dash, +No doubtfull comma; then subscribe your name, +Seal't then with your own signet and dispatche it +As I will have dyrected; doo't, I charge you, +Without the least demurre or fallacy. +By dooinge this you shall prevent distrust +Or future breach beetwixt us; you shall further +Expresse a just obediens. + +_Lady_. Syr, I shall, +What ere your concealed purpose bee, I shall. + +_Lord Av_. Provyde mee horses, I will ryde. + +_Denis_. When, syr? + +_Lord Av_. Instantly, after dinner, and gie't out +I am not to returne till three dayes hence, +So spreade it throughe the howse. + +_Denis_. What followers, Syr, +Meane you to take alonge? + +_Lord Av_. Thyself, no more, +For 'tis a private busines, and withall; +Provyde mee,--harke thyne eare. + +_Denis_. A stronge one, Syrr. + +_Lord Av_. One that will howld; withall give pryvate order +At night the guarden gates may bee left open, +By whiche wee may returne unknowne to any. +What I intend lyes heare. + +_Denis_. All wee servants +Are bownd to doo, but not examine what; +That's out of our comission. + +_Lord Av_. 'Twixt us too +I shall resolve thee further. + +_Denis_. I am gone, Syr. + +_Lord Av_. Nowe, sweete ladye, have you doon? + +_Lady_. As you commanded. + +_Lord Av_. Itt wants nothinge nowe +But seale and superscription; I'l see't doone. +And marke mee nowe; at evensonge, passinge through +The cloyster to the chappell, when the fryar +Amongst the rest bowes with his wonted duckes, +Add rather then deminish from your smiles +And wonted favours. Let this shee post then +Conveigh this letter to the fryar's close fist, +Who no dowbt gapes for answer. + +_Lady_. All shall bee +As you instructe; but punishe, syr, with pitty; +Putt him to payne or shame, but deathe, alas, +Is too seveare. + +_Lord Av_. Tush, wyfe, feare not; think'st thou Ile +quale[102] a churchman? + [_Exeunt_. + + + +SCENE 2. + + + _Enter after a great noyse within, the Clowne, + meetinge with Ashburne and Godfrey_. + +_Clowne_. If this villadge bee inhabited with men as this place within +is with monsters; if with men that have eyes and can distinguishe bewty, +or that have hartes and therfore saver of pitty; if you bee fathers and +know what belonges to children, or christians and therefore what is ment +by charity; if husbandmen and have hope of your harvest, or marchants of +your trade's increase; if fishermen that would thryve by your labours, +or any of all these that would be knowne by your honesty-- + +_Ashburne_. Many of those thou namest have place in us, +Great'st part if not all. + +_Clowne_. Then lend your helpeinge hands to succor, releive, defend, +deliver, save, serve, patronadge, abett and mynteyn-- + +_Ashb_. Whom, what? + +_Clowne_. Bewty, vertue, purity, syncerity, softnes, sweetenes, +innocens, and chastity. + +_Ashb_. Gainst what? gainst whome? + +_Cl_. Oppression, frawde, rudenes, reproch, synn, shame, debate, +discourse, theft, rapine, contempt of religion and breach of sanctury, +against a magazine of misdemeanors and a whole monopoly of mischeif. + +_Godf_. I knowe the busines, syr, if in that place +These are the too distressed wrecks at sea +We sawe this morninge floatinge, sweeter guerles +I never yet sett ey on, and opprest +By too ill lookeinge raskells that to warme them +Wisht all the towne a bonefire-- + +_Ashb_. Miscreant slaves! +For one younge damsell's sake I once cald daughter, +And in the absens of there greater frends, +I'l stand betwixt them and these injuryes. + +_Clowne_. These are they after whome I have been seeking, and my mayster +was enquiringe. If you will but secure them heare in the villadge whilst +I carry woord to my mayster in the citty, you shall doo me a curtesye +and him a most noble offyce.[103] + +_Ashb_. It was no more then promisse, and I shoold +Fayle in my goodnes not to see that doone. +Post to thy mayster, bid him meete us heare: +Mean tyme my menn shall rayse the villagers +Boathe in the reskewe of these innocent maydes +And in defens of holly priveledge. + +_Clowne_. I fly lyke the winds. + +_Godf_. And I'l go call the pesants +To rayse another tempest. + + [_Exeunt[104] Clown and Godfrey_. + +_Ashb_. Hasten boathe +And till ayde com I'l laye myne eare and listen +To heare what further coyle is kept within: +All's silent on the sudden. + _Musick_. + + [_Song within_.] + +(1) Helpe, Helpe, oh ayde a wretched mayde + or els we are undoon then. + +(2) And have I caught, and have I caught you? + in vayne it is to roonne then. + +(1) Som reskewe then[105] from gods or men + redeeme us from these crosses! + +(2) Tis all in vayne, since nowe I gaine + part of my former losses. + +(1) Oh heaven, defend! what, yet no end + of these our strange desasters? + +(2) No favour's knowne, no pittye's showne + to them that fly there maysters. + +(1) Why to defame, reproch, and shame + poor innocents thus dragge yee? + +(2) With[106] your offens there's no dispence: + away then! wherefore lagge yee? + + _A tumult within and sudden noyse. Enter at one doore + Godfrey with country fellowes for there reskewe, at the + other Mildewe, Sarlaboys, Palestra, Scribonia_. + +_Palest_. Where, in what place shall wee bestowe our selfes +From this injust man's fury? + +_Scrib_. If compeld +And dragg'd from sanctuary by prophane hands, +Where shall we flye to safety? + +_Ashb_. Wheither, if +Not unto us? wee often see the gods +Give and bequeathe there justyce unto men, +Which wee as fythefully [_sic_] will see performed. + +_All_. Downe with these saucy companyons! + +_Godf_. Downe with these sacraligious silsepaereales [?], these +unsanctified _Sarlaboyses_ that woold make a very seralia of the +sanctuary, and are meare renegadoes to all religion! + +_Mild_. Stay, hold, are you bandetty? rovers, theives, +And wayte you heare to robb and pilladge us +The sea so late hathe ryfled? these are myne, +My chattells and my goodes, nor can you cease them +As wrecks; I appeale unto the admirall. + +_Ash_. His power I in his absens will supply, +And cease yee all as forfett; these as goodds +You as superfluous ladinge, till that coort +Shall compremise betwixt us. + +_Mild_. I'the meanetyme +Lett mee possesse myne owne; these are my slaves +My utensills, my mooveables, and bought +With myne owne private coyne. + +_Sarl_. To which I am witnes. + +_Mild_. And by the heyre I'l dragge them as myne owne, +Wear't from the holly alter. + +_Pal_. Succor! + +_Scrib_. Helpe! + +_Ashb_. Are they not Christians? + +_Mild_. Yes. + +_Ash_. What nation? + +_Mild_. _Englishe_. + +_Ashb_. In myne owne country borne and shall not I +Stand as theire champion then? I tell thee, pesant, +_England_'s, no broode for slaves. + +_Pal_. Oh Syr to you +Wee fly as to a father. + +_Ashb_. And I'l guard you +As weare you myne owne children. + +_Mild_. Gainst there lord, +Owner and mayster? + +_Ashb_. None is lordd with us +But such as are freeborne; our Christian lawes +Do not allowe such to bee bought or sould +For any Bawde or pander to hyre such +To comon prostitution. Heere they stand: +Tutch but a garment, nay a heyre of theres +With thy least finger, thy bald head I'l sinke +Belowe thy gowtye foote. + +_Mild_. I am opprest, +Is theire no lawe in _France_? + +_Ashb_. Yes, Syr, to punish +These chastityes seducers. + +_Mild_. Give me fyar, +I will not leive of all this monastery +Of you or these, of what's combustible, +Naye of my self, one moiety unconsumed. + +_Godf_. His frend before him wisht the towne a fyre, +Now hee would burne the cloyster: too arch-pillers![107] + +_Ashb_. And lyke such +Our purpose is to use them. Dare not, miscreant, +But to give these a menace whom thou calst thyne, +No not by beck or nod; if thou but styer [stir] +To doo unto this howse of sanctity +Damadge or outrage, I will lay thee prostrate +Beneathe these staves and halberts. + +_Mild_. Is this lawe? + +_Godf_. Yes _Staffords_[108] lawe. + +_Ashb_. Naye, feare not, pretty guerles; +The fryars them selfs, weare they not at theire prayers +Wold have doon more than this in just defens +Of theire immunityes; but in theire absens +I stand for them, nor shall you part from hence +Or dare to sqeelche till they themselves be judge. +Of injurye doone to this sacred place, +Or such as I have sent for make appearance +To clayme what thou unjustly calst thyne owne. + +_Godf_. Nay, thou shall stand; wee have too stringes to our Bow. + +_Ashb_. If hee but styer then stryke. + +_Mild_. This _Stafford_ law, +Which I till nowe heard never nam'd in _France_, +Is for the present a more fearefull coort +Then chancery or star-chamber. I want motion; +You have made [me] a statue, a meere Imadge. + +_Godf_.[109] Styer and thou diest: weele maule you. + +_Mild_. Iff heare I can have none, lett me depart +To seake elcewhere for justyce. + +_Sarl_. Keepe him prisoner, +And sett mee free to finde some advocate +To pleade in his just cause. + +_Godf_. Neather styrre +In payne of too _Frensh_ crownes, and they so crack[t] +Never more to passe for currant. + +_Ashb_. That presume. + +_Mild_. Misery of miseryes! I am bound hand and foote, +And yet boath legges and armes at liberty. + +_Godf_. Yes by the lawe cald _Stafforde_. + + _Enter Mr. Raphael, Mr. Treadway and the Clowne_. + +_Raph_. Durst then the slave use my _Palestra_ thus, +And dragge her by the heyre from sanctuary? + +_Clowne_. Most trew, Syr. + +_Raph_. Why did'st not kill him? + +_Clowne_. If I had had but a swoard I had doon't, but I sought the +villadge through and cold find neare a cutter. + +_Raph_. Weare there no skattered stones lye in the streete +To have beate his breynes out? + +_Clowne_. Not a stone to throwe att a dogg. + +_Raph_. Had'st thou not heeles + +_Clowne_. Yes to have kickt him lyke a dogge, but I reserved them to +roon the more nimbly about your busines. + +_Pal_. I nowe spye a newe sanctuary, his armes, +In which I may pursue security. +My _Raphael_! + +_Raph_. My _Palestra_, art thou safe? +Beefore I give due thankes to this good man, +Which tyme shall paye in all pluralityes, +Oh shewe mee but that monster of mankind +And shame of men on whom to bee revendgd! + +_Mild_. The storme at sea was not more terrible +Then this the land now threatens; againe undoone, +Over and over wretched! + +_Clowne_. See the limbe +Of his ould syre the Devill. + +_Raph_. Perjured slave! +Perfidious, but that I abhore to take +The hangman's office from him, this should open +A doore by which thy black soule should fly out +Unto assured damnation. + +_Tread_. Bee more patient; +Proceede with him after a legal course, +And bee not sweyde by fury. + +_Raph_. Well advys'd: +What can thy false toonge pleide in thy excuse, +Thou volume of all vyces? + +_Mild_. Why, what not? + +_Raph_. Is thy hart sear'd, thy browe made impudent, +And all thy malefactions crownd[110] with lyes +Against just testates and apparent truthes? +When I had payde full ransom for this pryze, +Why didst thou beare her hence? + +_Mild_. I did not doo't,-- +These bee my witnes; have I borne her hence +When I have brought her to thee? + +_Raph_. Thy bawdes rhethorick +Shall not excuse thee thus. Frends guarde him safe. + +_Clowne_. We will see his fooles coate guarded,[111] ey and reguarded +too from slipping out of our fingers. + +_Godf_.[112] Weel finde amongst us more then ... him; fower elbowes +elbowe him off all sydes, gentlemen. It shall appeare beefore hee parts +with us that hee hathe shewed him self no better then a coxcomb. + +_Tread_. Beleeve mee nowe, I do not blame my frende +To fishe in trobled streames for such a pearle, +Or digge in black mowled for so ritch a myne; +But to redeeme a chast and inocent sowle +Forthe from the fierye jawes of lust and hell, +Exprest a most comended charitye. +What second bewtyes that ... frend, +That tremblinge flyes from his infectious ills +To patronise her youth and inocence +Beneathe that goode man's goodnes-- + +_Raph_. Alyke suffers +With her in all distresses, lyke in years, +In vertue, no way differing of our nation; +Who knowes but neare all yee too? + +_Tread_. I feele somthinge +Growinge on mee, I know not howe to style, +Pitty or love, synce it hath tast of boathe. +And sinne itt weare such parity in all thinges, +Age, mindes, wrecks, bondadge, pursiutes, injuryes +Shoold nowe bee separate; the one be freede +The t'other left in durance, for the want +And pious tender of so smalle a somme. +I somwhat have in purpose. + +_Raph_. Dragge them boathe +Before the magistrate. + +_Sarlab_. Mee? wherefore? why? + +_Godf_. As his abettor and ill counseller: +One would have burnt the villadge, and the other +Threatned to fyar the cloyster. + +_Raph_. Boathe acts capitall +And worthy seveare censure. + +_Mild_. Though thou pleedst interest +In waye of earnest in _Palestra_, yet +Robb mee not quite, give me the tother backe, +My only portion left me by the sea +And stock to sett upp trade by. + +_Scrib_. Rather torture mee +With any violent deathe. + +_Tread_. Leive them in trust +And chardge of this grave reverent gentleman, +Untill you heire the sentence of the coort. + +_Ashb_. I willingly accept theire patronadge: +Heere att my howse they shall have meate and harbour. + +_Raph_. Nobly spoke: +Meane tyme hale these to'th coort. + +_Mild_. My _Palestra_, +What? not one woord of pitye? + +_Raph_. Stopp his mouthe. + +_Mild_. My _Scribonia_, +Wilt thou intreate them neather? + +_Tread_. Tyme's but trifled; +Away with them to justyce! + +_Mild_. Take my skinne then, +Synce nothinge else is left mee. + +_Clown_. That's rotten allredy and will neather +make goodd leather nor parchement ... theire. + + [_Exeunt_. + +_Ashb_. Com, damsalls, followe mee where I shall leade: +I have a cross wyfe at home I tell you that, +But one that I presume will not bee jealous +Of too such harmeles sowles. + +_Pal_. You are to us +A patron and defender. + +_Scrib_. Bounde unto you +Not as an host but father. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +SCENA 3. + + + _Enter the Lord de Averne, his Lady, + Dennis and the waytinge mayde_. + +_Lord Av_. Are all thinges redye as I gave in chardge? + +_Denys_. Redy, syr. + +_Lord Av_. Inoughe; and you deliver'd it +To his owne hands? + +_Mayde_. I did. + +_Lord Av_. Howe did hee tak't? + +_Mayde_. With smiles and seeminge joy. + +_Lord Av_. Sorrowe and shame +I feare will bee the sadd end on't. + +_Lady Av_. Syr, you'r troubled. + +_Lord Av_. I would not have you so; pray, to your rest; +You shall remove mee from all jelosyes +If you betake you to your sowndest sleeps, +And without more inquiry. + +_Lady Av_. Syr, remember +That all offences are not woorthy deathe: +Fellowny, murder, treason and such lyke +Of that grosse nature maye be capitall; +Not folly, error, trespasse. + +_Lord Av_. You advyse well, +Lett mee advyse you lyke-wyse: instantly +Retyre in to your chamber, without noyse +Reply or question, least part of that rage +Is bent gainst him you turne upon your self, +Which is not for your safety. + +_Lady Av_. Syr, good night. [_Exit_.[113] + +_Lord Av_. How goes the hower? + +_Denis_. Tis almost tenn. + +_Lord Av_. The tyme of our appointment: you attend +Upon his knocks and give him free admittans; +Beinge entred, refer him into this place; +That doon, returne then to your Ladye's chamber +There locke your self fast in. + +_Mayde_. My lorde, I shall.-- +Poore fryare, I feare theyl put thee to thy penance +Before they have confest thee. + +_Lord Av_. Come, withdrawe; +The watchwoordes not yet given. + + _Enter the Fryar with a letter_. + +_Fr. Jhon_. 'Tis her owne pen, I knwe it, synce shee sett +Her hand to establishe our foundation, +And, sweete soule, shee hath writt a second tyme +To build mee upp anewe:--_My Lord is ridd +A three dayes jorney, loose not this advantadge +But take tyme by the fore-topp_. Yes I will +By the fore-topp and topp-gallant. _At the posterne +Shee to whose hand you gave your letter, Fryar, +Attends for your despatch_:--my busines +I hope shalbee despatcht then:--_Fare you well, +Fayle mee this night and ever_. I'l sooner forfett +All pleasures, hopes, preferments, with th'assurance +Of a longe lyfe blest with most happy howers, +Then this one night's contentment. + +_Mayde_. Ha, who's theire? +Fryar _Jhon_? + +_Fr. Jhon_. The same: you, mystresse _Millisent_ +My Ladye's gentlewoman? + +_Mayde_. I am the closett +That treasures all her counsells. + +_Fr. Jhon_. Is all cleare? + +_Mayde_. As such a dark night can bee--to one, I feare, +That scarce will looke on daye more. + +_Fr. Jhon_. Where's my lady? + +_Mayde_. Attends you in her chamber. + +_Fr. Jhon_. Guide mee too't, +Nay, quickly guerle:--how I allredy surfett +In this nights expectation! + +_Mayde_. Staye you heare +In this withdraweinge roome, I'l fetch a light +For safeguard of your shinnes. + +_Denis_. Shee might have sayde +For safeguard of his necke. + +_Mayde_. My sceane's doone; +The next act lyes amongst them. [_Exit_.[114] + +_Fr. Jhon_. My part dothe but beginne nowe and I'l act it +In exquisite cleane linnen; and this capp +Proffred of purpose, least I should smell fryar. +What differ wee i'th darke, save our shaven crowne, +From gentlemen, nay Lords? nature hath araied us +As well as the best layemen: why should lawe +Restreyne from us what is allowed to them? +Lett it curbe fooles and idiots, such as throughe folly +Will not, or nycenes dare not, tast what's sweete, +Alyke made for all pallats. + +_Lord Av_. Howe the slave +Insults in his damnation! cease the wretch, +I can indure no lonnger. + +_Fr. Jhon_. Such as ban +Proffred delights may, if they please, refuse; +What's borne with mee I will make bold to use. + +_Lord Av_. And I what thou weart borne too, that's a halter. +Pull without feare or mercy, strangle him +With all his sinnes about him; t'were not else +A revendge worthe my fury. + + [_Fry: strangled_. + +_Dennis_. I dare nowe +Lodge him a whole night by my syster's syde, +Hee's nowe past strompetting. + +_Lord Av_. Tis night with him, +A longe and lastinge night. + +_Denis_. Hee lyes as quiet. +You did well, Fryare, to putt on your cleane linnen; +Twill serve you as a shrowde for a new grave. +Whither shall wee lyft his body? + +_Lord Av_. I am on the suddeine +Growne full of thoughts; the horror of the fact +Breedes strange seditions in mee. + +_Denis_. Hee perhapps +But counterfetts dead sleep. I'l hollowe to him +To see if I can wake him. + +_Lord Av_. Trifle not; +The sinne will proove more serious. To a conscience +Startled with blood and murder, what a terror +Is in the deede, being doone, which bredd before +Boathe a delight and longing! This sadd spectacle +Howe itt affrights mee! + +_Denis_. Letts remove itt then. + +_Lord Av_. The sinne it self, the churches malediction, +As doone to one of a sequestred lyfe +And holly order, the lawes penalty, +Being duble forfeture of lyfe and state, +Reproach, shame, infamy, all these incur'd +Through my inconsiderate rashnes! + +_Denis_. My lyfe, too. +Howe to prevent the danger of all these? + +_Lord Av_. Ey, that will aske much breyne, much project. + +_Denis_. Sir, +Shall we poppe him in som privy? + +_Lord Av_. Duble injurye, +To praye upon the soule and after deathe +Doo to the body such discoortesy; +It neather savours of a generous spyritt +Nor that which wee call manly. + +_Denis_. Anythinge +For a quiett lyfe,[115] but this same wryneckt deathe, +That which still spoyles all drinkinge, 'tis a thinge +I never coold indure; as you are noble +Keepe still my wind pype open. + +_Lord Av_. Out of many +Museings[116] for boath our safetyes I have fownd +One that's above the rest most probable. + +_Denis_. What, what, I praye, Syr? + +_Lord Av_. Interupt mee not: +Staye I should nowe begett a stratagem +To save myne owne lyfe, myne estate and goodds, +Ey, and secure thee too. + +_Denis_. 'Twere excellent, Syr. + +_Lord Av_. I have project for all these, as willingly +To lengthen boathe our lyves, and limitt us +Tyme to repent his deathe. + +_Denis_. But howe, I praye, Syr? + +_Lord Av_. Ey, there's the difficulty; but nowe I hav't. +Betwixt us and the cloyster's but one wall, +And that of no greate height; coold wee in private +Conveighe this fryar into the monastery, +It might be then imadgind som of them +Might bee his deathe's-man; which might seeme more probable +Bycause, as I had late intelligens, +There hathe bin stryfe amongst them. + +_Denis_. Better still. + +_Lord Av_. Now howe can wee incurr the least suspect? +For what should hee doo from the fryary, +Or what seeke heere att this unseasoned hower? + +_Denis_. I apprehende thee; and, to further this, +In the backe yard there is a ladder, Syr: +Mount him upon my back, and I'l conveighe him +Where som, not wee, shall answer for his death. + +_Lord Av_. As desperate wounds still must have desperate cure, +So all rash mischeiffes shuld have suddeine shiftes. +Wee'I putt it to ye venter. + +_Denis_. Mount him then; +I'l once trye if the ventur of a ladder +Can keepe mee from the halter. + + [_Exeunt_.[117] + +Explicit Actus 3. + + + + +_Actus 4_. + +SCENA PRIMA. + + + _Enter the Clowne_. + +_Clowne_. I have left a full coort behynde mee, _Mildewe_ pleidinge of +the one syde, my mayster on the other, and the lawyers fendinge and +prooveinge on boathe; there's such yeallinge and ballinge, I know not +whether it made any deafe to heare it, but I am suer I was almost sicke +to see't. Whyle they are brablinge in the cittye I am sent backe to the +villadge to cheire up the too younge mermaydes; for synce theire +throates have bin rincht with salt water they singe with no lesse +sweatenes. But staye; I spy a fisherman drawinge his nett upp to the +shore; I'l slacke som of my speede to see how hee hathe spedd since the +last tempest. + + _Enter the Fisherman_. + +_Fisher_. I see hee that nought venters nothinge gaynes; +Hee that will bee awake when others sleepe +May sometymes purchase what may give him rest, +When other loyterers shalbe forct to ryse +Or perish through meare want; as, for example, +Although the tempest frighted hence the fishe, +I have drag'd some thinge without finne or skale +May make mee a good markett. Lett mee better +Surveigh my pryze; 'tis of good weight I feele; +Now should it bee some treasure I weare mayde. + +_Clowne_. Which if it proove I'l half marr you or be half made with you. + +_Fisher_. It must be gold by th'weight. + +_Clowne_. If it bee so heavy 'tis ten to one but I'l do you the curtesye +to ease you of part of your burden. + +_Fisher_. None save myself is guilty of this pryze; +'Tis all myne owne, and I'l bee thinke mee best +Howe to beestowe of this ritche magazin. + +_Clowne_. And I am stooddiinge too with what lyne, what angle, what +fisguigge[118] what castinge nett I cann share with you in this sea +booty. + +_Fisher_. I will dissemble, as most ritche men doo, +Pleade poverty and speake my mayster fayre; +By out my freedom for som little somme, +And, beeinge myne owne man, by lands and howses; +That doon, to sea I'l rigge shipps of myne owne, +And synce the sea hathe made mee upp a stocke +I'l venter it to sea; who knowes but I +In tyme may prove a noble marchant? + +_Clowne_. Yes of eele skinnes.--Staye you, Syrra, ho! + +_Fisher_. I knowe no fish of that name; limpet, mullet, conger, dolphin, +sharke I knowe, and place; I woold som body else had thyne; for hearinge +I woold thou hadst none, nor codd; for smelt thou art too hott in my +nose allredy; but such a fishe cald Syrra never came within the compasse +of my nett. What art thou, a shrimpe, a dogg fish or a poore Jhon?[119] + +_Clowne_.[120] I am one that watcht the tyde to know what thou hast +caught, and have mony in my pockett to by thy draught. + +_Fisher_. And I am one thou seest that have only an empty wett nett, +but not so much as the tale of a spratte at thys tyme to sell for love +of mony. + +_Clowne_. I grant this is no Fryday and I at this tyme no cater for the +fishmarkett. I only cam to desyre thy judgement and counsell. + +_Fisher_. Go to the bench for judgment and to the lawe courts for +counsell, I am free of neather, only one of _Neptunes_ poore bastards, +a spawne of the sea, and nowe gladly desyres to be rydd of thee aland. + +_Clowne_. Onely one question resolve mee, and I have doone. + +_Fisher_. To bee well ridd of the I care not if I loose so much tyme. + +_Clowne_. But feythefully. + +_Fisher_. As I am honest peeterman.[121] + +_Clowne_. Observe mee then: +I saw a theif, comitting fellony; +I know the mayster of the thing was stolne, +I com unto this theif, as't might bee thee, +And make this covenant; eather give mee half +And make mee sharer or thou forfettest all, +I'l peach thee to the owner; in this case +What may I justly claime? + +_Fisher_. Rather than forfeit all I shoold yeild halfe. + +_Clowne_. Knwe then 'tis thy case, and my case a most playne case, and +concernes the booty in that cap-case.[122] I knowe the lord that wants +it and the mayster that owes[123] it; boath howe it was lost and where +it was lost. Com, unloose, unbuckle, unclaspe, uncase, lett's see then +what fortune hathe sente us, and so part it equally beetwixt us. + +_Fisher_. Staye, staye, my frend this my case must not be opend till +your case bee better lookt into. Thou knowest who lost it, I who fownd +it; thou the lord of it that was, I the owner that nowe is; thou who +did possess it, I who doth injoye it; hee had it, I have it; hee might +have kept it, I will keepe it; I venter'd for all, I will inherit all; +and theres thy pittifull case layde open. + +_Clowne_. First proove this to bee thyne. + +_Fisher_. I can and by the fisherman's rethorick. + +_Clowne_. Proceed sea-gull. + +_Fisher_. Thus land-spaniell; no man can say this is my fishe till hee +finde it in his nett. + +_Clowne_. Good. + +_Fisher_. What I catche is myne owne, my lands my goodds my copy-hold, +my fee-simple, myne to sell, myne to give, myne to lend, and myne to +cast away; no man claimes part, no man share, synce fishinge is free +and the sea common. + +_Clowne_.[124] If all bee common that the sea yeelds why then is not +that as much mine as thyne? + +_Fisher_. By that lawe, when wee bringe our fishe to the markett, if +every one may freely chuse what hee lykes and take where hee lyst, wee +shoold have quikly empty dorsers[125] and cleane stalls, but light +purses. + +_Clowne_. How can'st thou proove that to bee a fishe that was not bredd +in the water, that coold never swimme, that hathe neather roe nor milt, +scale nor finne, lyfe nor motion? Did ever man heare of a fishe cald a +budgett? What shape, what collor? + +_Fisher_. This shape, this collor, there's nowe within better then the +spawne of sturgeon; I must confesse indeed, they are rarely seene, and +seldom fownd; for this is the fyrst I ever catcht in all the tyme of my +fishinge. + +_Clowne_. All this sea-sophestry will not serve your turne, for where +my right is deteind mee by fayre meanes I will have it by force. + +_Fisher_. Of what I caught in the sea? + +_Clowne_. Yes, and what I catch hold on ashore. With what consciens +can'st thou denye mee part of the gaine, when the owner heareinge it is +in thy custody and within my knowledge, must eather find mee a principall +in the theft, or at least accessary to the fellony. + +_Fisher_. I'l showe thee a redy waye to prevent boathe. + +_Clowne_. How's that? + +_Fisher_. Marry, thus: go thou quietly thy way, I'l go peacably myne; +betraye thou mee to nobody, as I meane to impart to thee nothinge; +seeke thy preferment by land as I have doone myne by sea; bee thou mute, +I'l be dumbe; thou silent, I mumbudgett; thou dismisse mee, I'l acquitte +thee; so thou art neather theife nor accessary. + +_Clowne_. Syrrah, though you bee owner of the boate I'l steare my course +at healme. + +_Fisher_. Hands off, I saye. But hark a noyse within +Letts cease our controversy till wee see [_Noyse_. +An end of that. + +_Clowne_. Trew, and bee judg'd by the next quiet man wee meete. + +_Fisher_. Content. + + _Enter after a noyse or tumult, Ashburne, his wyfe, + Palestra, Scribonia and Godfrey_. + +_Woman_. I'l not beleeve a sillable thou speak'st; +False harts and false toonges go together still, +They boathe are quick in thee. + +_Ashb_. Have patience woman. + +_Woman_. I have ben too longe a grizell. Not content +To have thy hawnts abroad, where there are marts +And places of lewd brothelry inoughe +Wheare thou maiest wast thy body, purse and creditt, +But thou wooldst make thy private howse a stewes! + +_Ashb_. But heare me, wyfe. + +_Wom_. I'l heare none but myselfe. +Are your legges growne so feeble on the suddeine +They feyle when you shoold travell to your whores, +But you must bringe them home and keepe them heere +Under my nose? I am not so past my sences +But at this age can smell your knavery. + +_Pal_. Good woman, heare's none suche. + +_Woman_. Bold baggadge, peace! +'Tis not your turne to prate yet; lust and impudens +I know still goe togeather.[126] Shewes it well +In one thats of thy yeares and gravity, +That ought to bee in lyfe and government +To others an example, nowe to doate +So neere the grave! to walke before his dooer +With a younge payer of strumpetts at his tale! +Naye, make his honest and chast wyfe no better +Then a madam makarell![127] + +_Godfr_. Why, this stormes woorse then that until'd the howse! + +_Ashb_. But understand mee: +Itt is meare pitty and no bad intent, +No unchast thought but my meare charity +In the remembrans of our longe lost child, +To showe som love to these distressed maydens. + +_Woman_. Sweete charity! nay, usury withall! +For one chyld lost, whose goodnes might have blest +And bin an honor to our family, +To bringe mee home a cuple of loose thinges! +I know not what to terme them, but for thee, +Owld fornicator, that jad'st mee at home +And yet can fend [?] a yonge colt's toothe abroad, +Ould as I am myne eyes are not so dimme +But can discerne this without spectacles. +Hence from my gate, you syrens com from sea, +Or as I lyve I'l washe your painteinges off +And with hotte skaldeinge water instantly. + [_Exit_. + +_Godfr_. Nay then, sweeteharts, you canott staye, you have had could +interteinment. + +_Pal_. The land's to us as dreadfull as the seas, +For wee are heare, as by the billows, tost +From one feare to another. + +_Ashb_. Pretty sowles, +Despyer not you of comfort; I'l not leive you +To the least danger till som newes returne +From him that undertakes your patronadge. +You, syrrah, usher them into the fryary, +Whence none dares force them. I have a cross wyfe you see, +And better you then I take sanctuary. + +_Scrib_. Wee will be sweyde by you as one in whome +Wee yet have fownd all goodnes. + +_Ashb_. Leive them theere +To safety, then returne. + + [_Ex't. ma: Ashb_.[128] + +_Clown_. What say'st thou to this gentleman? + +_Fisher_. No man better.--Now it will go on my syde; this is my owne +master, sure hee cannot bee so unatrall to give sentens against his +owne natural servant.--Syr, good daye. + +_Ashb_. Gramercyes, I in truth much suffered for thee, +Knowing howe rashly thou exposd thyself +To such a turbulent sea. + +_Clown_. I likewyse, Syr, salute you. + +_Ashb_. Thanks, good frend. + +_Clown_. But, syr, is this your servant.[129] + +_Ashb_. Yes, I acknowledge him; +And thou I thinke belongst to Mr _Raphael_, +Imployde about these women. + +_Clown_. Yes I acknowledge it; but you are sure hee's yours? + +_Ashb_. Once againe I doo confesse him myne. + +_Clown_. Then heare mee speake. + +_Fisher_. Heare mee your servant.[130] + +_Ashb_. I'l heare the stranger fyrst. + +_Clown_. In this you doo but justyce, I pray tell mee[131] ... Sea, is +this a fishe or no, or if a fishe what fishe do you call it (peace you). + +_Ashb_. It is no fishe nor fleshe. + +_Clowne_. Nor good redd herringe--fisherman, y'r gone. + +_Fisher_. Thou art deceav'd I am heare still, and may have heare for +ought I knowe to by all the redd herringe in _Marcell[es]_. + +_Clowne_. Did you ever heare of a fishe cal'd a budgett? + +_Ashb_. I protest never synce I knew the sea. + +_Clowne_. You are gone againe fisherman. + +_Fisher_. I am heare still; and now, master, heare mee. + +_Clowne_. Lett mee proceede. This bagge, this knapsacke, or this +portmanteau hee woold make a fishe bycause tooke in his nett. Nowe, +syr, I com to you with this ould proverbe, all's not fishe that com's +to nett.--There you are, gone againe. + +_Fisher_. But-- + +_Clowne_. No butt, nor turbutt. I suspect this budgett to be the +bawde's, in which are the discoveryes of this yonge woman's coontry +and parents. Now, syr, for their sakes, for my masters sake, for all +our sakes use the authority of a mayster to searche, and showe the +power you have over a servant to comand. + +_Ashb_. Will hee or not, hee shall assent to that. + +_Clowne_. A meere trick to undoo mee, ere I knwe +What I am wanting. + +_Ashb_. Call in the damseles, +Intreate them fayrely heather; say wee hope +We shall have good newes for them. + +_Fisher_. I will part with it only on this condition, that if there +bee nothinge in it which concernes them, the rest may returne to mee +unrifled and untutcht. + +_Ashb_. Did it conteyne the valew of a myne +I clayme no part in it. + +_Fisher_. Nor you? + +_Clowne_. Nor I. + +_Fisher_. By the contents of this budgett. + +_Clowne_. I sweare. + +_Ashb_. I vowe. + +_Fisher_. Then there tak't to you, mayster, and once more +Good lucke on my syde! + + _Enter Godfrey, usheringe in Palestra and Scribonia_. + +_Palest_, You sent to speake with us? + +_Ashb_. I did indeed, +Saye, knowe you this? y'have leave, surveigh it well. + +_Pal_. This? knowe I this? oh, my _Scribonia_, see! +Yes, and by this alone may knowe myself. +Looke well upon't, deare syster; extasy +May dimme myne eyes, it cannot purblind thyne. + +_Scrib_. Itt is the same, _Palestra_. + +_Fisher_. Then sure I shall not bee the same man in the afternoone +that I was in the morninge. + +_Scrib_. In this is a greate masse of wealthe included, +All that the bawde hath by corruption gott +In many a thrifty yeare. + +_Fisher_. Comfort for mee. + +_Ashb_. But tell me is there ought of yours included, +Which you may justly chalendge? + +_Pal_. Of that gould +No not the valewe of one poor deneere:[132] +'Tis all base brokadge boathe of sinne and shame +Of which wee neare weare guilty; yet inclosed +There shall you find a cabinet of myne, +Where boathe my naturall parents you may see +In a small roome intended. + +_Fisher_. An unatrall child thou art to trust thy naturall parents +into a leatheren bagge and leave them in the bottom of y'e sea. + +_Pal_. Showe mee the caskett: if before you ope it +I do not name you every parcell in't +Lett it no more bee myne, mak't your own pryse; +But such small trifles as I justly chalenge +And cannot yeeld you the least benefitt, +Of them let mee bee mystresse, synce they are +The somme and crowne of all my future hopes, +But from my tender infancy deteined. +As for the gould and Jewells mak't your spoyle; +Of that I clayme no portione. + +_Fisher_. I accept of the condition. + +_Ashb_. Itt is boathe just and honest; we'll have no juggling, +And, _Gripus_, synce the busines concernes you, +Have you a curious ey too't. + +_Fisher_. Feare not mee, for boathe at sea and land I was ever a goodd +marksman. + +_Ashb_. The caskett is nowe open'd: what coms fyrste? + +_Pal_. Above, the clothes in which I fyrst was swathde, +The linnen fyrst worne in myne infancy. + +_Ashb_. These are child's swathinges; whether thyne or no +It is to mee uncertaine. To the rest. + +_Pal_. And next to these is a ritche handkercher, +Where you shall find in golden letters wrought +My place of byrthe, myne and my father's name. + +_Ashb_. Heare's such a handkercher, such letters workt: +Speake them, as I shall reade them. + +_Pal. Mirable_. + +_Ashb_. Right! _Myrable_. + +_Pal. Daughter of Jhon Ashburne, merchant_. + +_Ashb_. Trewe: of _Jhon Ashburne_ merchant--Oh my sowle! +--Proceed, prithee proceede. + +_Pal. And borne in Christ-chyrch, London, Anno_-- + +_Ashb_. 160(?)0.[133] +Oh you Imortall powers. I stagger yet +Beetwixt despayer and hope, and canott guesse +Which weye my fate will swaye mee; oh speake, speake! +Thy mothers name? + +_Pal_. Reade it in sylver letters pleynly wrought +In the next Imbrodered Linnen. + +_Ashb_. If that fayle not +I have a firme rock to build upon.-- +_The guift of Isabell to her daughter Mirable_.-- +Oh frend, oh servant! + +_Clown_. How is't, syr? + +_Fisher_. How now, mayster? + +_Ashb_. I that so many yeares have been despoyl'd, +Neclected, shattered, am made upp againe, +Repaired, and new created. + +_Pal_. Search but further +And there's a golden brooch in it, a diamond, +Upon my byrthday geven mee by my father. + +_Ashb_. I have longe sought and nowe at lengthe have found +That diamond, thee my doughter. + +_Pal_. How, syr? + +_Ashb_. Shee that so late excluded thee my house +And shutt these gates against thee, _Isabell_ +Thy mother, these weare her owne handyworkes +Bestowde upon thee in thyne infancy +To make us nowe boathe happy in thy yoouth. +I am _Jhon Ashburne_ marchant, _London, Christ Church_; +The yeare, place, tyme agree thee to bee myne, +Oh merher [mirror] of thy sex, my _Myrable_! + +_Pal_. This surplusadge of joy should not bee forged. + +_Ashb_. No more than these noates are infalleble. + +_Pal_. Thus then in all Humility I kneele +To you my acknowledgd father. + +_Ashb_. Ryse, my guerle. + +_Fisher_. Had I not drawne this leeward out of the sea, where had it +bin? all drownd by this. + +_Ashb_. No triflinge nowe: post, _Godfrey_, to my wyfe, +Tell her no more then thou hast heard and seene: +Shee's hard of faythe, relate it punctually, +Beare her (oh lett me borrowe them so longe) +These better to confirme her; bid her hast, +And for the truth add these as testimony:-- +Nay, art thou heare still? + +_Godf_. Lyke a shadowe vanisht, +But to returne a substance. [_Exit Godfrey_.[134] + +_Ashb_. Oh my deare doughter!--where's young _Raphael's_ man +Beare him of all what thou hast seene a perfect +And trew relation. + +_Clowne_. Ay, syr. + +_Ashb_.[135] Bidd him too, +All business sett apart, make hether. + +_Clown_. Ay, syr. + +_Ashb_. Tell him that his _Palestra_ is my _Mirable_. + +_Clown_. Ay, syr. + +_Ashb_. And that shee is my doughter, my lost child. + +_Clowne_. Ay, syr. + +_Ashb_. And that of all this I am most assur'd. + +_Clown_. Ay, syr. + +_Ashb_. Thou wilt not doo all this? + +_Clown_. I will, you lye, syr. + +_Ashb_. Howe, syr. + +_Cl_. Ay, syr. + +_Ashb_. Saye that this daye shee shalbee made his wyfe. + +_Cl_. Ay, syr. + +_Ashb_. Why then add winges unto your heeles and fly, syr. + +_Cl_. Ay syr, but ere I take my flight, for this good servyce +You'll mediate with him for my freedom? + +_Ashb_. So. + +_Cl_. And woo your doughter to doo so too? + +_Ashb_. So. + +_Cl_. And, syr, to him I shalbee thankefull. + +_Ashb_. So. + +_Cl_. Your doughters and your servant ever. + +_Ashb_. So. + +_Cl_. To go, roonne, ryde of all your arrants. + +_Ashb_. So. + +_Cl_. In all this you'l bee slack in nothinge? + +_Ashb_. So. + +_Cl_. And you'l heareafter love mee still? + +_Ashb_. So, so. + +_Cl_. Howe, but so, so? + +_Ashb_. Yes, so and so and so. + +_Cl_. Why, then I go, go, goe. [_Exit Clown_. + +_Ashb_. But one thinge I intreate you, _Mirable_: +This thyrteene yeares, since by rude creditors +Tost and opprest, nay rent out of myne owne, +I have bin forct to seeke my fate abroad, +Howe weare you ravisht thence, or since that tyme +What strange adventures past? + + _Enter Godfrey, and the wyfe with the handkercher_. + +_Mirable_. My mother's presence +Must now prevent my answer. + +_Wyfe_. Where is shee? oh wheare, wheare? for by these tokens, +These of her childhood most unfallid signes, +I knwe her for my doughter. + +_Mir_. I have bene +The longe and wretched owner of that cabinet +With all therein contein'd. + +_Wyfe_. Into thy boosom +Oh lett mee rayne a shower of joyfull teares +To welcom thee, my _Mirable_. + +_Godf_. You threatned her but nowe with skaldinge water; mee thinks you +had more neede to comfort her with hott waters, for sure shee canott bee +warme synce shee came so late out of the could bathe. + +_Wyf_. Make fyares, bid them make ready wholesom brothes, +Make warme the bedd, and see the sheetes well ayred. +Att length then have I fownd thee? + +_Ashb_. But what's shee +That's in thy fellow-shippe? + +_Mir_. My fellowe sharer +In all misfortunes; and for many yeares +So deere to mee, I canot tast a blessednes +Of which shee's not partaker. + +_Wyfe_. For thy sake +Shee shall bee myne too, and (in her) I'l thinke +The powers above have for my single losse +Given mee at lengthe a duble recompense. + +_Scrib_. For which hee that protects all inocence +Will in good tyme reward you. + +_Wyfe_. Praye, in, in; +This could is prejuditiall to your Healthes. +I'l count you boathe my twinnes. + + [_Ext. Wife, Palestra, and Scribonia_. + +_Ashb_. Strange alteration! +Skoldinge is turn'd to pittye, spleen and mallyce +To mercye and compassion. + +_Fisher_. But your promisse +Tutchinge my budgett? + +_Ashb. Godfreye_, beare it in +And lodge it safe; there's no tyme for that; +We'll talke of it herafter. + +_Godf_. Fellow _Gripus_, I am made for this tyme porter. Ladeys, your +trusty treasurer. + [_Ext. Ashbourne and Godfrey_. + +_Gripus_. These are the fishermen and I the fishe catcht in the nett; +well my comfort is, thoughe my booty have made me no ritcher then I was, +poorer then I am I canott bee. Nowe[136] wherein is the ritche more +happy then the poore? I thinke rather lesse blessed and that shall +approue by this excellent good ballet, thoughe sett to a scurvy tune. + + Lett ech man speake as he's possest + I hold the poore man's state most blest. + For if longe lyfe contentment bredes, + In that the poore the ritche exceedes; + + The ritch man's dayes are short, as spent + In pleasures and supposed content; + Whylst to us poore men care and troble + Makes every hower wee wast seeme duble. + + He that hathe ech daye to his backe + Chandge of gaye suites, whylst wee alacke + Have but one coate, that coorse and ould, + Yet it defends us from the could; + + As warme too in an equll eye + As they in all theere purple dye; + 'Mongst all theere store, they weare, we see, + But one at once, and so do wee. + + The ritche that at his table feasts + With choyse of dayntyes, sundry guests, + In all his plenty can but fill + One belly; so the poore can still + + With cheese and onions and disguest[137] + As well with them as th'others feast. + The pesent with his homespoon lasse + As many merry howers may passe + + As coortiers with there sattin guerles, + Though ritchly dect in gould and pearles; + And, though but pleyne, to purpose wooe, + Nay ofttymes with lesse danger too. + +And yet for all this I have one crotchett left in my fate to bate a +new hooke for the gold in the portmanteau. + + [_Exit_. + + + + +_Actus 4to_. + +SCENA 3A. + + + _Enter Dennis with the Fryar from aboue upon his backe_. + +_Den_. Whether a knavishe or a sinneful load, +Or one or bothe I know not; massye it is, +And if no frend will for mee,[138] I'l bee sorry +For myne owne heavinesse. And heare's a place, +Though neather of the secretest nor the best, +To unlade myself of this Iniquity. +When I satt late astryde upon the wall, +To lyft the ladder this waye for descent, +Mee thought the fryar lookt lyke S _George_ a horsback +And I his trusty steede. But nowes no triflynge: +Hee's[139] where hee is in Comons, wee discharged, +Boathe of suspect and murther; which lett the covent +To-morrowe morninge answere howe they cann. +I'I backe the waye wee came; what's doon, none sawe +I'th howse nor herde; they answer then the Lawyer. + [_Exit_. + + _Enter Fryar Richard_. + +_Fr. R_. Of all Infirmityes belonginge to us +I hould those woorst that will not lett a man +Rest in his bedd a-nights. And I of that, +By reason of a late could I have gott, +Am at this instant guilty; which this rushinge +From a warme bedd in these wild frosty nights +Rather augments then helpes; but all necessityes +Must bee obeyde. But soft, there's one before mee: +By this small glimpse of moone light I perceave him +To bee Fryar _Jhon_, my antient adversary.[140] +Why _Jhon_? why _Jhon_? what! not speake! why, then +I see 'tis doon of malyce, and of purpose +Only to shame mee, since hee knowes the rest +Take notyce what a loose man I am growne. +Nay prithee, sweete fryar _Jhon_, I am in hast, +Horrible hast; doo but release mee nowe, +I am thy frend for ever. What! not heare! +Feigne to bee deaf of purpose, and of slight! +Then heare is that shall rouse you. Are you falne? + [_Eather[141] strykes him with a staffe or casts a stone_. +What, and still mute and sylent? nay, not styrr? +I'l rowse you with a vengance! not one limbe +To doo his woonted offyce, foot nor hand? +Not a pulse beatinge, no breathe? what no motion? +Oh mee of all men lyvinge most accurst! +I have doon a fearefull murder, which our former +Inveterate hate will be a thousand testats +That I for that insidiated his lyfe. +The deedes apparant and the offens past pardon. +There's nowe no waye but fly: but fly! which way? +The cloyster gates are all bar'd and fast lockt; +These suddeine mischieffes shuld have suddeine shifts. +About it breyne and in good tyme. I hate![142] +Suspitious rumors have bene lately spread +And more then whispered of th'incontinent love +Fryar _Jhon_ boare to the knight's Lady. Had I meanes +Howe to conveighe his body o'er the wall +To any or the least part of the howse, +It might bee thought the knight in jelosy +Had doone this murder in a just revendge. +Let me surveighe th'ascent: happy occation! +To see howe redy still the devill is +To helpe his servants! heare's a ladder left: +Upp, Fryare, my purpose is to admitt you nowe +Of a newe cloyster. I will sett his body +Upright in the knights porche and leave my patron +To answer for the falt, that hath more strength +Then I to tugge with Benches. + [_Exit. Carry him up_. + + _Enter the knight, half unredy, his Lady after him_. + +_D'Avern_. Ho, _Denis_! + +_Lady_. Give mee reason, I intreate, +Of these unquiet sleepes. + +_D'Av_. You dogg mee, Lady, +Lyke an Ill genius. + +_Lady_. You weare woont to call mee +Your better angel. + +_D'Av_. So I shall doo still, +Would you beetake you to your quiet sleepes +And leave mee to my wakinges. + +_Lady_. There beelonges +Unto one bedd so sweete a sympathy, +I canott rest without you. + +_D'Av_. To your chamber! +There may growe els a woorse antypathy +Beetwixt your love and myne: I tell you, Lady, +Myne is no woman's busines. No reply: +Your least insured presence att this tyme +Will but begett what you would loathe to beare, +Quarrell and harshe unkindnes. + +_Lady_. Ever your lipps +Have bene too mee a lawe.--I suspect more +Then I would apprehend with willingnes; +But though prevention canott helpe what's past, +Conjugall faythe may expresse itself at last. + [_Exit Lady_. + +_D'Av_. Why, _Denis_, ho! awake and ryse in hast! + +_Denis_. What, is your Lordshipp madd! + +_D'Av_. Knowest thou what's past +And canst thou skape this danger? + +_Denis_. Did I not tell you +That all was safe, the body too disposed +Better then in his grave? + +_D'Av_. Strange thoughts sollicite mee. +Upp and inquire about the cloyster wall +What noyse thou hearest, if any private whisperinge +Or louder uprore 'bout the murder ryse. + +_Denis_. I shall, I shall, Syr. [_Exit Dennis_. + +_D'Av_. Guilt, thoughe it weare a smooth and peacefull face, +Yet is within full of seditious thoughts +That makes continuall follie. [_Exit_. + + _Enter Fryar Richard with Fryar Jhon upon his backe_. + +_Fr. Rich_. This is the porch that leades into the hall; +Heare rest for thyne and myne own better ease. +This havinge done, to prevent deathe and shame +By the same stepps I'l back the way I came. + + [_Fryer sett up and left. Exit_. + + _Enter Denis half unredy_. + +_Denis_. This is the penalty belonges to servyce: +Masters still plott to theire owne private ends, +And wee that are theire slaves and ministers +Are cheef still in the troble; they ingrosse +The pleasure and the proffitt, and wee only +The swett and payne. My Lord hath doon a mischeef +And nowe I must not sleepe.--What art thou? +None of the howse sure, I should knwe thy face then: +Beesydes my Lord gives no such lyverye. +Nowe in the name of heaven, what art thou? speake, +Speake if thou beest a man! or if a ghost +Then glyde hence lyke a shadowe! tis the--oh!-- +The fryar hathe nimbly skipt back over the wall, +Hath lyke a surly Justyce bensht himself +And sitts heare to accuse uss! where's my Lord? +Helpe, Helpe! his murdered ghost is com from Hell +On earth to cry _Vindicta_![143] + + _Enter L. D'Averne_. + +_D'Av_. What clamors this? + +_Denis_. Oh Syr-- + +_D'Av_. Why, howe is't, _Denis_? + +_Denis_. Never woorse--the fryar, Syr-- + +_D'Av_. What of him? + +_Denis_. The slave that would not leive the place but carried, +Is of himself com back. + +_D'Av_. Whether? + +_Denis_. Looke theere. + +_D'Av_. That which I took to bee meare fantasy +I finde nowe to bee real; murder is +A cryinge sinne, and canot be conceal'd. +Yet his returne is straunge. + +_Denis_, 'Tis most prodigious; +The very thought of it hath put a cricke +Into my necke allredy. + +_D'Av_. One further desperate tryall I will make +And putt it too adventer. + +_Denis_. Pray hows that, Syr? + +_D'Av_. There's in my stable an ould stallion, once +A lusty horse but now past servyce. + +_Denis_. Godd [_sic_], syr. + +_D'Av_. Him I'l have sadled and capparisond. +Heare in the hall a rusty Armor hanges, +Pistolls in rotten cases, an ould sword, +And a cast lance to all these sutable. +I'l have them instantly tooke downe. + +_Den_. And then? + +_D'Av_. In these I'l arme the fryar from head to knee; +Mount him into his saddle, with stronge cords +There bind him fast, and to his gauntlet hand +Fasten his lance; for basses[144] tis no matter, +These his grey skyrts will serve. Thus arm'd, thus mounted, +And thus accoutred, with his beiver upp, +Turne him out of the gates, neither attended +With squire or page, lyke a stronge knight adventures +To seeke a desperate fortune. + +_Denis_. Hee may so if hee please +Ryde post unto the Devill. + +_D'Av_. This I'l see doone, +'Tis a decree determinde. + +_Denis_. Capp a pe +I'l see him arm'd and mounted. + + [_Exeunt_. + + _Enter Fryar Richard_. + +_Fr. R_. This murder canott bee so smothered upp +But I in th'end shall paye for't; but feare still +Is wittye in prevention. Nowe for instance +There's but one refuge left mee, that's to flye: +The gates are shutt upon mee and myself +Am a badd foottman, yet these difficultyes +I can thus helpe; there to this place beelonges +A mare that every second d[a]yes' imployde +To carry corne and fetch meele from the mill, +Distant som half league off; I by this beast +Will fashion myne escape.--What, baker, ho! + +_Within Baker_. What's hee that calls so early? + +_Fr. R_. I, Fryar _Richard_. + +_Baker_. What would you have that you are stirringe thus +An hower before the Dawne. + +_Fr. Rich_. I cannott sleepe +And understandinge there's meale redy ground, +Which thou must fetch this morninge from the mill, +I'l save thee so much pey[n]es. Lend mee the beast, +And lett mee forthe the gate; I'l bringe boathe back +Ere the bell ringe for mattens. + +_Baker_. Marry, Fryar _Richard_, +With all my hart, and thanke yee. I'l but ryse +And halter her, then lett you forthe the gate; +You'l save mee so much labour. + +_Fr. Rich_. This falls out +As I coold wishe, and in a fortunate hower; +For better then to too legges trust to fower. + +_Explicit Actus 4_. + + + + +_Act_ 5. + +SCENE PRIMA. + + + _Enter Thomas Ashburne the younger brother to John, + a merchant, with one of the Factors_.[145] + +_Thomas_. Are all things safe abord? + +_Factor_. As you can wish, sir; +And notwithstandinge this combustious stryfe +Betwixt the winds and Seas, our ship still tight, +No anchor, cable, tackle, sayle or mast +Lost, though much daunger'd; all our damadge is +That where our puerpose was for _Italy_ +We are driven into _Marcellis_. + +_Thomas_. That's myne unhappines +That beinge come upon a brother's quest +Longe absent from his country, who of late +After confinement, penury, distresse +Hath gained a hopefull fortune, and I travelling +To beare him tydeinges of a blest estate +Am in my voyage thwarted. + +_Factor_. In what province +Resydes hee at this present? + +_Thomas_. His last letters +That I receav'd weare dated from _Leagahorne_; +Nowe wee by this infortnate storme are driven +Into _Marcellis_ roads. + +_Factor_. For the small tyme +Of our abode heare what intend you, Sir? + +_Thomas_. To take in victuall and refresh our men, +Provyde us of thinges needefull, then once more +With all the expeditious hast wee can +Sett sayle for _Florens_. + +_Factor_. Please you, Sir, +I'l steward well that busines. + +_Thomas_. I'th meanetyme +I shall find leisure to surveigh the towne, +The keyes, the temples, forts and monuments; +For what's the end of travell but to better us +In judgment and experiens? What are these? +Withdrawe and give them streete-roome. + + _Enter Raphael, Treadeway and the Clowne_. + +_Raph_. Hath my _Palestra_ fownd her parents then? + +_Clowne_. As sure as I had lost you. + +_Raph_. And free borne? + +_Clowne_. As any in _Marcellis_. + +_Raph_. _Englishe_, sayst thou? + +_Clowne_. Or _Brittishe_, which you please. + +_Raph_. Her trew name _Mirable_ +And _Ashburne's_ doughter? + +_Clowne_. Suer as yours is _Raphaels_ +And _Tread-wayes_ his. + +_Thomas_. _Mirable_ and _Ashburne_! + +_Factor_. Names that concerne you, Sir. + +_Thomas_. Peace, listen further. + +_Raph_. Thou with these woords hast extasyde my sowle +And I am all in rapture. Then hee's pleasd +Wee too shalbee contracted? + +_Clowne_. 'Tis his mynd, Sir. + +_Raph_. The moother, too, consents? + +_Clowne_. So you shall finde, Sir. + +_Raph_. And _Mirable_ pleasd, too? + +_Clowne_. Shes so inclind, Sir. + +_Raph_. And this the very day? + +_Clowne_. The tyme assignd, Sir. + +_Raph_. Shee shalbee suerly myne. + +_Clowne_. As vowes can bind, Sir. + +_Raph_. Thou sawest all this? + +_Clowne_. I am suer I was not blind, Sir. + +_Raph_. And all this shall bee done? + +_Clown_. Before you have din'd, Sir. + +_Raph_. Oh, frend, eather pertake with mee in Joy +And beare part of this surplus, I shall else +Dye in a pleasinge surfett. + +_Tread_. Frend, I doo +Withall intreate you interceade for mee +To your fayre loves companion, for if all +Th'estate I have in _France_ can by her freedom, +Shee shall no longer faynt beneathe the yoake +Of lewdnes and temptation. + +_Raph_. The extent +Of that fyxt love I ever vowde to thee +Thou in this act shall find. + +_Tread_. And it shall seale it, +Beyond all date or limitt. + +_Raph_. Come, hasten, frend, methinks at lengthe I spy +After rough tempests a more open skye. + + [_Exeunt[146] Raphael and Treadway_. + +_Clowne_. And I will after you home, Syr, +Since so merrily blowes the wind, Sir. + +_Thomas_. Staye, frend, I am a stranger in these parts +And woold in one thinge gladly bee resolved. + +_Clowne_. I am in haste. + +_Thomas_. That little leasure thou bestowest on mee +I shalbee gladd to pay for; nay, I will. +Drinke that for my sake. + +_Clowne_. Not this, Syr, as it is; for I can make a shifte to dissolve +hard mettall into a more liquid substance. A cardeq![147] oh Syr, I can +distill this into a quintessence cal'd _Argentum potabile_.[148] + +_Thomas_. I heard you name one _Ashburne_; can you bring mee +To th'sight of such a man? + +_Clowne_. Easily I can, Syr. But for another peice of the same stampe, +I can bringe you to heare him, to feele him, to smell, to tast him, and +to feede upon him your whole fyve senses. + +_Thomas_. There's for thee, though I have no hope at all +To finde in _France_ what I in _Florens_ seeke. +And though my brother have no child alyve, +As longe synce lost when I was rob'd of myne, +Yet for the namesake, to my other travells +I'l add this little toyle, though purposeles. +I have about mee letters of Import +Dyrected to a merchant of that name +For whose sake (beeinge one to mee intyred) +I only crave to see the gentleman. + +_Clowne_. Beleeve mee Syr I never love to jest, with those that +beforehand deale with me in earnest. Will you follow mee? + +_Thomas_. Prooves hee my brother, and his dowghter found, +Lost by my want of care, (which canott bee +All reasons well considered) and I so happy +To bringe him newes of a recovered state, +Who to his foes so longe hathe been a prey, +I'd count my monthes and years but from this day. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +SCENE 2. + + + _Enter at one door D'Averne, and Dennis with the Fryar armed. + At the other Fryar Richard and the Baker_. + +_D'Averne_. So nowe all's fitt, the daylight's not yet broake; +Mount him and lock him in the saddle fast, +Then turn him forthe the gates. + +_Dennis_. Pray, Syr, your hand to rayse him. + +_D'Av_. Nowe lett him post, whether his fate shall guide him. + + [_Exeunt_. + + _Ent. Rich. and Baker_. + +_Baker_. The mare's ready. + +_Fr. R_. Only the key to ope the cloyster gate, +Then all is as it shoold be. + +_Baker_. Tak't, there tis. +But make hast, good Fryar _Richard_; you will else +Have no new bredd to dinner. + +_Fr. R_. Feare not, baker; +I'l proove her mettall. Thus I back one mare +Least I shoold ryde another. [_Exit_. + +_Baker_. It is the kindest novyce of my consciens +That ere woare hood or coole. + + [_A noyse within. Trampling of Horses_. + +What noyse is that? now by the Abbot's leave +I will looke out and see. + [_Clere_. + + _Enter Averne and Dennis_. + +_D'Av_. Howe nowe? the newes? +The cause of that strange uprore? + +_Den_. Strange indeed, +But what th'event will bee, I cannott guesse. + +_D'Av_. Howe is it, speake. + +_Den_. I had no sooner, as your Lordshipp badd, +Putt him upon his voyadge, turn'd him out, +But the ould resty stallion snuft and neighd, +And smelt, I thinke, som mare, backt (I perceavd +By the moone light) by a Fryar, in whose pursuite +Our new made horseman with his threatninge lance, +Pistolles, and rotten armor made such noyse +That th'other, frighted, clamours throughe the streetes +Nothinge but deathe and murder. + +_D'Av_. But the sequell?-- +The clamour still increasethe. [_Noyse_. + + _Enter the Baker rooninge_. + +_Baker_. Oh never, never, +Was seene such open mallyce! + +_Den_. What's the busines? + +_Baker_. Give mee but leave to breath--Oh especially in a cloyster! + +_Den_. Out wee't, man. + +_Baker_. The novyce _Richard_, to save mee a labour, +Borrowed my mare to fetch meale for the mill. +I knowe not howe the devill Fryar _Jhon_ knew't, +But all in armor watch't him gooinge out +And after spurrs to chardge him, beeinge unarmd, +0 suer if hee cannott reatch him with his lance +Hee'l speede him with his pistolls. + +_Denis_. All's well yet. + [_Noyse_. + +_Baker_. This noyse hath cal'd much people from there bedds, +And troobled the whole villadge. + +_Fr. R_. (_within_). Hold, hold, I do confesse the murder. + +_Baker_. Suer hee hath slayne him, for murder is confest. + +_D'Av_. Tis better still. + + _Enter Ashburne, Godfrey, &c_. + +_Godf_. Was never knowne the lyke! + +_Baker_. Is _Ritchard_ slayne? +I sawe Fryar _Jhon_, arm'd dreadfully with weapons +Not to be worne in peace, pursue his lyfe; +All which I'l tell the abbott. + [_Exit Baker_. + +_Ashb_. Most strange it is that the pursude is fownd +To bee the murderer, the pursuer slayne. +Howe was it, _Godfrey_? thou wast upp beefore mee +And canst discoorse it best. + +_Godfr_. Thus, Syr: at noyse of murder, with the tramplinge +Of horse and ratlinge armor in the streetes, +The villadgers weare wakend from there sleepes; +Som gap't out of there windowes, others venter'd +Out of theere doores; amongst which I was one +That was the foremost, and saw _Ritchard_ stopt +At a turninge lane, then overtooke by _Jhon_; +Who not him self alone, but even his horse +Backing the tother's beast, seemd with his feete +To pawe him from his saddle; att this assault +Friar _Richard_ cryes, hold, hold and haunt mee not +For I confesse the murder! folke came in +Fownd th'one i'th sadle dead, the t'other sprallinge +Upon the earthe alyve, still cryinge out +That hee had doun the murder. + +_D'Av_. Exellent still; withdrawe, for wee are saffe. + + _Enter the Abbott, the baker, Fryar Richard, prisoner + and guarded, &c_.[149]-- + +_Abbott_. These mischeefes I foretould; what's mallyce elsse +Than murder halff comitted? though th'event +Bee allmost above apprehension strange, +Yet synce thyne owne confession pleades thee guilty +Thou shalt have leagall tryall. + +_Fr. Rich_. I confess +I was the malefactor and deserve +Th'extremity of Lawe; but woonder much +Howe hee in such a short tyme after death +Should purchase horse and weapons. + +_Abbot_. Murder's a sinne +Which often is myraculously reveal'd. +Lett justyce question that; beare him to prison, +The t'other to his grave. + +_Baker_. Beeinge so valiant after deathe mee thinkes hee deserves the +honor to bee buried lyke a knight in his compleate armor. + +_Abbot_. These thinges shoold not bee trifled. Honest frendes, +Retyre you to your homes; these are our chardge. +Wee will acquaint our patron with this sadd +And dyre desaster; fyrst his counsell use, +Next as wee maye our Innocens excuse. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +SCENA 3, ET ULTIMA. + + + _Enter Mildewe and Sarleboyes_.[150] + +_Mild_. May the disease of _Naples_ now turn'd _Frensh_ +Take bothe the Judge and Jurors! they have doomd +The fayre _Palestra_ from mee. + +_Sarl_. So they had +_Scribonia_ too, and mulcted us beesydes, +But that in part they did comiserate +Our so greate losse by sea. + +_Mild_. This is the curse +Belonges to all us bawdes: gentle and noble, +Even th'ouldest fornicator, will in private +Make happy use of us with hugges and brybes; +But let them take us at the publick bench, +Gainst consciens they will spitt at us and doome us +Unto the post and cart. Oh the coruptnes +Of these dissemblinge letchers! + +_Sarlab_. 'Tis well yet +You have reserved one virgin left for sale; +Of her make your best proffitt. + +_Mild_.[151] A small stocke +To rayse a second fortune; yet com, frend, +Wee will go seeke her out. + + _Enter Gripus the Fisherman_. + +_Fisher_. No budgett to bee com by; my ould mayster, +Hee stands on consciens to deliver it +To the trew owner, but I thinke in consciens +To cheate mee and to keepe it to him selfe; +Which hee shall never doo, to prevent which +I'l openly proclayme it. + [_Oh yes_! + If any userer or base exacter, + Any noble marchant or marchant's factor, + Bee't marchant venterer or marchant Taylor + Bee hee Mr. Pilot, botswyne or saylor-- + + _Enter Godfrey to them_. + +_Godf_. Hist, _Gripus_, hyst! + +_Fish_. Peace, fellowe _Godfrey_. I'l now play the blabber.-- +If eather passinger owner or swabber[152] +That in the sea hathe lost a leather budgett +And to the Dolphins, whales or sharkes, doth grudge itt-- + +_Godf_. Wilt thou betraye all? I'I go tell my mayster. + +_Fish_. Yes, _Godfrey_, goe and tell him all and spare not, +I am growne desperate; if thou dost I care not. + +_Mild_. Hee talkt of a leatheren budgett lost at sea; +More of that newes would please mee. + +_Fish_. Bee hee a Cristian or beleeve in _Mawmett_[153] +I such a one this night tooke in my drawnett. + +_Mild_. My soone, my child, nay rather, thou young man, +I'l take thee for my father, for in this +Sure thou hast new begott mee. + +_Fish_. Blessing on thee! +But shoold I have a thousand children more, +I almost durst presume I never should have +Another more hard favored. + +_Mild_. Thou art any thinge. +But hast thou such a budgett? + +_Fisher_. Syr, I have +And new tooke from the sea. What woldst thou give +And have it safe? + +_Mild_. I'l give a hundred crownes. + +_Fish_. Tush, offer me a sowse[154] but not in th'eare; +I will barr that afore hand. + +_Mild_. And all safe, +I'l give thee then too hondred. + +_Fish_. Offer me a cardeq! + +_Mild_. Three hondred, 4, nay fyve +So nothinge bee diminisht. + +_Fish_. I will have +A thousand crowns or nothinge. + +_Mild_. That growes deepe. + +_Fish_. Not so deepe as the sea was. + +_Mild_. Make all safe, +And I will give a thousand. + +_Fish_. Tis a match, +But thou wilt sweare to this. + +_Mild_. Give mee myne othe. + +_Fish_. If, when first I shall beehold + My leatheren bagge that's stuft with gould, + At sight thereof I paye not downe + To _Gripus_ every promist crowne-- + Now say after mee. + May _Mildewe_ I in my best age. + +_Mild_. May _Mildewe_ I in my best age. + +_Fish_. Dy in some spittle, stocks or cage.[155] + +_Mild_. Dy in some spittle stocks or cage. + +_Fish_. I'l keepe my promisse, fayle not thou thine oathe. +So inn and tell my mayster. [_Exit Fisherman_. + +_Mild_. Yes, bawdes keepe oaths! t'must bee in leap-yeare then, +Not now; what wee sweare weel forsweare agen. + + _Enter Ashburne, Godfrey, and Gripus, to 'em_. + +_Ashb_. And hee in that did well, for Heaven defend +I shoold inritche mee with what's none of myne. +Where is the man that claymes it? + +_Grip_. Heare's my sworne soon, that but even now acknowledgd mee to +bee his father. + +_Ashb_. Knowest thou this? + +_Mild_. Yes for myne owne. I had thought, lyke one forlorne, +All fortune had forsooke mee, but I see +My best dayes are to com. Welcom my lyfe! +Nay if there bee in any bawde a sowle +This nowe hath mett the body. + +_Ashb_. All's theire safe +Unrifled, naye untutcht, save a small caskett +With som few trifles of no valewe in't, +Yet to mee pretious, synce by them I have fownd +My one and only doughter. + +_Mild_. Howes that, pray? + +_Ashb_. Thus; thy _Palestra_ is my _Mirable_. + +_Mild_. Now may you to your comfort keepe the guerle, +Synce of my wealthe I am once againe possest. +I heare acquitt you of all chardges past +Due for her education. + +_Ashb_. You speake well. + +_Grip_. It seemes you are possest, and this your owne. + +_Mild_. Which I'l knowe howe I part with. + +_Grip_. Com quickly and untrusse. + +_Mild_. Untrusse, Syr? what? + +_Grip_. Nay if you stand on poynts,[156] my crowns, my crowns: +Com tell them out, a thousand. + +_Mild_. Thousand deathes +I will indure fyrst! synce I neather owe thee +Nor will I paye thee any thinge. + +_Grip_. Didst thou not sweare? + +_Mild_. I did, and will againe +If it bee to my profit, but oathes made +Unto our hurt wee are not bound to keepe. + +_Ashb_. What's that you chalendge, _Gripus_. + +_Grip_. Not a sowse lesse +Then a full thousand crownes. + +_Ashb_. On what condition? + +_Grip_. So much hee vowed and swore to paye mee downe +At sight of this his budgett; a deneere +I will not bate; downe with my dust, thou perjurer. + +_Ashb_. But did hee sweare? + +_Mild_. Suppose it, saye I did. + +_Ashb_. Then thus I saye, oathes ta'ne advisedly +Ought to bee kept; and this I'l see performed, +What's forfett to my man is due to mee; +I claime it as my right; these your bawdes fallacyes +In this shall no weye helpe you, you shall answer it +Now as a subject and beefore the judge. + +_Mild_. If I appeare in coort I am lost againe; +Better to part with that then hazard all. +These bagges conteine fyve hundred pownds apeece, +Tak't and the pox to boot. + +_Grip_. And all these myne? + +_Godf_. Would I might have a share in't. + +_Ashb_. Nowe tell mee, _Mildewe_, howe thou ratest the freedome +Of th'other virgin yonge _Scribonia_, +Companion with my dowghter? + +_Mild_. I am weary +Of this lewde trade; give mee fyve hundred crownes +And take her; I'l gie't over now in tyme +Ere it bringe mee to the gallowes. + +_Ashb_. There's for her ransom; she's from henceforthe free. + +_Grip_. Howe, Syr? + +_Ashb_. These other, _Gripus_, still belonge to thee +Towards the manumission. + + _Enter at one doore Palestra, Scribonia; at the other + Raphael, Treadway, Thomas Ashburne and the Clowne_. + +_Raph_. If all bee trewe my man related to mee +I have no end of Joy. + +_Ash_. This is my _Mirable_, +My doughter and freeborne; and if you still +Persist the same man you profest your self, +Beehold shee is your wyfe. + +_Raph_. You crowne my hopes. + +_Mir_. This very day hathe made mee full amends +For many yeares of crosses. + +_Tread_. Nowe my suite. + +_Raph_. Nor are my expectations yet at heighte +Before my frend bee equally made blest +In this fayer damsell's love. + +_Tread_. To accomplishe which +If all the wealth that I injoye by land, +Or what at Sea's in ventur, will but purchase +With her release a tye of love to mee, +This hower it shalbe tenderd. + +_Ashb_. Offer'd fayrely; +But knwe, syr, could you winne her to your wishes, +She shall not lyke a bondemaide come to ye; +Fyve hundred crownes are tenderd downe all redy +(Unknowne to her) for her free liberty. + +_Scrib_. This is a Juberly, a yeare of Joy, +For chastity and spotles Inocens. + +_Tread_. Shall I intreate you to receive them backe? +Lett it bee made my woorke of charity. + +_Ashb_. I knowe you woorthy, but that must not bee; +Yet proove her, court her, with my free consent +And use the best love's rethorick you can: +If with the motion shee rest satisfied, +And you pleas'd to accept her, it shall never +Bee sayde you tooke a captyve to your bedd +But a free woman. + +_Tread_. Nobly have you spoake. + +_Raph_. Fayre _Mirable_, the fyrst thinge I intreate you +In which to expresse your love, speake for my frend. + +_Mir_. And with my best of Oratory. + +_Raph_.[157] Weel be all +Assistants in the motion. + +_Ashb_. If you prevayle, +I in the absens of som nearer frend +Have vowed to stand her father. + +_Clowne_. Now, Sir, I have showed him you, but are you ever the wyser? + +_Thom. Ash_. Peace, I am somwhat trobled. Oh tis hee, +My brother; and those rude and violent gusts +That to this strange Road thrust my shipp per force, +And I but late for new disasters curst, +Have with there light winges mounted mee aloft, +And for a haven in heaven new harbord mee. +Yet they but feede upon theire knowne delights; +Anon I'l make them surfett. + +_Scrib_. If to this frendly fayer society, +I, a poore desolate virgin, so much bownd, +Should putt you off with delatory trifles +When you importune answer, t'would appeare +In mee strange incivility: I am yours +And, beeinge so, therefore consequently his. + +_Ashb_. A match then! but, ere further you proceede, +Resolve mee one thinge, _Mildewe_,--not as thou art +Thyself, but as thou once weart made a Christian,-- +Knowest thou this made's descent, and parentadge? + +_Mild_. I will resolve you lyke a convertite,[158] +Not as the man I was: I knew there byrthes, +But for myne owne gayne kept them still conceal'd. + +_Ashb_. Now as thou hop'st of grace-- + +_Mild_. The nurse late dead +That had these too in chardge, betrayde a shipboord +And ravisht from her coontry, ere she expyr'd +Nam'd her the doughter of _Jhon Ashburne_, marchant. +Her I _Palestra_ cal'd, shee _Mirable_; +That, _Winefryde_, doughter to _Thomas Ashburne_ +Brother to the sayde _Jhon_, I cal'd _Scribonia_. +They too are coosin germans. + +_Ashb_. This our neece? + +_Thom_. My doughter? + +_Pal_. Partners in sorrowe, and so neere allyde, +And wee till nowe neare knewe it! + +_Scrib_. My deere coosin. + +_Ashb_. Nay, I'l bee my woords mayster; reache your hands, +And thoughe no nearer then an Unkle, once +I'l playe the father's part. + +_Thom_. Praye hold your hand, Syr; +Heares one that will doo't for you. + +_Ash_. Brother _Thomas_! + +_Thom_. Peruse that letter, whilst I breathe these Joys, +Impartinge these a most unlimitted love +In equall distribution, doughter, neece, +Brother, and frends; lett mee devyde amongst you +A fathers, brothers, and a kinsman's yoake +With all th'unmeasured pleasures and delights +That thought of man can wishe you. + +_Ashb_. Spare reply. +These tell mee, that those bloodhounds who pursude +My fall, my oppressinge creditors I meane, +Are gone before to answer for my wronges, +And in there deathes with due acknowledgment +Of all theire violens doon mee; peace with them! +That lykewyse by the deathe of a ritche alderman, +My unkle, I am left a fayer estate +In land, eight hundred by the yeare, in coyne +Twenty fyve thousand pound. Make mee, oh heaven, +For this greate blessinge gratefull! and not least +To you my Indeer'd brother. + +_Thom_. One thinge woonders mee +That I should fynd you neare _Marcellis_ heare, +When I was aym'd for _Florens_; where your letters +Inform'd mee you were planted. + +_Ashb_. But even thither +Those crewell men dog'd mee with such pursuit +That theire I fownd no safety, but was forct +To fly thence with that little I had left +And to retyre mee to this obscure place; +Where by the trade of fishinge I have lyv'd +Till nowe of a contented competens. +Those bates, hookes, lynes and netts for thy good servyce, +_Gripus_, I nowe make thyne. + +_Grip_. You are my noble mayster, and would I could have fownd more +tricks then these in my budgett, they had bin all at your servyce. + +_Ashb_. I purpose nowe for _England_, whether so please +These gentlemen consort us with theire brydes. + +_Boathe_. Most willingly. + +_Ashb_. There you shall see what welcome +Our _London_, so much spoake of heare in _France_, +Can give to woorthy strangers. + +_Thom_. Att my chardge +Your shippinge is provyded, and at anchor +Lyes ready in the roade. + +_Ashb_. Oh happy storme +That ends in such a calme! + + _Enter Godfreye in haste_. + +_Godf_. Staye, gentlemen, and see a dolefull sight; +One ledd to execution for a murder +The lyke hath scarce bin heard of. + +_Ash_. Of the Fryar? +In part we weare ey witness of the fact, +Nor is our hast so great but wee maye staye +To viewe his tragick end, whom the strickt lawe +Hathe made a Just example. + + _Enter the Abbott, Fryar Richard, Shreeve and officers_. + +_Abb_. Upon thy trewe confession I have given thee +Such absolution as the churche allowes. +What hast thou else to saye ere thou art made +To all men heare a wofull spectacle? + +_Fr. R_. This only, that betwixt Fryar _Jhon_ and mee +Was ever hate and mallyce; and althoughe +With no entent of murder, this my hand +This most unfortnate hand, beereft his lyff, +For which vile deede I mercy begge of Heaven, +Next of the woorld, whom I offended too, +Pardon and pitty. More to saye I have not: +Heaven of my sowle take chardge, and of my body +Dispose thou, honest hangeman. + +_Clown_. Lasse, poore Fryar, and yet there's great hope of his sowle, +for I canot spye one heyre betwixt him and heaven. + +_Fisher_. And yet I dowbt hee will make but a bald reckninge of it. + + _Enter the Lord De Averne and his man Dennis_. + +_Av_. Staye the execution. + +_Abb_. Our noble fownder out of his greate charity +And woonted goodnes begg'd him a reprieve! + +_Av_. Brought a reprieve I have: lett go the Fryar, +And take from mee your warrant; I dischardge him. + +_Sherif_. And yet, my Lord, 'tis fitt for our dischardge +That the Kinge's hand bee seene. + +_Av_. If not my woord +Will passe for currant, take my person then, +Or if you thinke unequall the exchaunge +I tender my man's too to valewe his. +Meanetyme dismisse him as one Innocent +Of what hee is condemde. + +_Abb_. By his owne mouthe +Hee stands accus'd. + +_Av_. And wetnes all of you, +As frely I acquitt him. + +_Sher_. Honored Syr, +Praye bee more playne, wee understand you not. + +_Av_. I'l make it playne then. + +_Cl_. Now if thou bee'st wyse drawe thy neck out of the collar, doo, +Slipp-stringe, doo. + +_Rich_. Marry, with all my hart and thanke him too. + +_Av_. Attend mee, reverend father, and you all +Of this assembly: for som spleene conceiv'd +Against the Fryar deceast, I strangled him; +The cause why no man heare importun mee: +For many reasons to my self best knowne +I hold fitt to conceale it, but I murdered him +In myne owne howse. + +_Abb_. But by your Honor's favour +How can that bee when _Richard_ heere confest +Hee slewe him in our cloyster? + +_Av_. Heare me outt. +At fyrst, untutcht with horror of the fact, +My purpose was to laye the guilt elswhear +And for that purpose caus'd my man to mount him +Over the cloyster wall. + +_Denis_. Which soone I did +By th'helpe of a short ladder, sett him theire +In a close-place and thoughe not of the sweetest +Yet as I thought the safest; left him there. + +_Fr. R_. Just in that place I found him, and imadgining +He satt of purpose theire to despight mee, +I hitt him with a stone, hee fell withall +And I thought I had slayne him. + +_Dennis_. But howe the Devill +Gott hee into our porch? that woonders mee. + +_Fr. R_. I fownd a ladder theire. + +_Den_. The same I left. + +_Fr. R_. Gott him upon my shoolders and by that +Conveighd him back and left him in that porch, +Wheare, as it seemes, you fownd him. + +_Av_. This troblinge us, it drove us to newe plotts. +We arm'd the Fryar, accoutred as you sawe, +Mounted him on a stallion, lock't him fast +Into the saddle, turn'd him forthe the gates +To trye a second fortune. + +_Fr. R_. Just at the tyme +When, I beeinge mounted on the baker's mare, +The gates weare sett wyde ope for mee to fly. + +_Abb_. So that it seemes one beast pursuide the tother, +And not the dead Fryar _Richard_. + +_Av_. Howsoever, +As one repentant for my rashnes past, +And loathe to Imbrewe mee in more Innocent blood, +I fyrst confesse my servant's guilt and myne, +Acquitt the Fryar, and yeeld our persons upp +To the full satisfaction of the lawe. + + _Enter the Lady Averne and her maid Mellesent_. + +_Lady_. Which, noble Sir, the Kinge thus mittigates: +See, I have heare your pardon. In the tyme +That you weare ceas'd with this deepe melancholly +And inward sorrowe for a sinne so fowle, +My self in person posted to the Kinge +(In progresse not farr off), to him related +The passadge of your busines, neather rose I +From off my knees till hee had signd to this. + +_Av_. Th'hast doon the offyce of a noble wyfe. +His grace I'l not despyse, nor thy great love +Ever forgett, and iff way may bee fownd +To make least satisfaction to the dead, +I'l doo't in vowed repentance. + +_Abb_. Which our prayers +In all our best devotions shall assist. + +_Ashb_. All ours, great Syr, to boote. + +_Av_. Wee knowe you well and thanke you. + +_Ashb_. But must nowe +Forsake this place, which wee shall ever blesse +For the greate good that wee have fownd therein, +And hence remoove for _England_. + +_Av_. Not beefore +All your successfull Joyes wee heare related +To comfort our late sorrowes; to which purpose +Wee invite you and your frends to feast with us. +That granted, we will see you safe aboord: +And as wee heare rejoyce in your affayers, +Forget not us in _England_ in your prayers. + + [_Exeunt_. + + +FINIS. + + + + + + +INTRODUCTION TO THE COSTLIE WHORE. + + +_The Costlie Whore_, though not of the highest rarity, is a scarce play. +It has never been reprinted, and thoroughly deserves on its own merits a +place in the present collection. The conduct of the story is simple and +straight-forward; the interest is well sustained; and the poetry has all +the freshness and glow of youth. + +The play bears some indications of having been written in 1613. In I. 2, +where the Duke's brothers are devising schemes for enriching themselves +at the state's expense, occurs the following passage:-- + + "_Al_. I have a commission drawne for making glasse. + Now if the Duke come, as I thinke he will, + Twill be an excellent meanes to lavish wood; + And then the cold will kill them, had they bread. + + _Hat_. The yron Mills are excellent for that. + I have a pattent drawne to that effect; + If they goe up, downe goes the goodly trees; + Ile make them search the earth to find new fire." + +The mention of the "yron Mills" appears to refer to the patent granted +to Clement Daubigny for cutting iron into rods. On 13th March,[159] +1612-13, the Commissioners of Suits forwarded to the Lord Mayor a +petition from Daubigny for the renewal of letters patent. They enclosed +petitions from nailmakers and other smiths, shipmasters, shipowners, and +shipwrights, from which it would appear that the iron imported from +foreign parts was brittle and useless; and being themselves unable to +judge accurately of the quality of iron, they directed the Lord Mayor to +take the evidence of the Master and some of the Wardens of the +Blacksmiths', Ironmongers', and Carpenters' Companies, of the Master and +some of the Brethren of the Trinity House, and of any others that he +might think fit to consult: after hearing the evidence, he was to draw +up a statement of his own views and return Daubigny's petition. On 31st +March the Lord Mayor addressed a letter to the Lords of the Council, in +which he stated that from the evidence of the various witnesses he had +been convinced that the patent would raise the price of iron, hinder the +king in his customs, and further the decay of woods; and he added that +the Flemish iron was for the most part good and tough. It will be +observed that one of the objections raised by the Lord Mayor to the +granting of the patent--namely that a great consumption of wood (as fuel +for smelting the ore) would follow--is specially put forward by the +dramatist. The mention in Alfred's speech of a scheme for glassmaking +seems also to suggest 1613 as the date of authorship; for on 17th +November of that year Sir Jerome Bowes and Sir Edward Zouch procured +patents for making glass.[160] + +There are other allusions that point to 1613. In II. 4, we find--"Make +us for want coyn brasse and passe it current." The first patent for the +coining of brass farthing-tokens was granted on 10th April, 1613, to +John Stanhope, Lord Harrington; and the grant caused general +dissatisfaction.[161] Again: in the same scene there is a reference to +the exportation of broad cloth:--"I, an't please your honour, have a +commoditie of good broad cloth, not past two hundred; may I shippe them +over? and theres a hundred poundes." When we turn to the State Papers we +discover that numerous complaints were made in 1613 about the +exportation of undressed broadcloth. On 3rd March, 1612-13, the King +forwarded to the Lords of the Council a petition from the clothworkers +and dyers that the statutes against the exportation of undressed and +undyed goods should be strictly enforced. I am inclined to think that +these passages, taken collectively, afford strong proof that _The +Costlie Whore_ was written in 1613--twenty years before the date of +publication. + +In I. 2, we have the story of Bishop Hatto and the Rats told briefly but +effectively. Mr. Baring-Gould in his _Curious Myths of the Middle Ages_ +has investigated the sources of the legend with much fulness. He refers +us specially to Wolfius's _Lect. Memorab_., Lavingae, 1600, tom. i. p. +343. From the Stationers' Registers it appears that a ballad of _The +Wrathfull Judgement of God upon Bishop Hatto_ was licensed to H. Carre +on 15th August, 1586. The dramatist has invested the story with the +glamour of that poetical strangeness which is the very salt of such +narrations:-- + + "_Alf_. He did proclaime reliefe unto the poore; + Assembled them unto a private Barne, + And, having lockt the doore, set it on fire, + Saying hee'de rid the countrie of such Mice: + And Mice and Rats have rid him from the World. + + * * * * * + + _Duke_. Could not this palace, seated in the _Rheine_ + In midst of the great River, (to the which + No bridge, nor convay, other then by boats + Was to be had) free him from vermine Rats? + + _Alf_. Against their kind the land Rats took the water + And swomme in little armies to the house, + And, though we drownd and killed innumerable, + Their numbers were like _Hydra's_ heads increasing; + Ruine bred more untill our brother died. + + _Duke_. The house is execrable; Ile not enter. + + _Hat_. You need not feare, my Lord; the house is free + From all resort of Rats; for _at his death, + As if a trumpet sounded a retreat, + They made a kind of murmure and departed_." + + + + +THE COSTLIE WHORE. + +A COMICALL HISTORIE, + + +Acted by the companie of _the Revels_. + + +LONDON Printed by _Augustine Mathewes_, for WILLIAM SHEARES, and HVGH +PERRIE, and are to be sold at their shoppe, in _Brittaines Burse_. 1633. + + + +The Actors Names. + +_Duke of Saxonie_. +_Fredericke_ his sonne. +_Hatto_, | Brothers to the Duke. +_Al[f]rid_, | +_Montano_, kinsman to the Duke. +_Euphrata_, daughter to the Duke. +_Constantine_, a lover of _Euphrata_. +_Otho_, a friend to _Constantine_. +_Alberto_, | Two Lords. +_Reynaldo_, | +_Vandermas_, a Pander. +_Valentia_, the Costly _Whore_. +_Julia_, a Gentlewoman to _Euphrata_. +_Two Maides_. +_Petitioners_. +_Beggers_. +_Servants_. + + + +THE COSTLY _WHORE_. + + +[_Act the First_.] + +[SCENE 1.] + + + _Enter Constantine and Otho_. + +_Constantine_. How do'st thou like the lovely _Euphrata_? + +_Otho_. I did not marke her. + +_Const_. Then thou didst not marke +The fairest _Saxon_ Lady in mine eye +That ever breath'd a maid. + +_Otho_. Your minde now knowne, +Ile say shee is the fairest in the world, +Were she the foulest. + +_Con_. Then thou canst dissemble. + +_Otho_. You know I cannot; but, deare _Constantine_, +I prethee tell me first, what is that Ladie, +That wonder of her sexe, cal'd _Euphrata_? +Whose daughter is she? + +_Const_. I cannot blame thee, _Otho_, +Though thou be ignorant of her high worth, +Since here in _Saxon_ we are strangers both; +But if thou cal'st to minde why we left _Meath_, +Reade the trice[162] reason in that Ladies eye, +Daughter unto the Duke of _Saxonie_, +Shee unto whom so many worthy Lords +Vail'd Bonnet when she past the Triangle, +Making the pavement Ivory where she trode. + +_Otho_. She that so lightly toucht the marble path +That leadeth from the Temple to the presence? + +_Const_. The same. + +_Otho_. Why, that was white before, +White Marble, _Constantine_, whiter by odds +Then that which lovers terme the Ivory hand, +Nay then the Lillie whitenesse of her face. + +_Con_. Come, thou art a cavilling companion: +Because thou seest my heart is drown'd in love, +Thou wilt drowne me too. I say the Ladie's faire; +I say I love her, and in that more faire; +I say she loves me, and in that most faire; +Love doth attribute in Hyperbolies +Unto his Mistris the creation +Of every excellence, because in her +His eies do dreame of perfect excellence.-- +And here she comes; observe her, gentle friend. + + [_Enter Euphrata_. + +_Euph_. Welcome, sweet _Constantine_. + +_Con_. My _Euphrata_. + +_Euph_. Thy _Euphrata_, be thou my _Constantine_. +But what is he? a stranger, or thy friend? + +_Con_. My second selfe, my second _Euphrata_. +If thou beest mine, salute her, gentle _Otho_. + +_Otho_. An humble and a true devoted heart +I tender to you in a mindes chast kisse. + +_Euph_. Welcome to me, since welcome to my friend. + +_Otho_.--A beautiful, an admirable Ladie! +I thinke 'tis fatall unto every friend +Never to love, untill his friend first love, +And then his choice; but sooner will I teare +Out of this brest mine affection with my heart. + +_Euph_. Hearing, sweet _Constantine_, thou wert so nere me, +I came as I were winged to gaze on thee. + +_Con_. And would to heaven there were no bar in time +To hinder me from thy desired sight, +But thousand sutors eyes, do watch my steps; +And harke, I heare some trampling. How now, _Julia_? + + _Enter Julia_. + +_Juli_. Madam, the Lord Montano, spying you +To leave the presence and to enter here, +Hath ever since waited your comming foorth. +And will not be denied untill he see you. + +_Euph_. Of all my sutors, most importunate. + +_Con_. What is he, love? + +_Euph_. Of very noble birth, +But my affection is not tyed to birth. +I must dispense with this kind conference +For some small time, untill I rid him hence. +Therefore within my closet hide thy selfe; +Your friend shall _Julia_ guide into the garden, +Where through a private doore, but seldome us'd, +He may at pleasure leave us and returne. +Deny me not I prethee, _Constantine_; +Thou hast my heart, and would thy birth were such +I need not feare t'avouch thee for my Love. + +_Otho_. Madam, I take my leave. [_Exit Otho_. + +_Con_. Farewell, deare friend, +Returne as soone as may be; farewell Love. [_Exit_. + +_Euph_. Now guide _Montano_ hither. + + _Enter Montano_. + +_Mon_. Gracious Madam, +I have seene the noble Palsgrave, the Prince +Of _Milleine_, and the Palatine of the _Rheine_, +With divers other honorable sutors, +Mounted to ride unto their severall places. + +_Euph_. Of me they took their farewell yesternight. + +_Mon_. What meanes your grace to be so unkind to all? +You drive away good fortune by disdaine. + +_Euph_. Why are you grieving too? + +_Mon_. I am your subject, +The meanest that did humbly seeke your love, +Yet not the meanest in affection; +And I am come to take my farewell too. + +_Euph_. Why, then farewell. + +_Mon_. So short with them that love you? + +_Euph_. Your journey may be great, for ought I know; +And 'tis an argument of little love +To be the hinderer of a traveller. + +_Mon_. My journey, Madame, is unto my house, +Scarce halfe a league hence, there to pine and die, +Because I love such beauteous crueltie. + +_Euph_. God speede you, sir. + +_Mon_. Nay then I will not leave you. +Madam, 'tis thought, and that upon good ground, +You have shrin'd your affection in the heart +Of some (whatere he be) noble or base, +And thats the cause you lightlie censure[163] all. + +_Euph_. Who thinkes it? + +_Mon_. I doe, Madame, and your father. + +_Euph_. It is upon my vowed chastitie. + +_Mon_. What devill made you sweare to chastitie, +Or have you tane that oath onely for a terme? + +_Euph_. A terme, what terme? + +_Mon_. A terme of some seven yeeres, +Or peradventure halfe the number more. + +_Euph_. For terme of life. + +_Mon_. You have sworne, to be forsworne: +He was no well disposed friend of yours +That gave you consaile [_sic_] to forsweare such beautie. +Why, 'tis as if some traveiler had found +A mine of gold, and made no use of it. +For terme of life! Why, then die presently; +So shall your debt to nature be farre lesse, +Your tyranny over man's yeelding heart +Be lesse condemned. Oh, you were made for man, +And living without man to murder men. +If any creature be so fortunate +That lives in grace of your all gracious selfe, +Though I am well perswaded 'tis not I, +I vow by all the rites of vertuous love, +Be he ignoble, of the basest sort, +To please you, Madame, Ile renounce my suite +And be a speciall meane unto your father +To grant your hearts affection, though I die. + +_Euph_. Now, Lord _Montano_, you come neere my heart, +And were I sure that you would keepe your word, +As I am sure you love me by your deedes, +I might perchance deliver you my thoughts. + +_Mon_. By heaven and by your beauteous selfe I will. + +_Euph_. Then, _Constantine_, come forth; behold thy friend. + + _Enter Constantine_. + +_Con_. Madame, what meane you, to reveale our love? + +_Mon_. This is a very stubborne Gentleman. +A Gentleman? a pesant! _Saxonie_, +Affords not one more base. + +_Con_. He does me wrong, +That termes me meaner then a gentleman. + +_Mon_. I tearme thee so. + +_Euph_. Why, how now, Lord _Montano_? +You do forget your oath. + +_Mont_. And you your selfe, +Your Princely father, and the Dukedomes honour, +To chaine your liking to a groome so base. + +_Con_. He lies that calles me groome. + + _Enter Julia_. + +_Ju_. O God, forbeare: +His Excellence your father's comming hither. + +_Mon_. He comes in happie time, to know the cause +Why such great Princes have bin made your scorne. + +_Euph_. What, will you tell him? + +_Mon_. Will I? let me die +Contemn'd of heaven, in publique obloquie, +If I reveale not this lascivious course. + +_Ju_. We are undone. + +_Con_. Hence with this prating Maide. +If thou hast any anger in thy brest +Towards this Lady, turne it all on me. +She is a woman, timerous by her kinde; +I, man-like borne, and beare a man-like minde. + +_Mon_. Ile trie your courage. [_Draw_.[164] + +_Euph_. As thou fear'st my frowne, +As thou hast hope to thrive in thy new choice, +As thou respect'st the favour of the gods, +Welfare in any action thou intends, +Doe not reveale unto my fretfull father +This humble choice that my high birth hath made. + +_Mon_. Why, then forsweare him. + +_Euph_. Sooner set thy feet +Upon my breast, and tread me to the ground. + +_Ju_. As thou art any thing more then a beast, +Doe not procure my Ladie such disgrace. + +_Mon_. Peace, bawde, Ile have no conference with you. + +_Euph_. He cannot hurt me, 'tis my Love I feare. +Although my father be as sterne as warre, +Inexorable like consuming fire, +As jealous of his honour as his crowne, +To me his anger is like _Zephires_ breath +Cast on a banke of sommer violets, +But to my Love like whirlewinde to a boate +Taken in midst of a tumultuous sea. + + _Enter Duke of Saxonie and Fredericke_. + +Alas, he comes! Montano, prethee, peace. +Courage, sweete Love. + +_Con_. I see our love must cease. + +_Euph_. Not if my wit can helpe; it shall goe hard +But Ile prevent the traitor. + +_Mon_. Heare me, my Lord. + +_Euph_. Heare me, my gracious father. + +_Mon_. Heare me, my liege: ther's treason in your Court, +I have found a peasant in the Princesse closet; +And this is he that steales away her honour. + +_Euph_. This villaine, gracious father, 'tis that seekes +To rob me of mine honor, you your daughter. + +_Mon_. Now, as you are a right heroike Prince, +Be deafe unto your daughters faire[165] words. + +_Euph_. Be deafe to him, as you regard your selfe. + +_Duke_. What strange confusion's this that cloyes our hearing? + +_Fred_. Speake, beauteous sister, who hath done thee wrong? + +_Mon_. Her self. + +_Euph_. This traitor. + +_Fre_. Lord _Montano_? + +_Euph_. Hee. + +_Fred_. Villaine, thou dyest. + +_Mon_. Stay, she meanes _Constantine_, +He that I found infolded in her closet, +Reaping the honour which a thousand Lords +Have fail'd in seeking in a lawful course. + +_Con_. He does me wrong, my gracious soveraigne. + +_Ju_. He wrongs my Ladie, an't please your grace. + +_Mon_. Ile tell the trueth. + +_Euph_. Or rather let me tell it. + +_Mon_. Lacivious love is ever full of sleights. + +_Euph_. Villaines, that seeke by treason their desires, +Want no suggestion to beguile a trueth. + +_Mon_. I say, I found this peasant in her closet +Kissing, imbracing, and dishonouring her. + +_Euph_. I say, an't please your gracious Excellence, +I found this Gentleman within my closet, +There set by subornation of this Lord, +And here appointed to dishonor me. +Speake, is't not true? + +_Con_. True, if it please your grace. + +_Duke_. What say you, strumpet? + +_Ju_. Since my Ladie saies so, +I say and't please your Excellence-- + +_Duke_. Speake, woman. + +_Ju_. 'Tis very true. + +_Mon_. O monstrous forgerie! + +_Fre_. O more then falshood to become so smooth +In such a dangerous action! + +_Duke_. This is strange; +_Montano_ seeke the ruine of my daughter! + +_Euph_. Because I would not yeeld unto his suite, +Which he in rapefull manner oft hath sought, +Hee set this Gentleman to doe me shame +Intending by exclaimes[166] to raise the Court, +But that repentance in my waiting Maide +And of his sorrowfull selfe reveal'd the plot. + +_Mon_. O ye gods, how am I over-reacht! + +_Duke_. I know the yong man to be well discended, +Of civill carriage and approved faith, +How ere seduced to this enterprise. + +_Con_. My conscience, would not propagate that plot. + +_Ju_. Nor mine, my Lord, though gold corrupted me. + +_Mon_.--Cleane from the byas! wit, by heaven rare wit! +Ile tell another tale, if they have done. + +_Duke_. What canst thou speake, vild[167] traitor? +Thou seest thou art prevented in thy plot +And therefore desperately coin'st any thing, +But I am deafe to all such stratagems. + +_Mon_. Will you not heare me? + +_Duke_. Forgeries and lies. +My daughters honour is of that high prize +That I preferre it 'fore a traitors braine. +Let it suffice, we know she hath deni'd thee +And some denied (like devills) turne their love +Into excrutiation of themselves +And of the parties whom they have belov'd. +Revenge begins where flatteries doe end; +Being not her husband, thou wilt be no friend. +Thus is thy policy by heaven prevented: +Therefore henceforth we banish thee our Court; +Our Court? our territorie, every place +Wherein we beare the state of Royaltie. +Urge no replie, the fact is plainely prov'd, +And thou art hatefull where thou wert belov'd. + +_Mon_. My gracious Lord-- + +_Duke_. We can afford no grace: +Stay here, and reade thy ruine in my face. + +_Mon_. I goe contented with this heavy doome; +'Twas mine owne seeking. Faire and wise, adiew; +Deceit hath kil'd conceit, you know tis true. + [_Exit_.[168] + +_Fre_. An upright sentence of an act so vilde. + +_Duk_. Remove this waiting virgin from your chamber, +But let this gentleman attend on me. +The best may be deceiv'd by trecherie. + +_Euph_. Then so, my gracious father, may this maid. + +_Duke_. Then let her keep her place; beware of gold, +Honour's too precious to be baselie sold.-- +Now to our dying friend, his grace of _Meath_. +Daughter, prepare you; you shall ride along, +For to that end we came; come, sonne, to horse: +Ere we come there, our friend may prove a coarse. + +_Euph_.--Twas well done both, this action rarely fell; +Where women trie their wits, bad plots prove well. + + [_Exeunt omnes_. + + + +[SCENE 2.] + + + _Enter three Beggers_. + +1. Come away, fellow louse, thou art ever eating. + +2. Have I not neede, that must feede so many +_Cannibals_ as will waite on me whether I will or no? + +3. Heres one in my necke, I would 'twere on thy shoulder. + +1. Keepe it your selfe, I have retainers enow of mine owne. + +2. But whether are you going now? + +1. Why, are you our King, and doe not know that? + +2. Your King? I am a very roguish King and I hav a companie of lowsie +subjects. + + _Enter Hatto and Alfrid conferring_. + +2. But looke about my ragged subjects, here comes somebody. + +1. O the devills; shall we aske them an almes? + +2. Why not? now the rats have eaten up their brother Bishop they will +be more charitable; your vocation, you slaves. + +3. For the Lord sake, be pittifull to a companie of poore men. + +_Hatto_. What cry is this? beggars so neere the doore +Of our deceased brother? whip them hence +Or bring the Mastiffe foorth [to] worry them. +They are lazie drones, 'tis pittie such should live. + +1. I told you, my Lord, how we should find them; whip us! leade the way, +soveraigne, weele none of your whipping. + +_Hat_. Hence with these dogs! what make they neere this house? + +2. He will be eaten with rats too, he looks like a piece of cheese +alreadie. + +_Hat_. You Rogues. + +_Alf_. Good brother, stay your self from wrath; +Thinke on the Bishop and his odious death. + +_Hat_. What odious death, I pray? + +_Alf_. Eaten with Rats, +Whilest he was living, for the wrong he did +Unto the poore, the branches of our God. + +_Hat_. Tis true, and therefore, call the poore againe. +Come hither, friends, I did forget my selfe. +Pray for me, ther's some silver for thy wants. + +2. Now the Lord blesse you and keep your good face[169] from being +Mouse-eaten; wee came thinking wee should have some dole at the Bishops +funerall, but now this shall serve our turne, wee will pray for you +night and day. + +_Hat_. Goe to the backe-gate, and you shall have dole. + +_Om_. O the Lord save thee. + [_Exeunt Beggers_. + +_Hat_. These Beggers pray and curse both in a breath. +Oh wherefore should we fawne upon such curres, +The mice of mankind, and the scorne of earth? + +_Alf_. So said our brother. + +_Hat_. And he was a Bishop, +Had read the Scripture and knew what he said. + +_Alf_. But he hath bought[170] that saying with his death, +With such a loathsome and notorious death +As while the World's a World 'twill speake of _Meath_. + +_Hat_. The Lord Archbishop of _Meath_, and die by Rats! + +_Alf_. He did proclaime reliefe unto the poore; +Assembled them unto a private Barne +And, having lockt the doore, set it on fire, +Saying hee'de rid the countrie of such Mice; +And Mice and Rats have rid him from the World. + +_Hat_. Well, Ile not hurt the poore so publikely, +But privately I'le grinde their very hearts. +Torture them living, and yet have their prayers, +And by such meanes that few or none shall know it. + +_Al_. In such a course _Alfred_ would wind with you; +For though I counsail'd you to be more calme, +Twas not in pittie of their povertie +But to avoide their clamour. To give nothing +Will make them curse you: but to threaten them, +Flie in your face, and spit upon your beard. +No devill so fierce as a bread-wanting heart, +Especially being baited with ill tearmes. +But what course can you take to plague these dogges? + +_Hat_. Why, buy up all the corne and make a dearth, +So thousands of them will die under stalles. + +_Alf_. And send it unto forraine nations +To bring in toies to make the wealthy poore. + +_Hat_. Or make our land beare woad[171] instead of wheate. + +_Al_. Inclose the commons and make white meates deare. + +_Hat_. Turne pasture into Park grounds and starve cattle, +Or twentie other honest thriving courses. +The meanest of these will beggar halfe a Kingdome. + +_Al_. I have a commission drawne for making glasse. +Now if the Duke come, as I thinke he will, +Twill be an excellent meanes to lavish wood; +And then the cold will kill them, had they bread. + +_Hat_. The yron Mills are excellent for that. +I have a pattent[172] drawne to that effect; +If they goe up, downe goes the goodly trees; +Ile make them search the earth to find new fire. + +_Alf_. We two are brothers, and the Duke's our brother. +Shall we be brothers in Commission? +And Ile perswade him to authorize thee +His substitute in _Meath_, when he enjoyes it. + +_Hat_. Death, Ile get thee Regent under him +In _Saxonie_, to oppresse as well as I. +And we will share the profits, live like Kings, +And yet seeme liberall in common things. + +_Al_. Content: what, though the Rats devour'd our brother? +Was not a Prophet murdered by a Lyon? +King _Herod_ died of Lice, wormes doe eate us all; +The Rats are wormes, then let the Rats eate me. +Is the dead course prepar'd? + +_Hat_. Embalm'd and coffin'd; +The Citie keyes delivered to my hands; +We stay but onely for his Excellence. + + _Enter Constantine_. + +_Con_. The Duke is comming, if it please your honors. + +_Al_. And he is welcome; let the trumpets sound. + + [_Second florish_. + + _Enter Duke of Saxon, Euphrata, and Julia_. + +_Hat_. Welcome, thrice welcome, our renowned brother. +Loe, at thy feete the Cittizens of _Meath_, +By us their Agents, do lay downe the keyes, +And[173] by this crownet and sword resign'd +The state Maiestique to your Princely hands, +Discended to you by our brothers death. + +_Duke_. Then with your loves and persons we receive it.-- +Is then our brother the Archbishop dead? + +_Hat_. Too true, my Lord. + +_Euph_. I am sorry for my Uncle. + +_Hat_. And of a death so publique by reporte. + +_Al_. Devour'd by Rats, in strange and wonderous sort. + +_Duke_. Could not this palace seated in the _Rheine_, +In midst of the great River, (to the which +No bridge, nor convay, other then by boats +Was to be had,) free him from vermine Rats? + +_Alf_. Against their kind the land Rats took the water +And swomme in little armies to the house; +And, though we drown'd and kild innumerable, +Their numbers were like _Hydra's_ heads increasing; +Ruine bred more untill our brother died. + +_Duke_. The house is execrable; Ile not enter. + +_Hat_. You need not feare, my Lord; the house is free +From all resort of Rats; for at his death, +As if a trumpet sounded a retreat, +They made a kind of murmure and departed. + +_Duke_. Sure 'twas the hand of heaven, for his contempt +Of his poore creatures.--But what writs are those? + +_Hat_. Commissions (if it please your grace,) for glasse, +For yron Mines, and other needful things. + +_Duke_. Our selfe invested in the government, +The Cities care shall lie upon your care. + +_Hat. Alfred_ our brother may awaite your grace +In _Saxony_, so please you to command. + +_Duke_. We are now but three, and lately have bin seven, +We have cause to love each other; for my part, +Betweene you both we give a brothers heart. +Here or at _Saxonie_, command at pleasure; +I weare the corronet, be yours the treasure. + +_Al_. We thanke our brother. + +_Duke_. Where's my sonne _Fredericke_? + + _Enter Fredericke with a glove_. + +_Fre_. Father, the state of _Meath_ desire your grace +To take the paines to passe unto the Senate. + +_Duke_. What glove is that, son _Fred_., in your hand? + +_Fre_. I found it, if it please your Excellence, +Neere to the state-house: the imbroiderie +Is very excellent, and the fashion rare. + +_Duke_. I have not seene a prettier forme of hand. +Daughter, let's see; is't not too bigge for you? + +_Euph_. Sure 'tis some admirable worke of nature, +If it fit any hand that owes[174] this glove, +If all the rest doe parallel the hand. + +_Duke_. Will it not on? + +_Euph_. Not for a diadem; +Ile trie no longer lest I shame my selfe. + +_Duke_. Try, _Julia_. + +_Ju_. My hand's bigger then my Ladies. + +_Duke_. I cannot tell, but in my minde I feele +A wondrous passion of I know not what. + +_Fre_. The imbroidered glove may be some childs, no womans. + +_Duke_. I should mistrust as much, but that this place +Beares greater compasse then a childish hand. +I must command it. + +_Fre_. Willingly, my Lord. + +_Duke_. Then to the state-house, brothers, leade the way: +First our instalement [_sic_], then a funerall day. + + [_Exeunt Duke and brothers and Fred_. + + _Enter Otho_. + +_Otho_. Yonder she goes, the mirrour of her sexe.-- +Stay, beauteous _Euphrata_. + +_Euph. Otho_! what, _Julia_? + +_Ju_. Here, madam! what's your will? + +_Euph_. Call _Constantine_; +Tell him his deare friend _Otho_ is return'd. + +_Ju_. I will. + +_Otho_. Stay, _Julia_. + +_Euph_. Doe as I bid you, goe. [_Exit Julia_. + +_Otho_. I had rather have a word or twaine with you. + +_Euph_. I have heard him oft enquire for thee his friend, +I have heard him sigh, I have seene him weepe for thee, +Imagining some mischiefe or distresse +Had falne thee since the closets separation. + +_Otho_.--And what a slave am I to wrong this friend! + + _Enter Constantine and Julia_. + +_Con_. Where is he? + +_Ju_. Here. + +_Con_. The welcom'st man alive. +Unkind, how couldst thou stay from me so long? + +_Otho_. I have bin ill at ease, pray pardon me; +But I rejoyce to see my friend so well. + +_Euph_. Some Ladies love hath made him melancholy. + +_Otho_. Shee hath read the letter that I lately sent her +In a pomegranat, by those words I hope. + +_Con_. Why speake you not? is't love or melancholy? + +_Otho_. If upon love my grief is melancholy? + +_Con_. Ile have the best Phisitians here in _Meath_ +Assay by art to cure that maladie. + +_Euph_. Gainst mellancholy minds your onely Phisick +Our Saxon doctors hold that principle. +Now I remember you did lately send me +A choice pomegranate; fetch it, _Julia_. +Some of those graines well stir'd in _Gascoine_ wine +Is present remedie. + +_Otho_. Madam, Ile none: +Of all fruits, that I hate. + +_Euph_. And commended it +So highly by the messenger that brought it! + +_Con_. Twas well remembred, you shall take a graine. + +_Otho_. You will but vexe me. + +_Con_. So his melancholly +Doth make him froward with his dearest friend. + + _Enter Julia with the pomegranate_. + +Tis well done, _Julia_, quickely cut it up; +And bring a cup of wine, or let me doo't. + +_Otho_. I see I shall be plagu'd with mine owne wit; +Being asham'd to speake, I writ my minde.-- +Were you my friends, you would not martyr me +With needlesse phisicke; fie upon this trash, +The very sight is loathsome. + +_Con_. Take it up: +But let me see, what letter's that that dropt? +Came it from you, or from the _Spanish_ fruit? + +_Ju_. Tis all the graines that the pomegranate had. + +_Con_. Then theres some trechery within these graines: +Ile breake it up. +And tis directed to my _Euphrata_. + +_Euph_. What may the tenure be? I pray thee read it. + + [_He opens the letter & reads_. + +_Otho_. O fall upon me some wind-shaken turret +To hide me from the anger of my friend, +O from his frowne! because he is my friend. +Were he an enemie, I would be bold; +But kindnes makes this wound. O, this horror! +The words of friends, are stronger then their power. + +_Con_. Withdraw, good _Julia_. + [_Exit Julia_. + +_Euph_. Pray, what is it, love? + +_Con_. Tis love indeed to thee, but to my heart +Every loose sentence is a killing dart. +I brought this _Gyges_[175] to my hearts delight +And he hath drown'd his senses with the sight. +Except thy selfe, all things to him were free: +_Otho_, thou hast done me more then injurie; +Well maist thou fixe thy eye upon the earth, +This action sith[176] breedes a prodigious birth: +It is so monstrous, and against all kinde, +That the lights splendor would confound thy minde. + +_Otho_. I have offended, prethee pardon me. + +_Con_. What cause did move thee? + +_Otho_. Her all conquering sight. + +_Con_. Couldst thou usurpe upon my well known right? + +_Otho_. Thinke, I am flesh and blood, and she is faire. + +_Con_. Thinke how I love thee. + +_Otho_. There proceeds my care. + +_Con_. Our amitie hath bin of ancient dayes, +During which time wrong'd I thee any wayes? + +_Otho_. Never. + +_Con_. But rather I have done thee good. + +_Otho_. I grant you have, O rather shed my blood +Then number the kind deedes betweene us past. + +[_Con_.] For this unkindnesse, here I love my last. + +_Euph_. He doth repent, and will renounce his suite. + +_Otho_. I doe renounce it. + +_Con_. O thou canst not do't. + +_Otho_. Suffer me stay a while in her faire sight, +'Twill heal my wound and all love banish quite. + +_Con_. The sight of the belov'd makes the desire, +That burnt but slowly, flame like sparkling fire. +As thou dost love me, take thee to some place +Where thou maist nere see her, nor I thy face. + +_Otho_. By what is deere betwixt us, by our selves, +I vow hencefoorth ten thousand deaths to prove +Then be a hinderance to such vertuous love. + +_Con_. Breake heart, tis for thy sake. + +_Otho_. When I am dead +O then forget that I haue injured. + +_Con_. O hell of love! + +_Otho_. Or rather hell of friends! + +_Con_. Firmely till they love. + +_Otho_. Then thus all friendship ends. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + + +_Actus Secundus_. + +[SCENE 1.] + + + _Enter Duke, Fredericke, Hatto, and Alfred_. + +_Hat_. Good brother, heare some Musicke, twill delight you. + +_Al_. Ile call the Actors, will you see a play? + +_Fre_. Or, gracious father, see me runne the race +On a light footed horse, swifter then winde. + +_Duke_. I pray forbeare. + +_Al_. This moode will make you mad, +For melancholy ushers franticke thoughts. + +_Hat_. It makes hot wreaking blood turne cold and drie, +And drithe and coldnesse are the signes of death. + +_Duke_. You doe torment me. + +_Fred_. Is it anything +That I have done, offends your grace? + +_Hat_. Or comes this hidden anger from my fault? + +_Alf_. Heres none but gladly would resigne his life +To doe you pleasure, so please you to command. + +_Duke_. Ifaith you are too [_sic_] blame to vexe me thus. + +_Hat_. Then grounds this sorrow on your brothers death? + +_Fred_. Or rather on the glove I lately found. + +_Duke_. A plague upon the glove, whats that to me? +Your prating makes me almost lunatike. +As you respect my welfare, leave me leave me. +The sooner you depart, the sooner _I_ +Shall finde some meanes to cure my maladie. + +_Fred_. Our best course is to be obedient. + + [_Exeunt all but the Duke_. + +_Duke_. Farewell. +Was ever slave besotted like to me! +That Kings have lov'd those that they never saw +Is nothing strange, since they have heard their praise; +Birds that by painted grapes have bin deceiv'd +Had yet some shadow to excuse their error; +_Pigmalion_ that did love an Ivory Nimph +Had an _Idea_ to delight his sence; +The youth that doted on _Minerva's_[177] picture +Had some contentment for his eye; [_soft Musique_. +But love, or rather an infernall hagge, +Envying _Saxons_ greatnes and his joyes, +Hath given me nothing but a trifling glove, +As if by the proportion of the case +Art had the power to know the jewels nature. +Or Nimph, or goddesse, woman, or faire devill, +If anything thou art, within my braine +Draw thine owne picture, let me see thy face: +To doate thus grossely, is a grosse disgrace. [_Musique within_. +I heare some Musique: O ye Deities, +Send you this heavenly consort[178] from the spheares +To recreate a love-perplexed heart? +The more it sounds, the more it refresheth. +I see no instruments, nor hands that play; +And my deare brothers, durst not be so bold. +'Tis some celestiall rapture of the minde, +No earthlie harmonic is of this kinde. +Now it doth cease: speake, who comes there? + + _Enter Fredericke, Alfred, and Hatto_. + +_Fred_. Father. + +_Duke_. From whence proceeds the Musicke that I heard? + +_Fred_. The beauteous and the famous Curtezan, +Allyed unto the banished _Montano_, +Admir'd _Valentia_, with a troope of youths +This day doth keepe her yeerely festivall +To all her suters, and this way she past +Unto her Arbor, when the Musique plaide. + +_Duke_. Admir'd _Valentia_! Curtezans are strange +With us in _Germanie_; except her selfe, +Being a _Venetian_ borne and priviledg'd, +The state allowes none here. + +_Fred_. Twere good for _Meath_ +She were unpriviledgd and sent to _Venice_. + +_Al_. Of all the faces that mine eye beheld +Hers is the brightest. + +_Duke_. Is she then so faire? + +_Hat_. O beyond all comparison of beautie. + +_Fred_. Upon her hand, +Father, I saw the fellow to your glove. + +_Duke_. Then let it be restor'd. +What, should a Prince retaine a strumpets glove?-- +O ye eternall powers, am I insnar'd +With the affection of a common trull!-- +Wheres your commissions, that you would have sign'd? +'Tis time I had a president in _Saxonie_. +Receive our signet, and impresse them straight; +Ile remaine here, in _Meath_, some little time. +Brother, have care my Dukedome be well rul'd; +Here I put over my affaires to you. +My sonne I leave unto the joyes of youth; +Tis pittie that his minde should be opprest +So soone with care of governments. +Goe to your pleasures, seeke your sister foorth, +Send _Constantine_ to us; so leave me all, +I am best accompanied with none at all. [_Exeunt_. + _Manet Duke_. +Either the Plannets, that did meete together +In the grand consultation of my birth, +Were opposite to every good infusion, +Or onely _Venus_ stood as retrograde; +For, but in love of this none-loving trull, +I have beene fortunate even since my birth. +I feele within my breast a searching fire +Which doth ascend the engine of my braine, +And when I seeke by reason to suppresse +The heate it gives, the greaters the excesse. +I loath to looke upon a common lip +Were it as corral as _Aurora's_ cheeke +Died with the faire virmillion [of the] sunne. +O but I love her, and they say she is faire.-- +Now _Constantine_. + + _Enter Constantine_. + +_Con_. Your grace did send for me. + +_Duke_. Lend me your habit in exchange of mine, +For I must walk the Citie for a purpose. + +_Con_. With all my heart, my habit and my selfe. + +_Duke_. In any case, watch at the privie chamber. +If any ask for me say I am not well, +And though it be my sonne, let him not enter. + +_Con_. I will. + +_Duke_. Be carefull, gentle _Constantine_. +Now, faire _Valentia, Saxon_ to thy bower +Comes like a _Jove_ to raine a golden shower. + [_Exit_. + +_Con_. Prosper, kind Lord, what ere the action be; +Counsailes of Princes should be ever free. + + [_Exit_. + + + +[SCENE 2.] + + + _Enter Valentia and Montano_. + +_Va_. Torches and Musique there! the room's too darke. + +_Mon_. Prethee, Neece, +Abandon this lascivious unchaste life; +It is the onely blemish of our house; +Scandall unto our name; a Curtezan! +O what's more odious in the eares of men? + +_Val_. Then why doe men resort to Curtezans, +And the best sort? I scorne inferiour groomes, +Nor will I deign[179] to draw aside my maske +To any meaner then a Noble man. +Come,[180] can you dance? a caper and a kisse: +For every turne Ile fold thee in my armes, +And if thou fal'st, although[181] a-kin we be +That thou maist fall[182] soft, Ile fall under thee. +Oh for the lightnesse of all light heel'd girles, +And I would touch the Ceeling with my lips! +Why art thou sad, _Montano_? + +_Mon_. On just cause, +You know I am banish't from my natiue countrey. + +_Val_. This citie is _Meath_, thou art of _Saxonie_. + +_Mon_. But this belongs unto the _Saxons_ Duke, +By the decease of the departed Bishop. + +_Val_. Feare not, thou art as safe within my house +As if perculliz'd in a wall of brasse. +Wheres _Vandermas_? + + _Enter Vandermas_. + +_Van_. Madam, did you call? + +_Mon_. What noble man is that, a sutor to you? + +_Val_. An excellent Pander, a rare doore-keeper.[183] + +_Mon_. I had thought he had bin a gentleman at least. + +_Val_. Because of his attire? + +_Mon_. True. + +_Val_. O the attire +In these corrupted daies is no true signe +To shew the gentleman; peasants now weare robes, +In the habilments of noblemen. +The world's grown naught, such judgement then is base, +For Hares and Asses weare the lion's case.[184] + +_Mon_. 'Tis very costly and exceeding rich. + +_Val_. Ritches to me are like trash to the poore, +I have them in abundance; gold's my slave, +I keep him prisoner in a three-fold chest +And yet his kindred daily visit me. + +_Mon_. Lord, how diligent +Is this rich clothed fellow. + +_Val_. Were he proud +And should but dare to stand still when I call, +I'de run him th[o]rough with a killing frowne. + +_Mon_. Why then belike his service is for love. + +_Val_. Why so are all the servants that attend mee. +They keepe themselves in satin, velvets, gold, +At their owne charges, and are diligent +Daies, moneths, and yeeres, to gaine an amorous smile. +Looke on my face with an indifferent eye, +And thou shalt finde more musicke in my lookes +Then in _Amphions_ Lute or _Orpheus_ Harpe; +Mine eye consists of numbers like the soule, +And if there be a soule tis in mine ey; +For, of the harmony these bright starres make, +I comprehend the formes of all the world; +The story of the Syrens in my voyce +I onely verified, for Millions stand +Inchanted when I speake, and catch my words +As they were orient pearle to adorn their eares; +_Circe_ is but a fable, I transforme +The vertuous, valiant, and the most precise, +Into what forme of minde my fancie please. +Thou might'st bee proud, great Lord, of my abundance, +For in this beautie I shall more renowne +Our noble progenie then all the pennes +Of the best Poets that ere writ of men. +Unto your health a health! let Musique sound, [_Musick_. +That what I taste in Musique may be drown'd. +So fill more wine, we use to drinke up all; +Wine makes good blood and cheeres the heart withal. + +_Van_. Madam, at such time as I heard you call, +A gentleman, it seemes of good discent, +Humblie did crave accesse unto your honor. + +_Valen_. What did he give? + +_Van_. A brace of bags of gold. + +_Valen_. He shall have libertie to enter straight. +But first inrich the chamber with perfumes; +Burne choice _Arabian_ Drugs more deare then +Waters distil'd out of the spirit of Flowers; +And spread our costly Arras to the eye. +Myself sufficiently doe shine in jems; +Where such faire coated Heraulds doe proceed, +It seemes he is honorable and of noble fame. + +_Mon_. Shall I behold this sutor? + +_Valen_. At the full, +At pleasure passe through every spacious Roome. +Be he a Prince, Ile know his high discent +Or proudly scorne to give him his content. +What drum is that? + +_Van_. A Maske, sent by a friend. + +_Valen_. Belike our self must know the mysterie; +Tell them we are prepar'd to see the Maske, +And bid the other noblemen come neere. +Thus am I hourely visited by friends; +Beautie's a counsellor that wants no fee. +They talke of circles and of powerfull spells, +Heeres heavenly art that all blacke art excells. + +_Mon_. Ile walke into the farther gallery. + + _Enter Duke_. + +_Valen_. Sir, you are welcome what so ere you be; +I guesse your birth great by your bounteous fee. + +_Duke_. Your humble servant, bound by a sweet kisse. + +_Valen_. I give you freedome, gentle Sir, by this. + [_He whispers her_. +I know your mind; first censure of the sport, +Then you and I will enter _Venus_ Court. + +_Duke_. More then immortall, O more then divine, +That such perfection, should turne Concubine. + +_Mon_. That voice is like unto the _Saxon Dukes_. +I feare he hath heard I liv'd here in this place, +And he is come to doe me more disgrace. +_Montano_, hide thyself till he be gone; +His daughter thirsts for my destruction. + [_Exit Mont_. + +_Val_. Come sit by me, the Maskers are at hand. + + _Enter Maske_. + +Where are my Maides, to helpe to make the dance? + + _Enter 2 Maids. + + They dance, Valentia with them; they whisper to have + her play at dice and stake on the drum_. + +_Valen_. What, shall we have a Mumming? heres my Jewell. + + [_Play on the drum head_. + +_Duke_. Thou art a jewell most incomparable.-- +Malicious heaven, why from so sweete a face +Have you exempt the mind adorning grace? + + [_They stake and play_. + + _She wins, the drum strikes up_. + +_Val_. More gold, for this is mine, I thanke yee, dice. + +_Duke_. And so are all that doe behold thy beautie.-- +Were she as chaste, as she is outward bright, +Earth would be heaven, and heaven eternal night. +The more I drinke of her delicious eye, +The more I plunge into captivitie. + + _She wins, strike up_. + +_Valen_. Have I wonne all? then take that back agen. +What, scorne my gift? I see you are a gentleman. +No, is't not possible that I may know +Unto whose kindnesse this great debt I owe? +Well, Ile not be importunate, farewell; +Some of your gold let the torch-bearers tell. + +_Duke_. Beautious _Madona_, do you know these galants? + +_Valen_. I guesse them of the Duke of _Saxons_ Court. + +_Duke_.--My subjects, and so many my corrivalls +O every slave is grac't before his Prince. + +_Valen_. Are you not well sir, that your colour failes? + +_Duke_. If I be sicke, 'tis onely in the minde: +To see so faire, so common to all kinde; +I am growne jealous now of all the world.-- +Lady, how ere you prize me, without pleasure +More then a kisse, I tender you this treasure; +O what's a mint spent in such desire +But like a sparke that makes a greater fire?-- +She must be made my Dutches, there it goes; +And marrying her, I marry thousand woes.-- +Adiew, kind Mistresse;--the next newes you heare +Is to sit crown'd in an Imperiall chair.[185] + +_Valen_. Either the man dislikes me, or his braine +Is not his owne, to give such gifts in vaine, +But 'tis the custome in this age to cast +Gold upon gold, to encourage men to waste. +Lightly it comes, and it shall lightly flie; +Whilst colours hold, such presents cannot die. + + [_Exeunt omnes_.[186] + + + +[SCENE 3.] + + + _Enter Reinaldo, Alfred, and Albert_. + +_Alb_. But this is strange, that I should meet your[187] honour +So farre from Court; pray whither were you riding? + +_Alf_. Unto your mannor; heard you not the newes? + +_Alb_. What newes? + +_Alf_. This morning, by the breake of day, +His excellence sent to me by a post +Letters, by which the pillars of the state +Should be assembled to a Parliament, +Which he intends, my Lords, to hold in _Meath_. + +_Alb_. When, if it please your honor? + +_Alf_. Instantly, +With all the haste that winged time can make. + +_Albert_. Sooner the better; tis like the realmes affaires +Are of some weight. + +_Alb_. I will bee there to night, +And so I take my leave. + +_Reinal_. We take our leaves. + + [_Exit Albert and Reinaldo_. + +_Alf_. Farewell, my honor'd friend.-- +There is within my braine a thousand wiles +How I may heape up riches; O the sight, +Of a gold shining Mountaine doth exceede: +Silver is good, but in respect of gold +Thus I esteeme it. + + [_Exit_. + + + +[SCENE 4.] + + + _Enter Hatto, with three petitioners_. + +_Hat_. How now, my friends, what are you? + +1. Poore petitioners. + +_Hat_. Stand farther then, the poore is as unpleasing +Unto me as the plague. + +2. An't please your good Lordship, I am a Merchant, and gladly would +convay a thousand quarters of wheate and other graine over the sea; and +heres a hundred pounds for a commission. + +_Hat_. Thou art no beggar, thou shalt ha't, my friend; +Give me thy money. + +3. I, an't please your honour, have a commoditie of good broad cloth, +not past two hundred; may I shippe them over? and theres a hundred +poundes. + +_Hat_. Thou shalt have leave. + +1. Although I seeme a poore petitioner, +My Lord, I crave a warrant to transport[188] +A hundred Cannons, fiftie Culverings, +With some slight armours, halberts, and halfe pikes; +And theres as much as any of the rest. + +_Hat_. Away, _Cannibal_! wouldst thou ship ordnance? +What though we send unto the foes our corne +To fatten them, and cloth to keepe them warme, +Lets not be so forgetfull of our selves +As to provide them with knives to cut our throates: +So I should arme a thiefe to take my purse. +Hast thou no other course of Merchandize? +Thou shouldst get gold, twill yeeld thee ten in the hundred +On bare exchange, and raise the price with us; +Make us for want coyn brasse and passe it currant +Untill we find profit to call it in. +There are a thousand waies to make thee thrive +And Ile allow of all, bee it nere so bad, +Excepting guns to batter downe our houses. + +1. Letters[189] of Mart I humblie then intreate, +To cease on Rovers that doe secure the seas. + +_Hat_. And on our friends too, if thou canst do't cleanlie. +Spare none, but passe it very closely; +We will be loath to sift thy Piracie, +But open eare to heare what they [thou?] complaine. +Hast thou a Letter? + +1. Ready drawne my Lord. +And heres a brace of hundred pounds for you. + +_Hat_. 'Tis very well; I thinke I shall be rich +If dayly tenants pay me rent thus fast. +Give me your licenses, they shall bee seal'd. +About an houre hence, here attend our pleasure. + +_Omnes_. We thanke your Lordship. + [_Exeunt petiti_. + +_Hat_. O vild catterpillers, +And yet how necassarie for my turne! +I have the Dukes seale for the Citie _Meath_, +With which Ile signe their warrants. +This corne and twentie times as much +Alreadie covertly convai'd to _France_, +And other bordering Kingdomes neere the sea, +Cannot but make a famine in this land; +And then the poore, like dogs, will die apace. +Ile seeme to pittie them, and give them almes +To blind the world; 'tis excellent policie +To rid the land of such, by such device. +A famine to the poore is like a frost +Unto the earth, which kills the paltry wormes +That would destroy the harvest of the spring. +As for the which, I count them painefull men +Worthy to enjoy what they can get: +Beggars are trash, and I esteeme them so; +Starve, hang, or drowne themselves, I am alive; +Loose all the world, so I have wit to thrive. +But I must to the Parliment, and then +Ile have a clause to beggar some rich men. + + [_Exit_. + + + + +_Actus Tertius_. + +[SCENE 1.] + + + _Enter Duke, Fredericke, Constantine, Reinaldo, + Alberto, Alfrid, and amongst them Hatto shuffles in_. + +_Alberto_. Princes and pillars of the _Saxon_ State. + +_Duke_. You are the elected, speake for the Court.-- +Stay, Lord _Alberto_, we usurpe your office: +Who had the charge to fetch _Valentia_? + +_Con_. I, gracious Lord; and when I gave the charge, +A sudden feare, by palenesse, was displai'd +Upon her rosie cheeke; the crimson blood, +That like a robe of state did beautifie +The goodly buildings with a two fold grace, +From either side shrunke downewards to her heart +As if those summons were an adversarie +And had some mighty crime to charge her with. +Millions of thoughts were crowded in her braines: +Her troubled minde her abrupt words describ'd; +She did accuse her selfe without accusers, +And in the terrour of a soule perplext +Cry'd out, 'the Duke intends to cease my goods +Cause I am noted for a Concubine.' +I did replie such comfort as beseemes, +But comfortlesse I brought her to the Court. + +_Duke_. Then she attends our pleasure. + +_Con_. Mightie Lord, +In the next Roome. + +_Duke_. You are careful, _Constantine_. +Conduct her in, and, Lords, give mee your thoughts: +What thinke ye wee intend to _Valentia_? + +_Alf_. Her selfe hath read my sentence in the speech +That _Constantine_ delivered to your grace. + +_Fred_. What should my noble father thinke +But that she is a strumpet, and in that +A blemish to the state wherein she lives? + +_Hat_. She is rich in jewells, and hath store of treasure +Got by the slavery of that choice beautie +Which otherwise admires her to the world. + +_Alb_. Confiscate all her goods unto the Crown, +Thereby disburdening many heavie taxes +Impos'd upon the commons of the land. + +_Hat_. Publique example make her to all such; +Offences in that kind are growne too common, +Lesse shamelesse never[190] were the beautious dames +Of _Meath_ and _Saxony_ then[191] the sufferance +Hath at this instant made them: good my Lord, +Enact some mighty penaltie for lust. + +_Duke_. How wide these Archers shoote of the faire aime +Of my affection! Bring _Valentia_ in. + + _Enter Valentia, usher'd by Constantine_. + +_Valen_. The duetie that in generall I doe owe +Unto your excellence and to this Court, +I pay at once upon my bended knee. + +_Duke_. Behold her, Princes, with impartiall eyes, +And tell me, looks she not exceeding faire? + +_Hat_. If that her mind coher'd with her faire face, +Shee were the worthy wonder of this age. + +_Alfred_. I never saw a beautie more divine +Grossely deform'd by her notorious lust. + +_Fred_. Fairnesse and wantonnesse have made a match +To dwell together, and the worst spoyles both. + +_Albert_. Shee is doubly excellent in sin and beauty. + +_Duke_. That they speake truth my conscience speaks, +But that I love her that I speak my self. +Stand up, divine deformitie of nature, +Beautious corruption, heavenly see[m]ing evill, +What's excellent in good and bad, stand up; +And in this Chaire, prepared for a Duke, +Sit, my bright Dutchesse, I command thee, sit. +You looke, I am sure, for some apologie +In this rash action; all that I can say +Is that I love her, and wil marry her. + +_Fred_. How, love a _Lais_, a base _Rodophe_, +Whose body is as common as the sea +In the receipt of every lustfull spring? + +_Albert_. The elements of which these orbes consists, +Fire, ayre, and water, with the ground[192] we tread, +Are not more vulgar, common, popular, +Then her imbracements. + +_Alberto_. To incheyne the thoughts +Unto this semblance[193] of lascivious love +Were to be married to the broad rode[194] way +Which doth receiue the impression of every kind. + +_Fred_. Speech doth want modesty to set her forth +In her true forme, base and contemptible; +The very hindes and peasants of the land +Will bee Corrivals with your excellence +If you espouse such a notorious Trull. + +_Albert_. We shall have lust a virtue in the Court, +The wayes of sinne be furthered by reward, +Panders and Parasites sit in the places +Of the wise Counsellors and hurry all. + +_Fred_. Father, as you are princely in your birth, +Famous in your estate, belov'd of all, +And (which ads greatest glory to your greatnesse,) +Esteemed[195] wise, shew not such open[196] folly +Such palpable, such grosse, such mountaine folly; +Be not the By-word of your neighbour Kings, +The scandall of your Subjects, and the triumph +Of _Lenos, Macrios_,[197] and the hatefull stewes. +Why speake you not, that are his brother friends, +You that doe weare the Liveries of time, +The silver cognizance of gravitie? +Shall none but young me schoole the reverent [_sic_] old? +Birds teach the Dam, stars fill the glorious spheares +Of the all lightning Sunne? speake whilst you may, +Or this rash deede will make a fatall day. + +_Duke_. You have said too much, encourage none to speake +More then have spoke[n]; by my royall blood, +My mind's establisht, not to be withstood. +Those that applaud my choyse give us your hands, +And helpe to tye these sacred nuptiall bands. + +_Hat_. What likes your excellence, likes me well. + +_Alfred_. And I agree to what my Soveraigne please. + +_Fred_. These are no brothers, they are flatterers, +Contrary to themselves in their owne speech. +You that doe love the honour of your Prince, +The care and long life of my father, +The hereditary right deriv'd to me, +Your countries Welfare, and your owne renowne, +Lend me your hands to plucke her from the throne. + +_Valen_. Princes, forbeare, I doe not seeke the match; +It is his highnesse pleasure I sit here, +And if he love me 'tis no fault of mine. +Behoves me to be thankefull to his Grace, +And strive in virtue to deserve this place. + +_Duke_. Thou speak'st too mildly to these hare braind youthes. +He that presumes to plucke her from the chaire +Dyes in the attempt, this sword shall end all care. + +_Fred_. Why, shee's notorious. + +_Duke_. But she will amend. + +_Fred_. 'Tis too farre growne to have a happy end. + +_Duke_. The dangerous the disease, greater's the cure. + +_Fred_. Princes may seeke renowne by wayes more sure, +Shee is dishonest. + +_Duke_. Honestie's unseene; +Shee's faire, and therefore fit to be a Queene. + +_Fred_. But vertue is to be preferd ere lust. + +_Duke_. Those that are once false, shall we ne're trust? + +_Fred_. Wise men approve their actions by the tryall. + +_Duke_. I say she is mine in spight of all deniall; +Bring me the Crowne. + +_Fred_. To set upon her head? +Friends, draw your swords, first strike the strumpet dead. + +_Duke_. My guard, my guard! + +_Alfred_. For shame, put up your swords. + +_Fred_. For shame, great Rulers, leave your flattering words. + +_Albert_. 'Tis madnesse in the King and worse in you. + +_Hat_. Though you prove traytors, we'll not prove untrue. + +_Fred_. Will you dismisse this Strumpet to the stewes, +Or our allegance in this act refuse? + +_Duke_. Doe what you dare, the election still shall stand. + +_Fred_. Woe and destruction then must rule the land. +Come, Lord _Rinaldo_, valiant _Alberto_, come; +We have friends enough to grace a warlike Drum. [_A shout within_. +Hearke how the Commons doe applaud our cause. +Lascivious Duke, farewell, father, oh vilde! +Where Queanes are mothers, _Fredericke_ is no child. + + [_Exeunt_. + +_Duke_. My guard pursue them, and alive or dead +Cut off the cause by which these cries are bred. +Come, my faire Dutchesse; first unto the Church, +There sollemnize our nuptials; then unto our armes: +A little rough breath overbeares these stormes. + + [_Exeunt. Manet Alfred & Hatto_. + +_Alfred_. The Duke's besotted. Now we are secure; +This match makes well for us; we may command +And on them lay the abuses of the land. + +_Hat_. Excellent good; we are like to have warres indeed, +But in the meane the poore will starve for bread. +Wee must share proffits, howsoere things goe. +Winner or looser, neither is our foe; +For mutually we'll beare our selues in all +Or taking part leane to the strongest wall. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +[SCENE 2.] + + + _Enter Constantine and Euphrata_. + +_Euph_. My father married to a Concubine! +Then he will pardon though I marry thee; +And howsoe'r, about it presently, +The rather for _Montano_ is repealde, +Because of his alliance to _Valentia_. + +_Con_. I am ready, gentle love, and glad in mind +That my faire _Euphrata_ will prove so kind. + +_Euph_. Come my deare _Constantine_, performe this right [_sic_], +And arme in arme thus will we sleepe to night. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +[SCENE 3.] + + + _Enter Fredericke, Rinaldo, and Alberto, with Drum, + Colours, and Souldiers_. + +_Fred_. You that are carefull of your countries weale, +Fellow compere, Supporter of the State, +Let us imbrace in steele, our cause is good. +What minde so base that would not shed his blood +To free his countrey from so great an ill +As now raignes in it by lascivious will? +Our[198] friends to warre and, for my part, +Ere lust beare sway, Ile gladly yeeld my heart. + +_Alberto_. I heare the Duke is strong. + +_Fred_. Suppose him so, +And be advis'd strongly to meete the foe. +I had rather, you should think him ten thousand strong +Then find it so to our destruction. +An enemy thought many and found few, +When our first courage failes, gives us a new. + + [_Alarum_. + +_Alberto_. That's the Dukes Drum. + +_Fred_. They are welcome to their death, +The ground they tread on covers them with earth. + + [_Exeunt_. + + _Enter Fredericke and Duke severall_. + +_Fred_. The enemy sends forth a Champion +To encounter me, I heard him use my name; +The honour of the combate shall be mine. + +_Duke_. Come, boy, retreate not, only I intend +With thy lifes losse this bloody warre to end. + +_Fred_. My naturall father in my blood I feele, +Passion more powerfull then that conquering steele. + +_Duke_. Why dost thou pause, base boy? thy Soveraigne's come, +To inter the life I gave thee in this tombe. + +_Fred_. My father, oh my father! nature, be still +That I may have my fame, or he his will. + +_Duke_. What, dost thou feare thy cause? is't now so evill? + +_Fred_. I am possest with a relenting devill; +Legions of kinde thoughts have supriz'd my sense +And I am too weake to be mine owne defence. + +_Duke_. Thou art a coward. + +_Fred_. And you make me so, +For you come charm'd like a dishonest[199] foe. +You have conferr'd with spirits, and tane their aydes +To make me weake, by them I am betraid, +My strength drawne from me by a slight; +What other meanes could hold me from the fight? + +_Duke_. I have no spells about me. + +_Fred_. 'Tis untrue, +For naturall Magique you have brought with you, +And such an exorcisme in your name +That I forbeare the combate to my shame. +But that I am no coward, from your host +Elect two of the valiantst that dare most; +Double that number, treble it, or more, +I have heart at will t'encounter with a score. +Or had your selfe come in a strange attire, +One of us twaine had lost his living fire. + + _Enter[200] Montano, Alfred, Vandermas, Valentia, and others_. + +_Duke_. Ile trie your valour; see, audacious boy, +Thou art incompast with a world of foes +_Montano, Alfred, Vandermas_, and all: +My Dutchesse comes, too, to behold thy fall. +If thou hast spirit enough, now crave her ayd, +Never was poore ventrous souldier worse apayd. + [_Exit Duke_. + +_Fred_. My[201] desire now from the skie of starres. +Dart all your Deitie, since I am beset, +In honourable wise pay[202] all Natures debt. + + _They fight, Fredericke beats them off and courses + the Dutchesse over the stage_. + + + + +_Actus Quartus_. + +[SCENE 1.] + + + _Enter [at one door] Duke, Montano, Valentia, Hatto, and Alfred. + + Drumme, Colours, and Souldiers. [At another door + enter Frederick, Rinaldo, Alberto, with soldiers_.] + +_Duke_. Our anger long agoe, renowned Lords, +Is satisfied in faire _Valentias_ love. +Behold our proud sonne and these traiterous crew +That dares confront us in the field of _Mars_. + +_Valen_. You have been too patient, my beloved Lord, +In calming these tumultuous jarring spirits. +Scourge them with steele, and make the proudest know +Tis more then death to have their Prince their foe. + +_Mon_. Bloody constraints beseemes where dutie failes, +And, oratory ceasing, force prevailes. + +_Hat_. Peace would doe better, so it pleas'd your sonne. + +_Fred_. In her allurements first [the strife] begun; +Banish her from the land, and Ile resigne. + +_Duke_. Learne thine owne dutie, traitor, I know mine. + +_Albert_. Then there's no banishment? + +_Duke_. None but by death; +Thy head is forfeit for that daring breath. + +_Alfred_. Submit, degenerate and presumptuous Lord. + +_Albert_. When we are ignorant to weild a sword. + +_Fred_. Never shall noble knee bend to this ground, +As long as that vile strumpet liveth crownd. + +_Duke_. I cannot stay to heare my love deprav'd. +In few words is it peace, or shall we fight +Till our deepe wounds shall dampe the heavenly light, +Make the ayre purple with the reaking gore? + +_Fre_. Fight, whilst life serves you, we will nere give ore; +The grasse greene pavement shall be drownd in blood, +And yet Ile wade to kill her in the flood. + +_Duke_. Alarum, Drum! madnesse is on their side, +All vertuous counsell is by them defied. +Upon our part strike Drums, Trumpets proclaime +Death most assur'd to those that love their shame. + + _Alarum, fight lustily, and drive away the Duke; + Fredericke pursues Valentia over the stage and + takes her; a Retreate sounded_. + + _Enter at one doore the Duke, Mon., Hatto, and + Alfred, with Drum and Colours.--Enter at the + other doore Fredericke leading Valentia prisoner, + Rinaldo and Alberto with Drum and Colours_. + +_Duke_. Why doe traitors sound retreate so soone? + +_Fred_. Behold the cause. + +_Duke_. _Valentia_ prisoner? + +_Fred_. The firebrand of this tumultuous warre, +The originall from whence your subjects bloud +Flowes in abundance on[203] this spatious playn. + +_Valen_. And what of all this? + +_Fred_. That thy lifes too meane +To satisfie the unworthiest of the Campe +For the effusion of a loyall drop. + +_Duke_. Meanes _Fredericke_ then, to kill his fathers heart In faire +_Valentia's_ death? + +_Fred_. Not touch your hand, +Other then humble as becomes a sonne; +But she shall suffer for enchanting you. + +_Valen_. I am a Dutchesse, set my ransome downe. + +_Fred_. A Dutchesse! whence proceeds that borowed name? +Of what continuance? scarcely hath the Sunne +Beheld thy pride a day, but doth decline +Shaming to view a crowned Concubine. + +_Duke_. In mine owne honour, _Fredericke_, I command +Thou set a ransome on _Valentia_. + +_Fred_. What honor's that? your Dukedomes interest? +Your princely birth? your honerable fame? +All these are blemisht with a strumpets name. + +_Mon_. Be not so cruell to bereave her life +'Twill draw upon thee a perpetuall scar,-- +Thy fathers curse, and a continuall warre. + +_Duke_. Oh doe not threaten; _Fredericke_ is so mild +He will not prove such a degenerate child. +I cannot blame him tho' hee rise in armes: +'Twas not in hate to me, but in disdaine +That I should sell my royaltie so vaine; +But did he know the value of the jem, +Hee would not crase[204] it for a Dyadem. +That shee was common her owne words approve, +But many faults are cover'd where men love. +As thou respects my blessing and good dayes, +Restore her, _Fredericke_, and augment her prayse. + +_Fred_. Restore her? + +_Albert_. Never. + +_Duke_. _Albert_, thou wert kind +And I ne're wrong'd thee; doe not change thy minde. + +_Hat_. You doe abase your honour to intreate. + +_Duke_. How can I choose? my affection is so great. + +_Alfred_. Your power is strong, the enemy is but weake. + +_Duke_. In her destruction all my powers will breake. +As thou dost hope of kindnesse in thy choyse +If ere thou love, give eare unto my voice; +Turne not aside thy eye, the feares I feele +Makes me to bow, where tis thy part to kneele. +Loe vassailelike, laying aside command, +I humbly crave this favour at thy hand: +Let me have my beloved, and take my state; +My life I undervalue to that rate. +Crave anything that in my power doth lye, +Tis thine, so faire _Valentia_ may not dye. + +_Fred_. My soule is griev'd, and it appals my blood +To see my father pusseld in such mood. +Yet shall shee dye, Ile doe as I have said; +With mine hand Ile chop off the Strumpets head. + +_Alberto_. Kill her, my Lord, or let me have the honour. + +_Duke_. Tigers would save her, if they lookt upon her; +Shee is so beautifull, so heavenly bright, +That she would make them love her for the sight. +Thou art more rude then such if thou proceede +In the execution of so vilde a deede. +Remember one thing, I did never love +Till thou, my _Fredericke_, broughtst that fatall Glove. +That and the Owners name thou didst descry; +Onely for that cause, let not my love dye. + +_Fred_. O gods! + +_Duke_. Cannot my kneeling serve, my teares prevaile, +When all helpes faile mee, yet this will not faile: +Proffer thy weapon to her beautious side, +And with her heart my heart I will divide. +Intreaty Ile urge none more then are past, +And either now relent or heres my last. + +_Fred_. Stay: if I should relent, will you agree +To sign our general pardon presently? + +_Duke_. By heaven I doe, I freely pardon all +And a reward I give in generall. + +_Fred_. Then take her, you deserve her were shee better, +Making your Crown and life to be her Debter. + +_Duke_. Welcome a thousand times, welcome, sweete wife, +Never more deare then now I have saved[205] thy life. + +_Valen_. This more then kindnesse I turne backe to you, +Doubling my chast vow to bee ever true. + +_Fred_. Then here the warres end, here[206] our fightings marde, +Yet by your leave Ile stand upon my Guard. + +_Duke_. Take any course you please, Citie or Towne, +My royall word Ile keepe by this my Crowne. + +_Fred_. Then thus Ile take my leave. + +_Duke_. Since we must part, +Farewell, my Sonne, all farewell with my heart. + + [_Exeunt Fred, and his [sic]_. + +_Mon_. Twas well, my Lord, 'twas a good policie, +To gaine your bride: I hope your grace did not meane +To be thus overrulde, by a proud Sonne. + +_Duke_. Why, thinke you he intends some treachery? + +_Mon_. Why not? and did release _Valentia_ +To blind your eyes. Hee that could be so proud, +To rise in armes against his naturall Father, +Hath courage to doe more when he sees time. + +_Duke_. But I have pardon'd that offence by oath. + +_Mon_. It were no periury to make him know +Hee is your Sonne, and sonnes a dutie owe. +This sequestration will in time aspire +Unto a flame shall set your Realme on fire; +For[207] when a Subject hath the meanes of will, +'Tis not enough, to say he has no will; +For will is alter'd by the place and time +And hee that's once up knowes the way to clime. +I speake perchance like a prophetique foole, +But these are wise can counsaile with your bride; +Wisedome adviseth timely to provide. + +_Duke_. What thinkes my love of _Frederickes_ reconcilment? + +_Valen_. That he has spirit enough, to be a traytor. +But I am beholding to him for a life +And he may brag he gave your grace a wife. +A [O?] good old man, he could not choose but feele +For shame some small remorse to see you kneele. +Pray God he gave me not into your hand +That he might be the ruine of your land. + +_Duke_. Thinkes my love so? but, brothers, what's your censure? + +_Hat_. I am no Polititian. + +_Alfred_. Neither I: +Wee are both content to live quietly. + +_Duke_. Hee may be a villaine tho' he be my Sonne. + +_Mon_. Why not? and worke your ruine like a foe. +Had he meant well, why did he leave you so? +Your noble heart was free from all deceipt, +But hee's retirde to doe some dangerous feate. +When Subjects stand upon their guard, looke to't, +They have some plot in hand, and they will do't. + +_Duke_. What course is readiest to prevent such mischiefe? + +_Mon_. Plucke up the fulsome thistle in the prime: +Young trees bend lightly, but grow strong in time. +Were I the worthiest to advise your honour, +You should pursue him with your spredding bandes +Swifter in march then is the lightning flame, +And take him tardy whilst his plots are tame. +Now to charge on his army, questionlesse +Would drive them all into a great distresse, +If not confound them; having tane your Sonne, +You may be as kind, and doe as hee hath done; +So shall he know himself and be lesse proud. + +_Valen_. The counsailes good. + +_Duke_. And it shall be allowed. +You that doe love me, see the host prepar'd +To scare those traytors that our liues have scarde. +Our armie's many, but their power is few:[208] +Besides, they are traytors, all with us are true. +Sound Drums and trumpets, make the world rebound; +Hearten our friends, and all our foes confound. + [_Alarum_. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +[SCENE 2.] + + + _Enter Montano, with two or three souldiers; + Vandarmas leading Fredericke bound_. + +_Fred_. Base cowards, traytors! how am I surprizde, +[Bound] with these bonds? I am a Prince by birth, +And princely spirits disdaine such clogs of earth. +Let goe, you slaves. + +_Mon_. First know your fathers pleasure. + +_Fred_. You are too bold. + +_Mon_. But you shall keepe a measure. + +_Fred_. Thou blood of common Concubines, must I +Be bound by thee, and heir of _Saxony_? + + _Enter Duke and Valen_. + +_Duke_. It is our pleasure. + +_Valen_. Have you caught him so? +Now shall you waite the mercy we will shew: +I was too base to be your father's wife. + +_Duke_. But he shall sue to thee to save his life. + +_Fred_. Perjurde, ungratefull, unnaturall, +Is this the pardon given in generall? + +_Duke_. Wee'l talke of that hereafter; make him fast. + +_Valen_. Helpe, _Vandermas_, our self will ayding be +To keepe in awe such sencelesse trechery. + +_Duke_. My helpe and all to prison, there till death +Remaine in duresse. + +_Fred_. Rather stop my breath, +Strangle me with these cords; prison to me +Is twenty deaths, I will have liberty. +Now as you are a father, be more kind; +You did not find me in so sterne a mind. +Are[209] you forgetful of the life I sav'd? +Shall a Duke's Sonne by treason thus be slav'd? +If you suspect my love, grant me the fight; +I dare in single combate any knight, +Any adventurer, any pandorus hinde, +To proue my faith of an unfained mind. + +_Duke_. Away with him. + +_Fred_. I see my death's set downe, +And some adulterous heire must weare that Crowne. +To intreate a _Rodophe_, I had rather dye +Then have my life lodg'd in such infamy: +If all my fortunes on her words depend, +Let her say kill me, and so make an end. + +_Duke_. Why stay you? + +_Vander_. Good my Lord. + +_Fred_. Peace, untaught Groome, +My heart's so great that Ide forerun my doome. +There's no release meant, you have vowed I see +To dam your soules by wilfull periury. +Yet that I am my self, let these words shew: +To die is naturall, tis a death I owe, +And I will pay it, with a mind as free +As I enjoyed in my best libertie. +But this assure your self, when all is done, +They'l kill the father that will kill the sonne. [_Exit_. + +_Duke_. What's to be done now? + +_Mon_. Seale unto his death, +Your warrant nere the sooner takes effect: +'Twill be a meanes to make him penitent. +Seeing his fault, hee'l taste your mercie best, +When now he proudly thinkes he is opprest. + +_Duke_. A Warrant shall be sign'd, and unto thee +I doe commend it; deale not partially; +If he be sorry and in true remorse, +Cancell the Writ, else let it have full force. +Had I ten sonnes, as I have onely this, +They should all die, ere thou depriv'd of blisse. +So great is my affection, my faire wife, +That to save thine Ide frankly give my life. +Come, weele about it strait, all time seemes long, +Where thou hast found slight cause to feare my wrong. + +_Valen_. That writ Ile take, and a conclusion trie: +If he can love he lives, if hate me die. +For howsoere, I seeme to scorne the man, +Hee's somewhat deare in my affection.-- +Here comes your brothers. + + _Enter Alfred, and Hatto_. + +_Alfred_. May it please your grace, +By chance entring into Saint _Maries_ Church, +This morn by breake of day, I espied +That that I know will vexe your Excellence: +Your daughter _Euphrata_ is married +To the ambitious beggar _Constantine_. + +_Duke_. My daughter married to my Chamber-squire? + +_Mon_. Your Excellence did banish me the land +Because I did suspect her with that fellow. + +_Duke_. He shall be tortur'd with th'extreamest plague +For his presumption.--Have you brought them, +That I may kill them with a killing looke? + +_Hat_. Without direction we have ventured +To lay upon them your strict command, +And they attend. + +_Duke_. Bring the presumptuous. + + _Enter Constantine, and Euphrata, Otho following in disguise_. + +_Euph_. Forward, _Constantine_, our Rites are done, +Thou art my husband, doe not feare his eye, +The worst it can import is but to die. + +_Duke_. Base and degenerate. + +_Euph_. He is a Gentleman, +'Twas base of you to wed a Curtizan. + +_Mon_. Her brothers spirit right, bold and audacious. + +_Euph_. When[210] I am no bastard, wherefore should I feare? +The knot is sacred, and I hold it deare; +I am wedded unto virtue, not to will, +Such blessed unions never bring forth ill. +If I offend, in disobedience, +Judge of the power of love by your offence. +Father, you have no reason for this ire; +Frowne whilst you kill us, desire is desire. + +_Duke_. A Curtezan? hath that ambitious boy +Taught you such Rethoricke? you shall taste like joy. +I will not reason with you, words are vaine, +The fault is best discerned in the paine. +Your hastie marriage hath writ downe his death, +And thy proud words shall scale it with thy breath. +By what is dearest to mee, here I sweare, +Both of your heads, shall grace a fatall beere. +Take them to prison, Ile not heare a word, +This is the mercie that we will afford. +Since they are growne so proud, next morn begun, +Let them be both beheaded with my sonne. + +_Con_. Short and sweet: _Euphrata_, the doome is faire, +We shall be soone in heaven, there ends my care. +I scorne entreatie, and, my deare, I know, +All such slavery thou hatest so, +'Twill be a famous deed for this good man +To kill all's children for a Curtezan. + +_Euph_. Wilt thou die with me? + +_Const_. Would I live in heaven? +Thou art now too high for me, death makes us even. + +_Euph_. Looke to your dukedome: those that hast our fall +Have by their avarice almost hurried all. +There's a whole Register of the poores crie: +Whilst they are reading them, imbrace and die. + + [_Flings downe her lap full of Petitions_. + + [_Exeunt Euph. and Constant_. + +_Duke_. Beare them away.--And now let's reade these Writes. +What's here? complaints against my worthy brothers +For corne transported, Copper money stampt,[211] +Our subjects goods ceaz'd, and I know not what. +A plague upon this busie-headed rabble! +We will have tortures made to awe the slaves; +Peace makes them ever proud and malapert, +They'l be an Overseer of the State. + +_Valen_. And plead reformation to depose you. + +_Duk_. True, my faire Dutchesse, but Ile cut them short. +Rule still, deare brothers: take these to the fire, +Let me reade somewhat that augments desire, +Authors and golden Poems full of love; +Such the Petitions are that I approve. +So I may live in quiet with my wife, +Let fathers, mothers, children, all lose life. +If thou have issue, in despight of fate +They shall succeed in our Imperiall state. +Come, sweet, to dauncing, then to sport and play, +Till we have ruled all our life away. + + [_Exeunt_. + + _Manet, Otho_. + +_Otho_. O pittifull condition of a Realme, +Where the chiefe ruler is ore-rul'd by pleasure! +Seeing my friend supriz'd, in this disguise +I followed him to meete the consequence. +And to my griefe I see his marriage rites +Will cut him short of all this earths delights. +What's that to me? When _Constantine_ is dead, +I have some hope to attaine her Nuptiall bed. +But she is doom'd as well as hee to die: +Can the Duke act his daughters Tragedie? +It is impossible; he will relent, +And Ile perswade her freely to repent. +Yet 'tis most likelie that he will agree: +He is so farre spent in vild tyrannie. +The commons hate him for the wrong he hath done +(By his brothers meanes), the Nobles for his sonne. +Famine spreads through the land, the people die; +Yet he lives senselesse of their miserie. +Never were subjects more mislead by any, +Nor ever Soveraigne hated by so many. +But, _Constantine_, to thee I cast an eye; +Shall all our friendship end in enmitie? +Shall I, that ever held thee as my life, +Hasten thy death that I may get thy wife? +Or love or friendship, whether shall exceed, +Ile explaine your vertue in this following deed. + + [_Exit_. + + + +[SCENE 3.] + + + _Enter Valentia, Montano, and Vandermas_. + +_Val_. Have you the instruments I gave in charge. + +_Vand_. Wee have. + +_Val_. And resolution fitting for the purpose? + +_Mon_. All things are ready, with our faithfull hearts. + +_Val_. And she that undertakes so great an act +As I intend, had need of faithfull hearts +This is the prison, and the jaylor comes +In happy time: where's trayterous _Fredericke_? + + _Enter Jaylor_. + +_Jaylor_. What is your highnesse pleasure with the Prince? + +_Val_. Looke there, if you can reade. + +_Jai_. O heavenly God, +What doe I read? a warrant for his death? + +_Valen_. Resigne your keyes, goe weepe a dirge or twaine +But make no clamour with your lamentation. + +_Jay_. I dare not prophesie what my soule feares, +Yet Ile lament his tragedie in teares. [_Exit_. + +_Valen_. Oft have I seene a Nobleman arraign'd +By mighty Lords, the pillars of the land, +Some of which number, his inclined friends, +Have wept, yet past the verdict of his death: +So fares it with the Prince. Were I his jaylor, +And so affected unto _Fredericks_ life, +The fearfull'st tyrant nor the cruell'st plagues +That ever lighted on tormented soules, +Should make me yeeld my prisoner to their hands. + +_Mon_. Madam, he knowes his duty, and performes it. + +_Valen_. Setting aside all dutie, I would die +Ere like a woman weepe a tragedie; +Tis basenesse, cowardize. Dutie! O slave, +Had I a friend, I'de dye in my friends grave. +But it sorts well for us; Hindes will be Hindes, +And the Ambitious tread upon such mindes. +Waite, whilest I call you, in the jaylors house. + +_Mon_. We will. + [_Exeunt Van. and Mon_. + +_Valen_. My Lord, Prince _Fredericke_. + + _Enter Fred_. + +_Fred_. Wofull _Fredericke_ +Were a beseeming Epitaph for me, +The other tastes of too much soveraigntie. +What? is it you! the glory of the stewes! + +_Valen_. Thy mother, _Fredericke_. + +_Fred_. I detest that name, +My mother was a Dutches of true fame; +And now I thinke upon her, when she died +I was ordain'd to be indignified. +She never did incense my Princely Father +To the destruction of his loving sonne: +Oh she was vertuous, trulie naturall, +But this step-divell doth promise our fall. + +_Val_. Why doest thou raile on me? I am come +To set thee free from all imprisonment. + +_Fred_. By what true supersedeas but by death? +If it be so, come, strike me to the earth; +Thou needest no other weapon but thine eye; +Tis full of poyson, fixe it, and Ile die. + +_Val_. Uncharitable youth, I am no serpent venom'd, +No basiliske to kill thee with my sight. + +_Fre_. Then thou speak'st death, I am sorry I mistooke; +They both are fatall, theres but little choice; +The first inthral'd my father, the last me, +No deadlier swords ever us'd enemie; +My lot's the best that I dye with the sound, +But he lives dying in a death profound. +I grow too bitter, being so neere my end; +Speake quickly, boldly, what your thoughts intend. + +_Valen_. Behold this warrant, you can reade it well. + +_Fred_. But you the interpretation best can tell: +Speake, beautious ruine, twere great injurie +That he should reade the sentence that must dye. + +_Val_. Then know in briefe 'tis your fathers pleasure. + +_Fred_. His pleasure, what? + +_Val_. That you must loose your life. + +_Fred_. Fatall is his pleasure, 'tis to please his wife. +I prethee, tell me, didst thou ever know +A Father pleased his sonne to murder so? +For what is't else but murder at the best? +The guilt whereof will gnawe him in his brest, +Torment him living, and when I am dead +Curse thee by whose plot I was murdered? +I have seene the like example, but, O base! +Why doe I talke with one of your disgrace? +Where are the officers? I have liv'd too long, +When he that gave me life does me this wrong. + +_Val_. That is thy fathers hand, thou dost not doubt? +And if thou shouldst, I have witnesse to approve it. +Yet tho it be his hand, grant to my request, +Love me and live. + +_Fred_. To live so, I detest. Love thee! + +_Valen_. I, love me, gentle _Fredericke_, love me. + +_Fred_. Incestuous strumpet, cease. + +_Val_. Oh thou dealest ill, +To render so much spleene for my good will. + +_Fred_. Torment farre worse then death. + +_Valen_. Ile follow thee: +Deare _Fredericke_, like thy face, be thy words faire. + +_Fre_. This monstrous dealing doubles my deaths care. + +_Valen_. What shall I call thee to allay this ire? + +_Fred_. Why, call me son and blush at thy desire. + +_Valen_. I never brought thee foorth. + +_Fred_. Art thou not wife +Unto my father? + +_Val_. Thinke upon thy life: +It lyes like mine, onely in gentle breath; +Or that thy father's dead, and after death +'Tis in my choice to marry whom I will. + +_Fred_. Any but me. + +_Valen_. O doe not thinke so ill, +Rather thinke, thou art a stranger, not his sonne; +Then 'tis no incest tho the Act be done. +Nature unto her selfe is too unkind +To buzze such scruples into _Fredericks_ minde; +Twas a device of man to avoid selfe love, +Else every pleasure in one stocke should move, +Beautie in grace part never from the kinne. + +_Fred_. If thou persever as thou hast begun, +I shall forget I am my fathers sonne, +I shall forget thou art my fathers wife, +And where 'tis I must die abridge thy life. + +_Valen_. Why did'st not kill me, being thy prisoner then, +But friendly didst deliver me again[212] +Unto thy father, wert not thou didst love me? + +_Fred_. Beyond all sufferance, monster, thou dost move me. +'Twas for my fathers sake, not for thine owne; +That, to thy lifes losse, thou hadst throughly knowne +But that relenting nature playde her part, +To save thy blood whose losse had slaine his heart: +And it repents me not hee doth survive, +But that his fortune was so ill to wive. +Come, kill, for for that you came; shun delayes +Lest living Ile tell this to thy dispraise, +Make him to hate thee, as he hath just cause, +And like a strumpet turne thee to the lawes. + +_Valen_. Good _Fredericke_. + +_Fred_. Tis resolv'd on, I haue said. + +_Valen_. Then fatall Ministers I craue your ayde. + + _Enter Van. and Mont_. + +Come, _Vandermas, Montano_, wheres your corde? +Quicklie dispatch, strangle this hatefull Lord. +Or stay: because I love him, he shall chuse +The easiest of three deaths that we may use, +The halter, poyson, or bloodshedding blade. + +_Fred_. Any of them. + +_Valen_. This Aconite's well made, a cup of poyson +Stuft with despatching simples, give him this, +And he shall quickly leave all earthly blisse. +There, take it, _Fredericke_, our last guift of grace; +Since thou must die, Ile have thee die apace. + +_Fred_. O happie meanes, given by a trecherous hand, +To be my true guide to the heavenly land! +Death steales upon me like a silken sleepe; +Through every vaine doe leaden rivers flowe,[213] +The gentlest poyson that I ever knewe, +To work so coldly, yet to be so true. +Like to an infant patiently I goe, +Out of this vaine world, from all worldly woe; +Thankes to the meanes, tho they deserve no thankes, +My soule beginnes t'ore-flow these fleshly bankes. +My death I pardon unto her and you, +My sinnes God pardon; so vaine world adiew. + [_He falls asleep_. + +_Valen_. Ha, ha, ha. + +_Mon_. Hee's dead, why does your highnesse laugh? + +_Valen_. Why, Lord _Montano_, that I love to see, +He that hath sav'd my life, to die for me. +But theres a riddle in this Princes death, +And Ile explaine it on this floore of earth. +Come, to his sisters execution goe, +We have varietie of joyes in woe. +I am sure, you have heard his Excellence did sweare +Both of their heads should grace a Kingly beare. +Upon a mourning hearse let him be layd; +He shalbe intombed with a wived maid. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + + +_Actus Quintus_. + +[SCENE 1.] + + + _Enter Duke, Hatto, and Alfred_. + +_Duke_. Bring forth the prisoners: wher's my beauteous Dutches +That she may see the ruine of her foes? +She that upbraided her with slanderous wordes, +She that in scorne of due obedience +Hath matcht the honour of the _Saxons_ blood +Unto a beggar; let them be brought foorth, +I will not rise from this tribunal seate +Till I have seene their bodies from their heads. + +_Alfred_. Here comes the Dutches with proud _Fredericks_ hearse. + + _Enter, Valentia, Montano, Vandermas, with others, + bearing the hearse, with Fredericke on, covered + with a black robe_. + +_Duke_. So, set it downe: why have you honored it +With such a sable coverture? A traytor, +Deserves no cloth of sorrow: set it downe, +And let our other offspring be brought foorth. +My beauteous, lovely, and admired love, +Come, sit by us in an imperiall chayre, +And grace this state throne with a state more fayre. + +_Valen_. My gracious Lord, I hope your Excellence +Will not be so forgetfull of your honour, +Prove so unnaturall to your loving daughter +As to bereave her of her life +Because she hath wedded basely gainst your will. +Though _Fredericke_ dyed deservedly, yet shee +May by her loves death clear her indignitie. + +_Duke_. She and her love we have sentenced to die, +Not for her marriage onely, tho that deede +Crownes the contempt with a deserved death, +But chiefly for she raild against thy worth, +Upbraided thee with tearmes so monstrous base +That nought but death can cleare the great disgrace. +How often shall I charge they be brought foorth? +Were my heart guilty of a crime so vilde, +I'de rend it forth, then much more kill my childe. + +_Val_. O, that this love may last! 'tis sprung so hie, +Like flowers at full growth that grow to die. + + _Enter Julia, with a vaile over her head, Otho with + another, with Officers_. + +_Duke_. What means these sable vailes upon their faces? + +_Val_. In signe they sorrow for your high displeasure. +For since the houre they were imprisoned, +They have liv'd like strangers, hood-winkt together. +You may atchieve great fame, victorious Lord, +To save the lives of two such innocents. + +_Duke_. Tis pretty in thee, my soule lov'd Dutchesse, +To make this Princely motion for thy foes. +Let it suffice, the'are traitors to the state, +Confederators with those that sought my life, +A kinne to _Fredericke_, that presumptious boy, +That durst beare armes against his naturall father: +Are they more deare then he? off with their vailes. + +_Mon_. O yet be mercifull unto your daughter. + +_Duke_. You make me mad, headsman; dispatch I say, +They are doom'd to die, and this the latest day. + +_Otho_. Then let him strike, who ever traitors be, +I am sure no treason lives in her or me. + +_Duke_. How now, whats here? _Otho_ and _Julia_! +Am I deluded? where is _Euphrata_, +And that audacious traitor _Constantine_? + +_Otho_. Why, fled. + +_Duke_. To whom? + +_Otho_. To safetie, here was none. +I can resolve you of the circumstance: +Betwixt the noble _Constantine_ and I,-- +Noble I call him for his virtuous minde-- +There was a league of love so strongly made +That time wants houres, and occasion cause, +To violate the contract of our hearts. +Yet on my part the breach did first appeare: +He brought me to behold his beauteous love +The faire _Euphrata_; her Angel sight +Begate in me the fire of private love: +I that before did like her for my friend, +Now to deceive him, sought her for my selfe; +But my device was knowne unto my friend, +And worthilie he banisht me his sight. + +_Duke_. Whats this to their destruction? seeke them forth. + +_Otho_. They are far enough from suffering such a death. +I, well considering my unfriendly part, +Bethought me how to reconcile my self +Unto my hearts endeared _Constantine_; +And seeing him carried to the prison, we +Followed, and found meanes for their libertie. + +_Duke_. Are they escapt then? + +_Otho_. Both, in our disguise, +And we stand here to act their tragedies. +If they have done amisse, on us +Impose the Law. + +_Julia_. O let our suites prevaile, +I ask to dye for my deare Ladies sake. + +_Otho_. I for my friend. + +_Duke_. This friendly part doth make +My heart to bleede within me, and my minde +Much perplext that I have beene so unkind. +What second funerall march is that I heare? + + _Enter Rainaldo and Alberto, like schollers, grieving + before the Beare, others following them with bodies of + Euphrata and Constantine covered with blacke_. + +_Alberto_. Health to this presence, though the newes +Impairing health I bring unto this presence; +The bodies of the drowned _Constantine_ +And the faire _Euphrata_, behold them both. + +_Duke_. Of drowned _Constantine_ and _Euphrata_! +Declare the manner, and with killing words +Temper thy words, that it may wound my life. + +_Albert_. Passing the _Rhine_, bordering upon the tower, +From whence, it seemes they lately had escapt, +By an unskilfull Guide their gundelet[214] +Encountred with an other, and the shocke +Drown'd both the vessayles, and their haplesse lives. +Their bodies hardly were recoverèd;[215] +But, knowne, we brought them to your excellence +As to a father, that should mourne for them. + +_Duke_. Unto a tyrant, doe not call me father, +For I have beene no father to their lives. +The barbarous Canniball, that never knew +The naturall touch of humane beauty, +Would have beene farre more mercifull then I. +Oh tyrannic, the overthrow of Crownes, +Kingdomes subversion, and the deaths of Kings! +Loe here a piteous object so compleate +With thy intestine and destroying fruite, +That it will strike thee dead! oh _Euphrata_, +Oh princely _Fredericke_, never deare to me +Till now, in you I see my misery. +My sonne, my daughter, vertuous _Constantine_! + +_Hat_. What meanes this griefe, my Lord? these are the traytors +That you in justice sentenced to dye. + +_Alfred_. A trecherous sonne and a rebellious daughter. + +_Valen_. Those that did seeke to take away your life. + +_Mon_. Bereave you of your Crownes prerogative. + +_Duke_. Hence from my sight, blood-thirsty Counsellors! +They never sought my life, but you have sought it. +Vertuous _Alberto_ and _Rinaldo_, +Had I given eare to them and to my sonne, +My joyes had flourished, that now are done. + +_Valen_. Yet for my sake allay this discontent. + +_Duke_. Tis for thy sake, thou vilde notorious woman, +That I have past the limits of a man, +The bonds of nature. +'Twas thy bewitching eye, thy Syrens voice, +That throwes me upon millions of disgrace, +Ile have thee tortur'd on the Racke, +Plucke out those basiliske enchaunting eyes, +Teare thee to death with Pincers burning hot, +Except thou giue me the departed lives +Of my deare childeren. + +_Valen_. What, am I a Goddesse +That I should fetch their flying soules from heaven +And breath them once more in their clay cold bodies? + +_Duke_. Thou art a witch, a damn'd sorceresse, +No goddesse, but the goddesse of blacke hell, +And all those devils thy followers. +What makes thou, on the earth, to murder men? +Will not my sonnes and daughters timelesse[216] lives, +Taken away in prime of their fresh youth, +Serve to suffice thee? + +_Valen_. O, you are mad, my Lord. + +_Duke_. How can I choose, +And such a foule _Erynnis_ gase on me, +Such furious legions circle me about, +And my slaine Sonne and Daughters fire brands +Lying so neere me, to torment my soule? +Extremitie of all extremities: +Take pitty on the wandering sense of mine +Or it will breake the prison of my soule +And like to wild fire fly about the world, +Till they have no abiding in the world. +I faint, I dye, my sorrowes are so great, +Oh mortalitie, renounce thy seate. [_He fals down_. + +_Valen_. The Duke, I feare, is slaine with extreame griefe. +I that had power, to kill him, will assay henceforth +My utmost industry to save his life. +Looke up my Lord, 'tis not _Valentias_ voice, +That Courtezan that hath betray'd thy honour, +Murder'd thy childeren, and almost slaine thee: +I am thy sonne, I am Prince _Fredericke_; +If thou hast any liking for that name, +Looke on my face, I come to comfort thee. + +_Duke_. The name of _Fredericke_ is like Hermes wande +Able to charme and uncharme sorrowfull men. +Who nam'd _Fredericke_? + +_Valen_. I pronounc't his name, +That have the power to give thee thy lost Sonne, +Had I like virtue to restore the other. +Behold my Lord, behold thy headlesse Sonne +Blest with a head, the late deceased living; +As yet not fully waken'd from the sleepe, +My drowsie potion kindled in his braine, +But much about this houre the power should cease; +And see, he wakes. + +_Duke_. O happinesse, tis hee. + +_Valen_. Imbrace him then, but ne're more imbrace me. + +_Fred_. Where am I, in what dungeon, wheres my grave? +Was I not dead, or dreamt I was dead? +This am I sure, that I was poisoned.[217] + +_Duke_. Thou art deceiv'd, my Sonne, but this deceit +Is worth commendations; thanke my Dutchesse, +Her discretion reedified thy life, +But she hath prov'd her selfe a gracious wife. + +_Fred_. She tempt[ed] me to lust; wast in my grave? + +_Valen_. 'Twas but to try thy faith unto thy father: +Let it suffice, his hand was at thy death +But twas my mercie that proclaim'd thy breath. + +_Fred_. To heaven and you, I render worthy thankes. + +_Duke_. O liv'd my _Euphrata_ and _Constantine_, +How gladly would I all my griefe resigne. + +_Albert_. On that condition, and with this besides, +That you be pleas'd to pardon us and them, +We doe referre our persons to your mercie. + +_Duke_. My daughter, my deare sonne in law, +Vertuous _Alberto_? then, my friend, +My joyes are at the highest, make this plaine +How these sav'd drownd, as _Fredericke_ has bin slaine. + +_Albert_. Presuming on the example of these friends, +And know we are all actors in this plot +Boldly presented your presence, with this minde, +If pardoning them your grace would pardon us; +If otherwise, this was the joy of either, +That death's lesse painefull when friends die together. + +_Duke_. We doe receive you all into our favour, +And my faire Dutchesse; my unkind divorce +Shall be confounded with a second marriage, +I here receive thee once more as my wife. + +_Val_. You have your childeren, I have paid that debt, +You have divorc'd me, therefore I am free, +And henceforth I will be at libertie. + +_Duke_. Theres no divorce can part thee from thy Lord. + +_Valen_. Like to unkindnesse there is no divorce, +I will no more be won unto your bed, +But take some course to lament my life mislead. + +_Duke_. Canst thou live better then in sacred wedlock? + +_Valen_. Wedlocke to me is unpleasing, since my Lord +Hath broke the band of marriage with unkindnesse. + +_Duke_. Intreate her, children, _Fredericke, Euphrata_, +Let me not loose the essence of my soule. + +_Fred_. Divine _Valentia_, mirrour of thy sexe, +The pride of true reclaim'd incontinence, +Honour of the dishonoring, yeeld I pray, +And be mercifull, pitty my fathers smart, +Since thy last thraldome hath neare cleft his heart. + +_Euph_. 'Twas for his children that his spleene did rise, +Anger a torture haunting the most wise. + +_Valen_. O no I am a murderesse, an _Erinnis_, +A fury sent from _Limbo_ to affright +Legions of people with my horrid sight. + +_Hat_. What doe you meane? be won by their intreaties. + +_Alfred_. 'Tis madnesse in you to be thus perverse. + +_Val_. Who ever speaks, base wretches, be you dumb; +You are the catterpillers of the state, +By your bad dealings he is unfortunate. +Thou, honorable, true, beloved Lord, +Hearken to me, and by thy antient love, +I charge thee, banish these realme-sucking slaves, +That build their pallace upon poore mens graves. +O those are they that have wrong'd both you and me, +Made this blest land a land of miserie; +And since, by too much loving, your grace hath falne +Into a generall hating of your subjects, +Redeeme your lost estate with better dayes; +So shall you merit never dying praise, +So shall you gaine lives quietnesse on earth, +And after death a new celestiall birth. + +_Duke_. Unto thy wisedome I referre their doomes, +My selfe, my Dukedome, and my crowne. +Oh were there anything of higher rate, +That unto [t]hee I'de wholly consecrate. + +_Val_. This kind surrender shewes you are a Prince, +Worthy to be an Angell in the world +Of immortalitie, +Which these cursed creatures never can attaine. +But that this world may know how much I hate +This cruell, base oppression of the poore, +First, I enjoyne you for the wrongs you have done, +Make restitution; and because your goods +Are not sufficient so to satisfie, +I doe condemn your bodies to the Mynes, +Where live like golden drudges all your lives, +In digging of the mettall you best love: +Death is your due, but for your noble race +This gentle sentence I impose on you: +The Duke succeeding shall behold it done. + +_Duke_. Who's that, my love? + +_Valen_. Kind _Fredericke_, your sonne: +The interest that your grace hath given to me, +I freely doe impart. + +_Duke_. We doe agree, +To what my Dutchesse please. + +_Valen_. The state is thine, +Thy Uncles sentence, _Fredericke_, shall be mine. + +_Fred_. Beare them away, what you have said shall stand, +Whilst I have interest in this new given land. + +_Hat_. We doe receive our judgements, with a curse. + +_Valen_. Learne to pray better, or it shall be worse: +Lords, see those wormes of kingdomes be destroyed. +And now, to give a period to my speeche +I doe intreate your grace, if that your love +Be not growne colde, but that your heart desires +The true societie of a chaste wife, +Be pleas'd to undergoe a further doome. +Wee haue liv'd too lightly, we have spent our dayes, +Which should be dedicated to our God, +In soule destroying pleasure, and our sloth +Hath drawne upon the Realme a world of plagues.[218] +Therefore hereafter let us live together +In some removed cell or hermitage, +Unto the which poore travellers mislead +May have direction and reliefe of wants. + +_Duke_. A hermetary life is better then a kingdome, +So my _Valentia_ beare me company. + +_Valen_. If my dread Lord will for my sake endure +So strickt a calling, my bewitching haires +Shall be made napkins to dry up the teares +That true repentance wringeth from our hearts; +Our sinnes we'l number with a thousand sighes, +Fasting shall be the Steward of our Feast, +Continuall prayer in stead of costly cates, +And the remainder of our life a schoole +To learne new lessons for the land of heaven. +The will, where power is wanting, is good payment; +Grace doth reject no thought, tho' nere so small, +So it be good; our God is kind to all. +Come, my deare Lord, this is a course more kind; +No life like us that have a heavenly mind. + +_Mon_. O let me be a servant in that life. + +_Valen_. With all my heart, a Partner let him be +There's small ambition in humility. + +_Duke_. _Fredericke_, farewell, deare _Euphrata_, adue; +Remember us in prayer, as we will you. + + [_Exeunt D. & D_ + +_Fred_. A happy change: would all that step awry +Would take like course in seeking pietie. + +_Otho_. Two humble suites I crave of my best friend: +First, pardon for my rashnesse in your love, +Next this most loyall Virgin for my wife. + +_Con_. With all my heart, if _Julia_ be pleas'd. + +_Julia_. I have no power to disobey your grant. + +_Con_. Then she is yours. + +_Fred_. _Alberto_, +The offices belonging to our Uncles +We doe derive to you for your good service +In our late warres, and in our sisters love. +And now set forwards: Lords, let us be gone +To solemnize two mariages in one. + + + +_The Epilogue. + +Encouragement unto the valiant +Is like a golden spurre upon the heele +Of a young Knight, like to a wreath of Bay +To a good Poet; like a sparkeling Crowne, +Unto a Kings Son. Honour and renowne +Is the efficient and persevering cause +Of every well deserved action. +Take away some recorde, encouragement, +And the World's like a_ Chaos, _all delight +Buried unborne in everlasting night. +Even so it fares with us, and with the rest +Of the same facultie, all meerely nothing: +Without your favour every labour dyes, +Save such whose second springs comes from your eyes. +Extend your beames of love to us at full, +As the Sunne does unto the Easterne clime, +And England may bring forth like India +As costly spice, as orientall Jems. +The earth's all one, the heate refines the moulde, +And favour makes the poorest ground yielde gold_. + + +FINIS. + + + + + + +INTRODUCTION TO EVERIE WOMAN IN HER HUMOR. + +This old "comical satire" has come down in a very corrupt state. A sadly +tattered appearance is presented by the metrical passages. I have +ventured to patch only a few of the many rents in the old coat of 1609. + +The anonymous playwright owes much more than the title of the play to +Ben Jonson. Acutus, overflowing with bitter and tedious moralising, is +evidently modelled on Macilente in _Every Man Out of His Humour_. The +very dog--Getica's dog--was suggested by Puntarvolo's dog. Indeed, +throughout the play we are constantly reminded of _Every Man Out of His +Humour_; but the unknown writer had some inventiveness of his own, and +was not a mere copyist. The jolly fat host, with his cheery cry "merry +hearts live long," is pleasant company; and his wife, the hard-working +hostess, constantly repining at her lot, yet seemingly not dissatisfied +at heart, has the appearance of being a faithful transcript from life. +Cornutus (the hen-pecked citizen) and his gadding wife are familiar +figures, but not the less welcome on that account. Getica's anxiety at +the loss of her dog is amusingly depicted. In fact, the whole play would +be tolerable, if the moralising were cut out and the text were free from +corruptions. + + + +EVERIE Woman in her Humor. + + +LONDON Printed by E.A. for _Thomas Archer_, and are to be solde at his +shop in the _Popes-head-Pallace_, neere the Royall Exchange. 1609. + + + + +_Everie Woman in her_ + Humor. + + + _Enter Flavia as a Prologue_. + +Gentles of both sexes and all sortes, I am sent to bid yee welcome; I +am but instead of a Prologue, for a she-prologue[219] is as rare as an +Usurers Almes, _non reperitur in usu_; and the rather I come woman +because men are apt to take kindelye any kinde thing at a womans hand; +and wee poore foules are but too kinde if wee be kindely intreated, +marry otherwise, there I make my _Aposiopesis_. The Author hath indeede +made me an honest merrye wench one of his humorists, yet I am so much +beholding to him, I cannot get mee a husband in his play that's worthe +the having, unlesse I be better halfe of the sutor my selfe; and having +imposed this audacity on me, he sends me hither first for exercise. I +come among ye all, these are the Contentes: that you would heare with +patience, judge with lenity, and correct with smiles; for the which our +endeavour[220] shall shew it selfe, like a tall fellow in action; if we +shall joyne hands, a bargaine. + + As a lowely earnest, I give this curtesie before, + And in conceite I give ye twenty more. + + + +[ACT THE FIRST. + +_Scene_ 1.] + + + _Enter Accutus and Graccus_. + +_Gra_. Nay but, _Accutus_, prethee what mis-shapen vizard of Melancholly +hast thou mask't thy selfe in? Thou lookst as thou wer't changing thy +religion; what? is there a breach in thy Faith? come declare, and let me +set thy [my?] wits on worke to amend it. + +_Acut_. Ha, ha, ha! + +_Gra_. Prettie; a man's well advisd to offer good counsell, and be +laught at for his labour: we shall shortly have no counsellors, but +Physitians; I spend my breath to thee, and thou answerest me some half +an houre after in a sem[i]breve, or like to a Sexton, with a Sobeit or +Amen. + +_Acu_. Condemn my Stars then! + +_Grac_. I should wrong am then, as thou dost with a false inditment. I +know it took not beeing at thy birth: thou hast been merrie, thou hast +sounded hoopes, swallowed whiffes, walkt late, worn favours, seene +whoresons; thou canst feele and understand, come thou hast bene a +sinner, unloade, discharge, untune, confesse, is _Venus_ dominatrix? art +not in love? + +_Acut_. Yes, I love God and my neighbors. + +_Grac_. Then either for God's sake or thy Neighbors, or both, be smothe, +and participate; ist not some underlayer, some she Cammell, that will +beare as much of her belly as three beastes on their backes? some +Lanthorne-maker? Ile holde thy head; come, up with't! + +_Acut_. Prethee, I hate none, but heaven hate me if I be in love with +any. + +_Grac_. Off with these clogs; then break prison and get out of this +melancholly Gaole. Harke how the generall noise doth welcome from the +_Parthian_ wars; each spirit's jocund, fraught with glee, then wrong not +thine with this dull meditation. + +_Accut_. Oh! how doe they then wrong my meditation! my thoughts are with +themselues at a counsell; til with noise, and thou with continuall +talke, hast driven them to a _nonplus_. + +_Gra_. Then make me of thy counsell, and take my advice, for ile take no +denyall; Ile not leave thee til the next new Almanackes be out of date; +let him threaten the sharpest weather he can in Saint _Swithin_ week, or +it snow on our Ladies face, ile not budge, ile be thy mid-wife til thou +beest delivered of this passion. + +_Accut_. Partake then, and give me the beleefe; thinkst thou or knowst +thou any of this opinion, that that mooving marish element, that swels +and swages as it please the Moone, to be in bignes equall to that solid +lump that brings us up? + +_Gra_. I was sure that thou wer't beyond the _Antipodes_; faith, I am of +that faith I was brought up in, I have heard my Father say, and i'me +sure, his Recordes came from his Father, that Land and Sea are in nature +thus much alike; the owne [_sic_] growes by the Sunne, the other by the +Moone, both by God's blessing, and the Sea rather the greater; and so +thinke I. + +_Acut_. Good; there we have a farther scope, and holde the sea can (as a +looking glasse) answer with a meere simile[221] any mooving shape uppon +the earth. + +_Gra_. Nay, that's most certaine, I have heard of Sea-horses, +Sea-calves, and Sea-monsters. + +_Acut_. Oh, they are monstrous, madde, merrie, wenches, and they are +monsters. + +_Grac_.[222] They call them Sea-maides, or Mermaides, singing sweetelye, +but none dares trust them; and are verie like our Land-wenches, +devouring Serpents, from the middle downeward. + +_Acut_. Thou hast even given me satisfaction, but hast thou this by +proofe? + +_Grac_. Not by my travels (so God helpe me): marrie, ile bring ye fortie +Saylers, will sweare they have seene them. + +_Acut_. In truth! + +_Grac_. In truth or otherwise. + +_Acut_. Faith they are not unlike our land-monsters, else why should +this _Maximilian_ Lord, for whom these shoots [_sic_] and noises befits +thus, forsake his honours to sing a Lullabye? +These seeming Saints, alluring evils, +That make earth _Erebus_, and mortals devils-- + +_Gra_. Come, thou art Sea-sicke, and will not be well at ease, til thou +hast tane a vomit: up with 't. + +_Acu_. Why, ifaith, I must; I can not soothe the World +With velvet words and oyly flatteries, +And kiss the sweatie feet of magnitude +To purchace smiles or a deade mans office; +I cannot holde to see a rib of man, +A moytie of it selfe, commaund the whole; +Bafful and bend to muliebritie. +O[223] female scandal! observe, doe but observe: +Heere one walks ore-growne with weeds of pride, +The earth wants shape to apply a simile, +A body prisoned up with walles of wyer, +With bones of whales; somewhat allyed to fish, +But from the wast declining, more loose doth hang +Then her wanton dangling lascivious locke +Thats whirld and blowne with everie lustfull breath; +Her necke in chaines, all naked lyes her brest, +Her body lighter than the feathered Crest. +Another powtes, and scoules, and hangs the lip, +Even as the banckrout[224] credit of her husband +Cannot equal her with honors liverie. +What does she care if, for to deck her brave, +Hee's carryed from the Gate-house to his grave! +Another in a rayling pulppet key, +Drawes through her nose the accent of her voice, +And in the presence of her good-man Goate +Cries 'fye, now fye, uppon these wicked men +That use such beastly and inhumane talke,' +When being in private all her studies warne +To make him enter into _Capricorn_. +Another as she goes treads a _Canarie_[225] pace, +Jets it so fine and minces so demure +As mistris Bride upon her marriage day; +Her heels are Corke, her body Atlas, +Her Beautie bought, her soule an Atomus. +Another, with a spleene-devoured face, +Her eies as hollow as Anatomy,[226] +Her tung more venome then a Serpents sting, +Which when it wagges within her chap-faln jawes +Is noise more horrid then a cry of hounds +With open mouths pursuing of their game. +Wants she but ritch attire or costly dyet, +With her the Devill can nere live in quiet. +Yet these are weaker vessels, heaven doth knowe; +Lay on them ought but ease, you doe them wrong; +They are as weake as water and indeede as strong, +And then, like mightie ships when pellets sincke, +To them lay more men, sheele never shrinke. + + [_Enter[227] Getica and Boss, with a dog_.] + +_Boss_. Mistris, that face wants a fresh Glosse. + +_Gent_. Prethee, dib it in well, _Bos_. + +_Acut_. _Pigmaleon, Pigmaleon_, I coniure thee appeare; to worke, to +worke, make more Marble Ingles. Nature thou art a foole, Art is above +thee; _Belzebub_, paint thy face there's some will love thee. + +_Boss_. Rare, Mistris, heeres a cheeke like a Camelion or a blasing +Star, you shall heere me blaze it; heere's two saucers sanguine in a +sable field pomegranet, a pure pendat ready to drop out of the stable, a +pin and web argent in hayre de Roy. + +_Grac_. And a fooles head in the Crest. + +_Bos_. In the Crest? oh sweete Vermilion mistris, tis pittie the +Vermilion Wormes shoulde eate thee, ile set it with pretious stones and +ye will. + +_Gent_. Enough, sweete _Bosse_, throwe a little water to spurt's face +and lets away. + +_Bo_. Hold up; so, sir, now away. Oh Mistris, your scantling, most +sweete mistriss, most derydent starre. + +_Acut_. Then most rydent starre, faire fall ye. + +_Grac_. Nay tis the Moone her self, for there's her man and her Dogge +before. + +_Bosse_. I, sir, but the man is not in the moone, and my bush is before +me, _ergo_, not at my backe, _et ergo_, not moone sir. + +_Gent_. What's your will sir? + +_Acut_. That you would leave us. + +_Boss_. Leave you! zounds, sir! we scorne their companies, come they are +still, doe not open to them, we have no Conies to catch. + + [_Exeunt[228] Getica and Boss, with the dog_. + +_Acut_. Away, keepe no distance, even both together, +for wit ye may be Coacht together. +What sleeke-browde Saint can see this Idiotisme, +The shape and workmanship of omnipotency +To be so blinde with drugs of beastlinesse, +That will not bend the browe and bite the lippe, +Trouble his quiet soule with venome spleene +And feare least the all over-seeer +Can without vengeance see these ignomies? + +_Grac_. Why, therfore are they belooved like Sargeants +and entertained like Beggers; +Think'st thou but any honorable Gate, +But will be shut against these Butterflies? + +_Acut_. Oh _Graccus_! thou beguil'st opinion: +The Gates of great men stand more wide +To entertaine a foole then _Cresus_ armes +To hug the Golden God; and faster bard +Against necessitie then _Dives_ entrance +At _Olympus_ gate. + + _Enter Servulus,[229] Scillicet, Philautus and boy_. + +_Servu_.[230] Fa, la, sol, lasol; Boy, a Glasse. + +_Boy_. Tis but one and all, sir. + +_Acut_. Angels protect us, what have we heare? + +_Boy_. Ye haue a good memorie, Sir, for they are five minutes ere +windefall of your Glasse. + +_Ser_. Sir, be credible, tis ballanst to be superlative politicke +custome in these houres to dwell in shallowe accoutrements, as a defence +for the abilitie of his pursse from the infringed Oath of some impudent +face, that will borrowe a gentlemans revenewes if he be vestally adornd: +Ile tell you sir by this bright Horrison-- + +_Scil_. A word, I pray yee, sir, ere ye go any further: Boy, my Tables. + +_Boy_. Your Tables are ready, Sir, and all the men ye keep which is +indeede halfe a Boy, _Scillicet Videlicet_. + +_Scil_. I pray ye let me request that oath of you. + +_Serv_. A graceful enquirie, and well observ'd: Sir, my company shall +make ye copious of novelties, let your Tables befriend your memorie: +write, 'by this bright Horrison.' + +_Phy_. 'Here's[231] none but only I' [_sing_]; Boy, how likest thou my +head of hayre? + +_Boy_. Your Glasse may flatter ye, but truely I will not; your head is +not a hayre better than it should be. + +_Phy_. Is there any scarcitie of haire, Boy? + +_Boy_. Somewhat thin and yet there is more hayre than wit.[232] + +_Phy_. How, Boy? + +_Boy_. Then wit of man can number sir, take it i'th right sence, +I pray yee. + +_Phy_. Most ingenious! + +_Acu_. O muffle muffle, good _Graccus_, do not taint thy sence +With sight of these infectious animalles, +'Less[233] reason in thee have the upper hand +To governe sence, to see and shun the sight. +Here's new discovered sins, past all the rest; +Men strive to practice how to sweare the best.' + +_Scil_. I have quoted it, sir; by this bright Hore, Horeson, pronounce +ye, sir? + +_Serv_. Horison! + +_Scil_. Horison:--the Widowes mite, sir. + +_Serv_. Not for the Soldans crown, sir. + +_Scil_. Indeede yee shall, by this bright horison ye shall; beleeve me, +if I sweare, I think myself beholding for I know it to be no common +oath. + +_Serv_. Were it common it past not these doores; Sir, I shift my oathes, +as I wash my hands, twice in the artificial day; for in dialoguising, +tis to be observ'd, your sentences, must ironically, metaphorically, and +altogether figuratively, [be] mixt with your morning oathes. + +_Scil_. Faith, tis verie true. + +_Accu_. That he neither knowes what he saies nor thou understandest. + +_Serv_. As for example, by this illuminate welkin. + +_Scil_. Oh excellent! it shall be downe to. + +_Accut_. There's another Ducket. He utters his oathes apace. +Sure this Villaine has no soule, and for gold +Heele damn his body too, hee's at peace with hell +And brings his Merchandise from thence to sell. + +_Boy_. I have heere two Mistresses, but if the best were chosen out, if +_Poliphemus_ tother eye were out his choice might be as good as _Argus_ +broade waking, so difficult is the difference. + +_Phy_. Boy, sleepe wayward thoughts? + +_Boy_. Sir. + +_Phy_. Is it not now most amyable and faire? + +_Boy_. Yes sir, God be praised. + +_Phy_. What meanst thou, Boy? + +_Boy_. The weather, sir. + +_Phy_. I meane my haire and face, Boy. + +_Boy_. Twere amiable if it would not alter. + +_Phy_. Wherfore I often repaire it. + +_Boy_. Me thinkes that should weare it the sooner. + +_Phy_. Not so Boy, for to trimme the Hayer well is a rare qualitie; to +bee rarelye quallified is to be wise; apply, Boy. + +_Boy_. That you are wise in trimming your hayre, Maister? + +_Phy_. Right, to be wise is to be rare, for it is rare to see a wise +man. + +_Boy_. True, Maister, but if youle see a foole, looke in your Glasse, +maister! + +_Phy_. Goe to, I must correct you, Boy. + +_Boy_. You can correct no more then is your own; I am but halfe yours to +commaund, if you steale away any parte that is not your owne you are so +farre in daunger as the striking of an other mans servant. + +_Scil_.[234] By this illuminate welkin! most sincere and singular: as a +small remembrance. + +_Serv_. Not for to winne the faire _Angelica_. + +_Scillicet_. By this illuminate Welkin ye shall now.[235] Sir, I doe not +bestowe it, for that I thinke you have neede of it; for if you had, by +this bright Horizon, I would not give it, for I know tis no credit to +give to the poore. By this illuminate welkin I have (since I tooke upon +me this fleshie desire of a Gentleman) throwne out of a window, for a +hunts-up, when I had as leef have heard the grinding of a Mustard-Mill; +for those are thinges are heere too day, and gone to morrowe; this will +sticke by a man, and doe him credit where ere hee goes. + +_Acut_. I, when the foole is clad in clay, +It will sticke sore unto thy soule for aye. + +_Phy_. Signior _Scillicet_, I assure you I have discovered the most +queint and new-found device for the encounter of the Ladies at the +interview; tis in pricke-song. + +_Scil_. That's excellent and rare. + +_Phi_. I, for prick-song to Ladies is most pleasant and delightfull: as +thus for your congie, All hayle to my belooved; then for your departure, +sad dispaire doth drive me hence: for all must be to effect. + +_Grac_. Nay, prethee raise no quarrels. + +_Acut_. I can holde no longer: heare you, sir, are not you a foole? and +you an Asse? and you a knave? + +_Phy_. Zoundes! an Asse? + +_Scil_. A Foole? + +_Ser_. A Knave, without respect? + +_Acut_. I, for an Asse can beare, a Foole abide, and a Knave deserve. + +_Omn_. Helpe, Helpe! + +_Gra_. Prethee let's away. + +_Acut_. Fooles often brings wise men to trouble, +Farewell, another time ile pay ye double. + [_Exit_. + + _Enter Host, Hostesse, and Prentises_. + +_Host_. Bring your Clubs out of doores. There goe in, my fine hostes, +Ile talke to the proudest; what, knaves are i'th streete, my dore is my +dore, my house is my castell, goe in dame _Helena_, let thine Host alon +with this; he that knocks at my hobby, while I have Ale in my house, +shall pay for a Surgeon: the honest shall come in, the knaves shall go +by; bring Clubs, I say. + +_Scil_. Nay, sir, the heate is past, they that did it have tooke them to +their heeles, for indeed heere are of us-- + +_Host_. Away with your Clubs then; welcome, my brave Bullies, my Guests +shall take no wrong; but welcome, my Bullies. + +_Scil_. Indeede sir, I am a man of few words, I have put up a little +bloodshed; marrie, I hope it shall be no stain to my manhoode, if I +keepe it out of my clothes. + +_Host_. He shall pay for the blood-shed, my guestes shall take no wrong; +mine Host will spend his Cruse as franke as an Emperor; welcome, my +brave bullies. + +_Ser_. Sir, be pacificall, the fellowe was possest with some critique +frenzie, and wee impute it to his madnes. + +_Scil_. Madde! by Gods slid, if he were as madde as a weaver, I can +hardly put it up; for my blow, I care not so much, but he cald me foole; +slid, if I live till I dye, the one of us shall prove it. + +_Host_. Some prophane Villaine, ile warrant him. + +_Scil_. Doe you thinke I may not have an action against him? + +_Host_. There's so many swaggerers; but alasse, how fel ye out? + +_Scil_. By the welkin, I gave him not a foule word; first he calles me +foole, then he makes a full blowe at my body, and if, by good chance, I +had not warded it with my head, he might have spoild me. + + _Enter Prentices_. + +_Host_. There, there my fine fil-pots; give the word as you passe; anon, +anon, sir anon; heere and there in the twinckling, looke well at the +barre, there again my little Mercuries, froath them up to the brimme, +and fill as tis needeful; if their Pates be full of Wine let your +Pottles be three quarters; trip and goe, here and there; now, my brave +Lad, wash thy woundes with good Wine; bidde am welcom, my little Sybil; +put sugar in his hole there, I must in to my guests; sleepe soundly till +morning; Canarie is a Jewell, and a Figge for Browne-bastard.[236] + [_Exit_. + +_Hostes_. Gentlemen, ye are welcom, though my husband be a little +talkative, yet truly he is an unreasonable honest man, yee shall finde +his words and his sayings all one. + +_Scil_. I thinke no less, yet I would desire to enter as time and place +shall serve. + +_Hostes_. Ile lead the way forsooth. + +_Phy_. Nay, pray ye, Hostesse, a word. I say little, but i'me sure I +have sustained the most wrong; by this light, I had rather he had broke +my head in three places; I pray you lend me a brush, hee has put my hat +quite out of fashion. + +_Host_. That shall ye sir, a brush there, hoe! + + _Enter[237] Boss, with the dog_. + +_Bos_. _Salve, sis salvus_. I pray yee which of you five is Hostis of +this house? + +_Boy_. That's easily discernd, for foure weare breeches. + +_Bos_. Nere the sooner for that, my diminitive youth, for women now +adaies weare breeches as well as men; mary, the difference lies in the +bawble. + +_Hostis_. Well, sir, to open the truth, I am the Hostesse. + +_Bos_. The fruit is known, by the Tree at the first view, as the Author +writes, learnedly; come _basilus manus_.[238] + +_Scil_. This kissing becomes a Gentleman, ile use it sure.[239] + +_Bos_. Secondly, Mistris Hostesse, I would know what lodging ye have for +my Lady and her traine. + +_Hostis_. What will serve your turne, sir? + +_Bos_. Ile call my selfe to account and specifie thus: my Lady and her +Dogge, that's two visible; then there's the Dogge and my Lady, thats +four invisible; then there's my Ladies dogge and I, quoth the dogge, +that's six; then theres sequence of three, viz., the Dogge, and I, and +my Lady; then there's a pair of Knaves, viz., the Dogge & my selfe & my +Lady turnd up; viz., my Lady sequence of three, a paire of Knaves and my +Lady, turn'd up to play upon:--we can have no less than five beds. + +_Hostis_. Truely you must lye close together (the Servants I meane), for +I am so thrust with Guest I [c]an hardly spare so many. + +_Bos_. Faith, weele lie together as close as we can; there's my Lady and +her dogge lye al together and I at the bed's feete, and theres all our +family of Love.[240] + +_Hostis_. How farre is your mistris behinde? + +_Bos_. The truth is the fatall sisters have cut the thred of her +Cork-shoe, & shee's stept aside in to a Coblers shop to take a true +stitch, whether I mean to send myself as a Court of Guard to conduct +her, but see, oh inconstant fortune! see where she comes, _solus_. + + _Enter[241] Getica_. + +_Gent_. _Bos_, you serve me well, to let me wait upon my selfe. + +_Bos_. Of two evils, the least is to be chosen, I had a care of your +puppie being less then your selfe. + +_Scil_. Gentlewoman, you have an excellent Ch: [sic] I have an appetite +as a man would say. + +_Gent_. Whats your will, sir? + +_Scil_. Truth will to light, and the truth is I have an appetite to +kisse you. + +_Phil_. This point would become a Gentleman, sure; I pray, who trim'd it +so? + +_Gent_. My man, forsooth. + +_Phy_. Sir, I desire your acquaintance; tis excellent, rare. + +_Gent_. You would have said so, had you seene it an houre since. + +_Ser_. Heeres game for me! I hunt for fooles and have sprung a covey. + +_Hostis_. Gentles, please you, draw neere? lead the way into the +chambers. + +_Bos_. _Bos_ is the name of a thing may be seene, felt, heard, or +understood, and the nominative case goes before my Mistris the Verbe; my +mistris requires an accusative case to follow, as _usus feminae proptus +facit_. + [_Exeunt al but Hostis_. + +_Hostis_. Oh fye upont, who would be an hostis, & could do otherwise? +[A] Ladie [h]as the most lascivious life, conges and kisses, the tyre, +the hood, the rebato, the loose bodyed Gowne, the pin in the haire, and +everie day change, when an Hostis must come and go at everye mans +pleasure. And what's a Lady more then another body? Wee have legs, and +hands, rowling eyes and hanging lips, sleek browes, and cherie cheeks & +other things as Ladies have, but the fashion carries it away. + + _Prentices passe over_. [_Re-enter[242] Host_.] + +_Host_. There, there, my little Lacky boies, againe, again, my fine +fil-pots! where is my fine Hostis? come, come, my little _Dido_, set +your corks on a creaking, my knaves are unthrifty; dance not your +Canaries heere up & down, looke about to my Guests I say. + +_Hostis_. I, I have much joy, an Hostesse! + +_Host_. What, abides my _Penelope_? heere stand[s] thy _Ulisses_, +ile tarry with thee still, thou shall want for no cost. Ile buy thee +a brave wistle; looke about to my Guestes, I say. + +_Hostis_. I, Hostesses will bee knowne shortelye as their Signes; still +in one weather-beaten suite, as though none weare hoodes but Monkes and +Ladies, and feathers but fore-horses and Waiting Gentlewomen, or chaines +but prisoners and Courtiers; no Perywigges but Players and Pictures: but +the weakest must to the wall still. + +_Host_. Tush, tush, these are toies; ile none of these Flipflaps, ile +have no soping, no puffs, nor no Cobwebs, no busks, nor bumbarrels;[243] +thou shalt weare thine own haire & fine cloath of Sheep-skins, thy +colour shall be Dowlas as white as a Lillie, ile kisse these +chop-cheries; thou shalt goe Gossip at Shrovetide; look about to my +Guests then. [_Exit_. + +_Hostis_. I, twas my hard fortune to be an Hostesse; time was I might +have done other wise. + + _Enter Cittizens Wife_. + +_City W_. Why how now, woman, a'th olde disease still? will it never be +better? cannot a Woman finde one kinde man amongst twentie? Ah the daies +I have seen, when a Womans will was a lawe: If I had a mind to such a +thing, or such a thing, I could have had it, but twa's never better +since men were Purse-bearers. + +_Hosty_. Mine is een the unnaturallist man to his Wife. + +_Citie wi_. Truely, and commonly are all such fat men: ile tell thee, +Gossip, I have buried sixe, I, sixe husbands, but if I should live to +have as many more, as I know not what may happen, but sure Ide never +have such a fatte man: they be the most unweldey men; that woman[244] +shall not want a sore stomack, that's troubled with them I warrant her. + +_Hosty_. And hee maintaines me heare like I knowe not what. + +_City wi_. I, and what say, they are their wives head; well if he be the +head, shee's the body, and the body is to beare the head, and the body +is to beare the pursse. + +_Hostis_. They cannot misse us, yet they regard us not. + +_Citty wife_. Misse us! no faith, but would all women were of my minde, +they call us weaker vessels, they should finde vessels of us, but no +weake vessels, I warrant them. + + _Enter[245] Prentice_. + +_Pren_. Mistris, my Maister cals for ye. + +_Hostis_. Goe, ile come anon, hees not so hastie to give me what I want, +I warrant ye. + + [_Exit[245] Prentice_. + +_City w_. No, would he were; little thinkes the husband what goes +through the wives hand, washing, wringing, and rubbing, up early, down +late, & a thousand things they looke not too. + +_Hostis_. And yet they must have the government of all. + +_City w_. And great reason they have for it, but a wise man will put in +a Woman's hand: what sheele save that hee spends. + +_Hostis_. You have a pretty Ruffe, how deepe is it? + +_City w_. Nay, this is but shallowe, marrie I have a Ruffe is a quarter +deepe, measured by the yard. + +_Hostis_. Indeede, by the yard. + +_City w_. By the standard: you have a pretty set too, how big is the +steele you set it with? + +_Hostis_. As bigge as a reasonable sufficient-- + + _Enter Prentice_. + +_Pren_. Mistris, my Maister would desire you to come in. + +_Citty w_. What? she shall not come yet: if you lay down the bucklers, +you lose the victorie. + +_Hostis_. By my troth, I must goe, we shall have such a coyle else. + +_Cittie w_. A coyle! why, have you not a tongue in your head? faith if +ye win not all at that weapon, yee are not worthy to be a woman. You +heare not the news abroade? + +_Hostis_. No: what newes? + +_City W_. No, I warrant ye, you never come abroad; this is to be +troubled with a fatte man, he never comes abroad himself nor suffers his +wife out of his sight: yee shall ever have a fatte Host either on his +bench at the dore or in his chair at the chimney; & there he spits and +spaules a roome like twentie Tobacco-takers. Oh! fye on them, beasts! + +_Hostis_. I prethee, what newes? + +_Citty w_. Oh! woman, the most hardfavoured newes, and without all +conscience: they say theres a statute made, any woman that buries her +husband is not to marrie againe of two monthes after. + +_Hostis_. A tedious time, by Lady; a month were enough. + +_Cittie w_. I, halfe a month; winter nights are long and colde. Ile tell +ye, I have buried sixe, and thank my good fortune I ever knewe the next +ere the other was in his winding sheete. + +_Pre_. Mistris, my maister is angrie, and the Guests cal for their +Hostesse. + +_Hostis_. Goe, I come: Gossip, when shall I see you agen? + +_Citty w_. Nay, when shall I see you abroad? sildome, i'me sure. + +_Hostis_. I must needes away; God buy you, Gossip. + +_Cittie w_. God buy ye; Gods so, I have forgot wherefore I came: a word +ere you goe, the party yee wott on commends him unto ye, he that met the +other party in the white felt, the yellow scarf, and the round +_Venetian_,[246] when the other party kis't you, and I broake the jest +on him, when hee said kisses kindeles Coules and love searches. + +_Hostis_. Oh! I remember him, yes faith, hee's prettie well set; hee +ha's the right trick with the tongue in his kisse, and hee dances +reasonably comely, but he fals heavie. + +_Citty w_. He savours of a kinde of Gallant, but not of a Courtyer. + +_Hostis_. Well weele have a night out, god be with ye, Gossip. + +_Cittie wife_. God buy ye. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +[ACT THE SECOND. + +_Scene 1_.] + + + _Enter Lentulus and Tulley_. + +_Lentu_. Not yours nor her owne, _Terentia_.--Yours in modestie, _Flavia_. +See, _Tulley_, what an active passive love hath plaide; +I love and am again beloved, but at the shrine +Where I do offer up my Cordiall sacrifice, +I am returnd with peremptorie scorne; +And where I stand but as a gazer, viewing +All alike, I am pursude +With violent passions, a speaking eye +Bindes favours and now discovering lines.[247] +Thy counsell now, deere friend; for at thy direction +Stands my thrall or freedome. + +_Tul_. Oh my Lord, affection is unlimited, +Daring all dangers, having no tipe nor figure, +Beyond all arte. +Then tye not that (Great Lord,) to _Tullies_ awe; +Fancy forswears all reason, love all lawe. + +_Lent_. How well thy power can shun that which +I followe with obedience. Too true yfaith; +Thou mightst as well put out the eie of day, +Or cover sinne from heaven, or to erect +A towre of sand on the uncertain surge, +Or any thing that were more inficient, +Then to remoove one doting thought of mine +From her disdain. Thy aide, deere _Tulley_, +Be thou an Orratour for _Lentulus_, +My tongue stands tun[è]d to a harsher method; +Breath in her eares, those Organs of receite, +A quintessence distild of honny words, +And charme with a beguiling lullabye +Her free consent to thine and my request: +Which done, thats done which is my sole delight, +Which done, thats done that I can never quite. + +_Tull_. All which to me are problematique mines, +Obscurde inigmaes, and to my studies +Incognite Language; yet, if my powers +Have power to cloath my tongue in love, +Ile be a Lover and in love so pleade +As if that _Tully_ loved _Terentia_. + +_Lent_. Thanks, sweete _Cicero_; +This day we dine with olde _Flaminius_, +The forward Father of my Aukeward love. +His willing minde doth strive to make the peace +Betwixt our discord thoughts; his free consent +Is given to _Lentulus_; there, _Tulley_, take on holde, +And, when a Sunne of thy intent shines fayre, +Onset loves fort with polliticke assaults +And conquer; conquest in obtaining that +Where victors are repulsed. But see! our talke +Hath over-tane our way; see, olde _Flaminius_ +Comes to welcome us. +With him a looke like[248] the bright orient verge +At the uprising of _Auroraes_ shine. + + _Enter Flaminius, Terentia, and Flavia_. + +_Flam_. And, my good Lorde, y'are happily met. Heartily welcome; young +_Tullie_, welcome to; yee come wel to ease my charge, these Ladies find +fault with their Guardian, I goe too softly for them: old blood is +stiffe, & young Ladies will not beare with age; I resigne, I resigne, to +you that followe. + +_Lent_. If they admit us for their Guardian, +Weele dare dangers ere we part from them. + +_Flam_. Why well saide, my Lords, Soldiers will not flye indeede; I have +seene the day, I could have crackt a tree of yew, made my bowstring +whisper in mine eare in[249] the twang, tost my pike lustilye. Tis since +the siedge of _Parthia_: bith-'mas a great while; I was lustie then at +the service was done there, yet I love the discourse. Come my Lord, I +chuse your companye, leave _Tulley_ to the Ladies; he can tell them +tales of _Venus_ and _Adonis_ and that best pleaseth them. Now I must +heere of raps and blowes, and Bils and Guns, and swords and bucklers. I +loved it once; come, our Cookes are backeward, discourse will beget +stomacks; y'are like to tarrie long for leane Cates. [_Exit_. + +_Lent_. Now, gentle _Tulley_, advocate my suite; +Her fore-amazing person makes me mute. + +_Cicero_. He beare these Ladies company if they +Shall deeme acceptance. [_Exit_. + +_Teren_. With interest of thankes to Cicero. + +_Flav_. Faith, I like not this ods of female, an equallitie were better: +yet of both twere fitter the woman should undergoe the oddes. I had +rather a said three men to one woman, then two women to one man. Heeres +_Tulley_ addrest to _Terentia, Terentia_ drawing neere to _Tulley_; +her's smal comfot [_sic_] left for _Flavia_. Wel, gentles, ile leave ye +to the Goddesse. So ho! my Lords, take me with ye. + +_Teren_. Nay stay, good _Flavia_. Youle not loose the sight of +_Lentulus_. + +_Fla_. Nor you of _Tulley_; come, if you tel, ile blab. + +_Cice_. But, sweete Lady, _Tulley_ is not heere. + +_Fla_. But _Cicero_ is, his neere friend, thats as good. + +_Cice_. He was, Lady, till hee changed his habit by putting on the +office of an unskillful Servingman, intending to garde _Terentia_ to her +father's house. + +_Fla_. Then _Flavia_ must gard her self; wel use good words and good +action, and stalke well before your Ladie; she's kinde, yfaith, and a +little thing will please her. + +_Ter_. Will it please _Flavia_ to partake? + +_Fla_. Oh fye! twere an injurie I could [not] brook myself, therefore +ile leave ye; but be breefe, stand not on pointes, cut them all first; & +if ye fall to kissing, kisse not too long for feare ye kisse the post. + +_Teren_. Goe to, youle still be a wagge, _Flavia_. +But what saies _Tulley_ to _Terentia_? + + [_Exit_[250] _Flavia_. + +_Cicero_. Lady I must maintain my former argument. +_Tullie's_ not heere but heere is _Tullies_ friend; +For, ere I speake, I must intreate you wil +Transforme poore _Tulley_ into _Lentulus_. + +_Teren_. I have no power of Metamorphosing; +If _Tulley_ be not heere, you must concede,[251] +I cannot make of _Tulley Lentulus_. + +_Cice_. Nor can the world make _Cicero_ so worthy. +Yet for an houre['s] discourse a Pesant's shape +May represent the person of a king; +Then in the person of the great _Lentulus_ +I doe salute Sunne-bright _Terentia_. +Lady, vouchsafe a Saint-like smile on him +(From that angell forme) whose honord minde +Lies prostrate lowly at _Terentia's_ feete; +Who hath put off a Golden victors honour +And left the _Parthyan_ spoyle to _Lepido_; +Whome many Ladies have bedecked with favours +Of rich esteeme, oh proud he deignd to weare them, +Yet guiftes and givers hee did slight esteeme; +For why? the purpose of his thoughts were bent +To seek the love of faire _Terentia_. +The cho[i]ce is such as choiser cannot bee +Even with a nimble eye; his vertues through +His smile is like the Meridian Sol +Discern'd a dauncing in the burbling brook; +His frowne out-dares the Austerest face +Of warre or Tyranny to sease upon; +His shape might force the Virgine huntresse +With him for ever live a vestall life; +His minde is virtues over-matcht, yet this +And more shall dye if this and more want force +To win the love of faire _Terentia_. +Then, gentle Lady, give a gentle do[o]me; +Never was brest the Land-lord to a heart +More loving, faithful, or more loyall then is +The brest of noble-- + +_Teren_. _Tullie_! + +_Tul_. _Lentulus_! + +_Ter_. And why not _Tullie_? + +_Tul_. It stands not aptly. + +_Tere_. I wants a sillible. + +_Tul_. It doth. + +_Tere_. Then noble _Cicero_. + +_Tul_. Thats too deere. + +_Tere_. Gentle is as good: +Then say the best of gentle _Cicero_. + +_Tul_. Good Lady, wrong not your honour so +To seate unworthy _Tully_ with your worth. +Oh looke upon the worth of _Lentulus_, +Let your faire hand be beame unto the ballance +And with a stedded peyze lift up that beame. +In th'one[252] scale put the worth of _Lentulus_, +His state, his honors, and his revenewes; +Against that heavy waite put povertie, +The poore and naked name of _Cicero_, +A partner of unregarded Orators; +Then shall you see with what celeritie +One title of his worth will soone pull up +Poore _Tullies_ dignitie. + +_Tere_. Just to the height of _Terentias_ heart +Where I will keepe and Character that name, +And to that name my heart shall adde that love +That shall wey downe the worth of _Lentulus_. + +_Tul_. Deare Madam. + +_Tere_. Speake still, if thou wilt, but not for him; +The more thou speak'st the more augments my love, +If that thou can'st adde more to infinite; +The more thou speakest the more decreaseth his, +If thou canst take away ought from nothing; +Thinke, _Tulley_, if _Lentulus_ can love me, +So much and more _Terentia_ doth love thee. + +_Tull_. Oh Madam, +_Tulley_ is poore, and poore is counted base. + +_Ter_. Vertue is ritch and blots a poore disgrace. + +_Tul_. _Lentulus_ is great, his frowne's my woe, +And of a friend he will become my foe. + +_Ter_. As he is friend, we will intreate his love; +As he is great, his threatenings shall not make me love. + +_Tul_. Your fathers graunt makes _Lentulus_ your Lord. + +_Teren_. But if thereto his daughter not accord, +That graunt is cancel'd; fathers may commaund +Life before love, for life to true love's paund. + +_Tul_. How will _Flaminius_ brooke my povertie? + +_Ter_. Well, when _Flaminius_ see's no remedie. +Lord how woman-like are men when they are woe'd! +_Tully_, weigh me not light, nere did immodest blush +Colour these cheeckes, but ardent. + +_Tully_. Silence, sweet Lady, heere comes _Flavia_. + + _Enter_[253] _Flavia_. + +_Fla_. Fie, Fie, how tedius ye are; yonders great looking for _Tulley_, +the old senate has put on his spectacles, and _Lentulus_ and he are +turning the leaves of a dog-hay [?], leaves of a worm-eaten Chronicle, +and they want _Tullies_ judgment. + +_Tul_. About what, sweet Lady? + +_Fla_. To know what yeare it was the showers of raine fell in Aprill. + +_Tul_. I can resolve it by rote, Lady, twas that yeare the Cuckoo sung +in May: another token Lady; there raigned in Rome a great Tyrant that +yeare, and many Maides lost their heads for using flesh on Fish-daies. + +_Fla_. And some were sacrificed as a burnt offering to the Gods of +Hospitallitie, were they not? + +_Tul_. Y'are a wag, _Flavia_, but talk and you must needes have a +parting blowe. + +_Flav_. No matter so we stand out and close not. + +_Tull_. Or part faire at the close and too't again. + +_Flav_. Nay, if we should too't againe, _Terentia_ would growe jealous. + +_Tul_. Ladies, I take my leave +And my love. + +_Ter_. Take heede ye sigh not, nor looke red at the table, _Tully_. + + [_Exit [Tully]_. + +_Flav_. Your shoe wrings you, Lady. + +_Ter_. Goe to, ye are a wanton, _Flavia_. + +_Fla_. How now _Terentia_, in your nine Muses? +Theres none must pleade in your case but an Orator. + +_Ter_. I want one indeede Wench, but thou hast two, and the gentle +destinies may send thee three; neere blush, for smoke and the fire of +a womans love cannot bee hid. Oh a fine tongue dipt in _Helicon_! a +comedian tongue is the onely perswasive ornament to win a Lady; why his +discourse is as pleasant-- + +_Fla_. As how, I prethee? + +_Ter_. And keepes as good decorum; his prologue with obedience to the +skirt; a rough Sceane of ciuill Warres and a clapping conclusion; +perhappes a Jigge;[254] if not, the Tragicomicall tale of _Mars_ and +_Venus_; then must she take the Tale by the end, where he defending +_Mars_, & she _Venus_, must fall from billing to byting, from byting to +blowes, to get the supremacie. + +_Fla_. A good policie to praise _Cicero_, +For feare I rob you of your _Lentulus_. + +_Ter_. Faith, a Souldier is not for thy[255] humor; now I crie a +Warrier; he fights stoutly in a field-bed, discharges his work sure, +under his Curtaines would I fight. But come, our Lovers melt while we +meditate; thou for thy Scholler, I for my soldier; and if we can not +please them so, weele shake off this loose habit and turn Pages to suit +their humors. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +[Scene 2.] + + + _Enter Accutus and Graccus_. + +_Grac_. Come, _Accutus_, discharge your follower; lets leave rubbing a +while, since the byas runs so much the wrong way. Sirra! these bowles +which we roule and turn in our lower sypher are by use made wodden +worldlings right, for every one strives who shall lye neerest the +mistris.[256] + +_Ac_. They post indeed, as their nature is, in an even way, but they are +cowards, theile abide no danger, they rub at everie mole-hil; if they +tyre in going up a hill, they retire and come back againe. + +_Grac_. Well let them alley, bet all, then to rest away, begone. + +_Acut_.[257] S'foote _Graccus_, heeres a couple of our old gamsters. Oh! +for quick conceite to beget a jest! heeres two, that either a man must +be aquainted or quarrell with, & of two evils ile chose the latter; I +hope I make it the lesser. If I should be acquainted, the foole will +haunt me, if I quarrell I may be so blest, as to be rid of a foole. + +_Grac_. I have a womans wit for a suddaine stratageme. + + _Enter Scil. and Servulis_.[258] + +_Scil_. No, by my troth, by this bright horrison-- + +_Accut_. An excellent Cuckoo, hee keepes his note in Winter. + +_Scil_. I haue no appetite at all to live in the countrie any more; now, +as they say, I have got a smacke on the Cittie. Slid, I thinke (as the +proverbe goes) I was wrapt in my mother's smocke the day I was begotten, +I thank the Goddesse _Cupid_ for it. I am so favourd of the Women, my +hostes loves me execrably. + +_Accut_. Good reason, fooles make good sport. + +_Grac_. Sever, sever, ere wee bee discovered. + +_Ser_. Sir, the respective regard of your well governed partes do +challenge a mellifluous species of enduement or contumelious estimation. + +_Grac_. Gentles, God save ye, well over-taken Gallants. + +_Scil_. Welcome, by the welkin. + +_Grac_. This is verie pleasant weather. + +_Ser_. Sir the ayre is frugall. + +_Grac_. Is that Gentleman of your Company? + +_Scil_. Our company sir, no, we are no companions for lame Souldiers. + +_Grac_. Propper man, pittie he is so regardles. A good legge, it seemes +he has some greefe in it. + +_Scil_. Nay, and he be lame, ile talke to him; there's so many lustie +knaves walkes now a daies will not sticke to give a man hard words, if +he be not disposed to charitie. Harke ye sir, I understand ye are a +propper man, and that you have a good legge. + +_Accut_. And what of that, Sir? + +_Scil_. What of that! slid, he answers me like a sturdie beggar +alreadie! by the five elements, or sences, I aske ye for no hurt, ile +bestowe my charitie as franke as-- + +_Acut_. Stoope and looke out, zounds a Gentleman cannot come by a +misfortune in service or so, but everie foole wil ride him. Take that. + [_Exit_. + +_Gra_. Sirra, stay, ile combat thee in his defence. + +_Serv_. Sir, be pacifical, the impotent must be lightly regarded. + +_Grac_. Give me leave Gentlemen, ile follow him. + +_Scil_. Nay, I pray you be malcontented, I have no great hurt, but in +revenge hee's a rascall for using me so; he may thank God, discretion +governed me, tis wel known I have always bene a man of peace; ile not +strike yee the least mouse in anger, nor hurt the poorest Conney that +goes in the street, for I know of fighting comes quarrelling, of +quarrelling comes brawling, and of brawling growes hard words, and as +the learned _puerelis_[259] writes, tis good sleeping in a whole skin. + +_Grac_. Sir, your discretion shall governe me at this time. Your name, I +pray ye sir? + +_Scil_. My name is signior _Scillicet_. + +_Grac_. Even so sir? nay, sir, I doe not forget your Argument. + + _Enter Accutus_. + +_Acut_. Save ye, sir, saw ye not a Gentleman come this way even now, +somewhat hurt in one of his Legges? + +_Scil_. He went by even now, sir; is he a friend of yours? + +_Acu_. A deare friend, and a propper Gentleman, sir. + +_Scil_. By the horison hee's a propper man indeede, he gave me the time +of day as he went by, I have a gallon of wine for him at any time. If ye +see anything in me worth Commendations, I pray ye commend me to him. + +_Acut_. I will sir;--twere best you gave me good words, but ile trie ye +farther yet;--fare ye well, sir. + +_Scil_. I pray you remember me to him.--You see my anger is over +already. [_Exit[260] Acutus_. + +_Grac_. Would ye not strike him? lets followe. + +_Scil_. Indeede ye shall not, I hate it. + +_Ser_. I will not be barren of my armorie, in my future perambulation +for the lower element. + +_Grac_. You are too patient in wrongs, sir.--Zoundes I know not how to +picke a quarrell. + +_Serv_. Sir, the grievous youth is inwardlye possest of a supple spirit, +he can brooke impugnying, but tis adverse to my spirit if I were armed. + + _Enter Accutus_. + +_Accut_. Save ye, gallants, sawe ye not a fellowe come halting this way +of late? + +_Scil_. Hath he done any hurt, or is hee a friend of yours? + +_Acut_. Hee's a Rascall and ile maintaine him so. + +_Scil_. Hee's a verie Rascall indeede, and he used mee like a knave: if +ere I meete him, I shall hardly put it up; I have it in blacke and blue +to shew heere. + +_Serv_. Say, I breath defyance to his front. + +_Acut_. Challenge him the field. + +_Scil_. Doos't thinke heele answere me? I'l challenge him at the +pich-fork, or the Flaile, or ile wrastle a fall with him for a bloody +nose; anye weapon I have bene brought up in ile-- + +_Accut_. What will ye? heere he is, you minime, that will be friend with +friends and foe with foes; and you that will defie _Hercules_, and +out-brave _Mars_ and feares not the Devil; passe, bladder, ile make ye +swell. + +_Scil_. By Gods-lid, if I had knowne it had bene you, I would not have +said so to your face. + [_Exeunt_. + +_Accut_. Away, with your Champion, goe. + +_Grac_. This was excellentlye performed, ifaith a better breathing then +a game at bowles. + +_Accut_. Theile give you the good salve at any time this month, for I am +sure they have salving enough for so long. + +_Grac_. I pittie the foole yfaith, but the tother Horseleach I wish his +blowes trebled. I converst with him, but a Rogue so stuft with the +lybrary of new minted[261] words, so tearing the sence, I never met +with. + +_Accut_. But now we have spoilde our determinate dinner at my hostesse +of the Hobbye; we shall nowe bee knowne. + +_Grac_. That holds well still, I am taken for a prooved friend, and thou +shalt be disguised, till, I have wrought a league by vertue of a pottle +of Canarie. + +_Acut_. Content, mine Host shall be accessarie and ile be a serviter to +observe myracles. + +_Grac_. They are good subjects for idle houres:--but soft, what second +course is entring heere? + + _Enter Phy., Bos, and Boy_. + +_Phy_. _For I did but kisse her; Bos_, how lik'st thou my relish? + +_Bos_. Oh sir, relish but your licour, as you doe your song, you may goe +drunke to bed any day in the weeke. + +_Phy_. _Sister_,[262] _awake, close not, &c_. Does my face hold colour +still? + +_Bos_. I, and you would but scaviage the pavilion of your nose. + +_Gra_. I, marrie, _Accutus_, how lik'st thou this Gentlewoman Gallant? + +_Accut_. A good states-man, for common-wealth of Brownists; the Rogue +hates a Church like the Counter. + +_Gra_. I, and if my Ladie Argentile were dead, he wold rather live upon +almes then fall to worke. + +_Accut_. So he might have tolleration.--What, shal's close with them? + +_Gra_. In any case, but in some mild imbrace, for if we should continue +thus rough, we should be shunned like an Appoplex. + +_Accut_. Gallants, the fortune of the day runs with ye: what all at +mumchance?[263] how is't? how is't? + +_Phy_. Sir, I think twas you bestowed some abuse of me tother day. + +_Accu_. Which I would wipe out of your memorie +With satisfaction of a double courtesie. + +_Phy_. I accept it ifaith, sir, I am not prone to anger, I assure ye the +following night knew not my anger. Your acquaintance, Signior. + +_Gra_. Fye, without ceremony lets yoake this triplicity as we did in the +daies of olde, with mirth and melody. + +_Phy_. I, say you? so then _Coll_[264] _her and clip her and kisse her, +too, &c_. + +_Bos_. The triplicitie! heere's those has supt at an ordinarie. + +_Accu_. This gallant humors. + +_Gra_. But the other walkes aloofe. + +_Bos_. The triplicite! heere's those has crackt glasses and drawn blood +of a Tapster. + +_Gra_. The visitation of your hand, sir. + +_Bos_. The Triplicitie! will colours change? + +_Acut_. Sir, take no offence, I beseech ye, we gave onlye satisfaction +for an olde injurie, but in the degree of amitie your selfe sits in the +superlative. + +_Bos_. No sir, but in respect. + +_Gra_. What kinde is your Dogge of, sir? + +_Bos_. Verie kinde to anything but his meat, that hee devours with great +alacritie. + +_Grac_. Where was he bred? + +_Bos_. In a Bitch. + +_Gra_. What Countrie? + +_Bos_. A kind of Mungrill, he will carrie but not fetch, marrie hee is +to be put to a dauncing schoole for instruction. + +_Acut_. The tricke of the rope were excellent in him, & that ile teach +him, if I misse not my mark. Come, Gallants, we waste time, the first +Taverne we arrive at weel see the race of an houre-glasse. + +_Phy_. Can ye a part in a Song? + +_Gra_. Verie tollerably. + +_Phy_. Weele have a catch then, if with sol, sol, la: Gentlemen have you +any good herbe? you have match, boy. + +_Boy_. Your pipe shall want no fire sir. + +_Acut_. Oh, without ceremony: now, _Graccus_, if we can but pawne their +senses in Sack and Sugar, let mee alone to pursue the sequell. + +_Gra_. Follow it away. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +[_Scene_ 3.] + + + _Enter Hostis, Cittizens wife, Servulus, and Scillicet_. + +_Hostis_. Come, come, bring them out of the ayre: alas good hearts, what +rogorous villaine would commit with him? ile tell ye Gosip, hee's eene +as kinde an animall, he would not wrong them y'faith. + +_Citty wife_. Tush, feare nothing woman, I hope to make him so again. +Alacke, alacke, how fell you out all a head?[265] Oh Butcher! are ye +hurt in another place? + +_Hostis_. Did he not throw you against the stones? If he did, doe not +conceale, I dare say you gave them not a foule word. + +_Scil_. By the illuminate welkin not a word till my mouth was full of +blood, and so made my words foule. + +_Citty wife_. Is not this Gentleman hurt too? + +_Serv_. Onelye the extravagant Artire[266] of my arme is brused. + +_Cittie wi_. See, see, the extravagant of his arme is brused to. Alas, +how could ye quarrell so? + +_Serv_. I will demonstrate: in the defence of the generous youth I did +appugne my adverse, let violently flie. + +_Cittie wife_. Ah good hearts! would I had stood between you, when he +let flie so violently. + +_Ser_. We voide of hostile armes. + +_Hostis_. I, if they had had horses, they had sav'd their armes. + +_Serv_. Be capable, I meane, void of armorie. + +_Citty-wife_. Untill ye had armor on. + +_Serv_. Had I bene accompanied, with my Toledo or morglay.[267] + +_Cittie wife_. I, your Dogge or Bitch. + +_Serv_. Continue, I beseech, I meane my sword, sole lye my sword. + +_Cittie wife_. Or solely your sword, better a bad toole then none +at all. + +_Serv_. In the concourse-- + +_Cittie w_. Nay, the concourse will light on him for it, I warrant. + +_Serv_. I, for the tuition of my Capitall, did mount my Semisphere, +three degrees, that as a strong, & stony guard did defend my Capitall. + +_Citty w_. Twas well ye kept him out, for if he had entered on your +stony Guard, he would have spoilede your Capitall. + +_Serv_. In fine, being mortally assaild, he did preambulate [_sic_] or +walk off. + +_Scil_. Yes, faith, he did preambulate, and walke mee finely. + +_Cittie w_. Good heartes, how many were there of them? + +_Serv_. About the number of seaven. + +_Scil_. I, there was seaven. + +_Serv_. Or eight. + +_Scil_. Or eight. + +_Serv_. Rather more. + +_Citty w_. I, more at least, I warrant ye. + +_Hostis_. Alasse ye cannot chuse but be more hurt, but ile search you +throughly, be assured. + +_Citty w_. And if she cannot helpe ye fewe can; shee knowes what belongs +to a Tent,[268] or a bruse, and experience is good in those cases. + +_Serv_. I have a concupiscent forme of trust in your skil, it will +malladise. + +_Citty wi_. I, feare not, put both your concupisences in me for that +matter. + +_Serv_. The generous will disburse coynage for satisfaction of your +metaphisicall endevour. + +_Scil_. Yes, yes, I will discharge all. + +_Cittie wife_. Wee make no doubt of that; come into a chamber, ye shall +lye downe awhile; perhaps youle bee stiffe anon, then you shall use your +legges, the more you strive with it the better. Alas, good hearts! + + [_Exeunt_. + +_Phy_. Sol, sol, la! Tapster, give attendance! Gentlemen, I hope all we +are friends, the welkin is skie colour still, and men must grow by +degrees; you must pardon me, I must sp--speak my minde. + +_Grac_. The uttermost of your minde at this time cannot be offensive. + +_Phy_. _The fryer was in the_--sol, sol, draw the tother quart. I hope +you are not angrie gallants; and ye come to my lodging, ye shall be +welcome; my Hostes shall bid you welcome, shee's a good wench; if I say +the word, she wil fa--fullfill it. + +_Acut_. Sirra drawer, for the other thats a sleepe; let him so remaine; +for the Dog, let him be bound to a post for his appearance, till I take +order for his undooing. + +_Draw_. The foole and the Dogge shall both take rest at your commaund, +Sir. + +_Phy_. Gentlemen, I hope we are all friends: sol, sol, shal's have a +catch? + +_Grac_. I, come, come, everie one catch a part. [_Sing_. + +_Phy_. Hey good boies ifaith, now a three man's song, or the olde _downe +a downe_; well things must be as they may, fils the other quart; +muskadine,[269] with an egg is fine, there's a time for all things. +_Bonos nocthus_.[270] [_Sleepe_. + +_Grac_. Good night to you sirs. + +_Accut_. So now, _Graccus_, see what a polluted lumpe, +A deformed _Chaos_ of unsteddy earth +Man is, being in this ill kinde unmand seeming somthing +Bestial man, brutish animall. Well tis thus decreede, +He shall be what he seemes, that's deade. +For what in him shows life but a breathing ayre? +Which by a free constraint it self ingenders +In things without life, as twixt a pair of bellowes +We feele a forcible aire, having of it self +Force and being, no more is this breathing block +But for his use in kinde.--Give out in some bursse or congregation +Among the multitude _Philautus_[271] death. +Let all the customarie rights of funerall, +His knell or what else, be solemnly observed. +Ile take order for his winding sheete, +And further, to furnish it with further suertie, +Ile have a potion that for twentie houres +Shall quench the motion of his breath. Goe, spread, +Let me alone to effect it. + +_Gra_. Ile sow it, I warrant thee; thou talkst of bursse,--I have a way +worth ten on't, ile first give it out in my Barbers shop, then at my +ordinarie, and that's as good as abroad; and as I cross _Tiber_ my +waterman shall attach it, heele send it away with the tide, then let it +come out to an Oyster wenches eare, and sheele crie it up and down the +streetes. + +_Acut_. Let's first secure him from eyes, and at night he shall be +portered to our chamber; so, now away. + +_Grac_. Oh a couple that would spred rarely,[272] lets give it for loves +sake. + + _Enter Hostis and Cittizens wife_. + +_Acut_. Call, call. + +_Grac_. Hem, hem. + +_Citty wife_. A pox on your hemmings, do you think we care for your +hemmings? + +_Hostis_. Tis some stinking troublesome knave, I warrant ye. + +_Citty wife_. Hang him, regard him not; theres hemming indeede, like a +Cat, God blesse us, with a burre in her throate. + [_Exeunt_ + +_Grac_. S'hart, how we are ript up for this? + +_Ac_. Oh man, this hemming is the most hatefulst thing, theres not the +most publique punck,[273] nor worm-eaten bawd that can abide it, and +honestie would run madde to heare it. But come we waste time, tis now +about the mid of day; we must sowe arithmatike by the houres, that +at[274] the morrowes highth _Philautus_ awake again, at which time he +shall be on his Hearse, and all the Guestes of the Hobbye invited to +accompany his ghost, when being awake, himselfe and all shall see if +drunkenesse be not mad misterie. + +_Grac_. But I prethee, practise some milder behaviour at the ordinarie, +be not al madman. + +_Acut_. Push,[275] ile bee all observative, and yet ifaith I grieve to +see this double garded[276] age, all side-coate, all foole. Fye thou +keepest the sports from the marke; away, and returne. What newes is now +in progresse. + +_Grac_. I have the newest. _Terentia_, Daughter to the olde Senate, +thogh _Lentulus_ left the field to come to her, yet she hath forsaken +him in the open field, and shee's for our young Oratour, _Tully_; she +has vowd by _Venus_ legge and the little God of Love, he shall be her +captaine; sheele serve under him, till death us depart,[277] and +thereto, I plight thee my troth. + +_Acut_. More Ladies _Terentias_, I crie still, +That prise a saint before a Silken foole. +She that loves true learning and pomp disdaines +Treads on _Tartarus_ and _Olimpus_ gaines. + +_Grac_. I, marrie, but then would learning be in colours, proud, proud; +then would not foure nobles purchase a benefice, two Sermons in a yeare. + +_Accut_. I, _Graccus,_ now thou hitst the finger right +Upon the shoulder of Ingratitude. +Thou hast clapt an action of flat felony; +Now, ill betide that partiall judgement +That doomes a farmers rich adultus +To the supremacie of a Deanrie, +When needie, yet true grounded Discipline, +Is govern'd with a threed bare Vycarage. + +_Grac_. I, thou speakst well of their sides that are liberally overseene +in the sciences. I take no hold on't, but were all men of thy minde, +then would everie Schoole-maister bee a Senate, and there would never +come Cobler to be Constable againe. + +_Accut_. Ynough, ynough, _Graccus_, let silence seale up our secret +thoughts and libertie say, + + _Virtus sola summa gloria, + Quae format homines vero honore_. + + + + +[ACT THE THIRD. + +_Scene_ 1.] + + + _Enter Flaminius and Tully_. + +_Flam_. Goe to, I say, urge no more, tis Taverne talke, for Taverners +Table talke for all the vomit of rumor. What newes, saies one? none so +new as this: _Tully_ shall be married to _Terentia_. What newes says +another? the same, the same. Whose consent have ye? not mine, I deny it. +I must know of it, ile have a hand; goe to, no more. + +_Tul_. Gentle Sir, +Lay not a leaden loade of foule reproach +Upon so weake a prop; what's done is past recal. +If ought is done, unfitting to be done, +The worst is done, my life must answer it. + +_Flam_. I, you shall answer it in the Senate house, the Emperor shall +knowe it. If she be my childe, I will rule her, ile bridle her, ile +curbe her, ile raine her; if she will not, let her goe, starve, begge, +hang, drawe, sinke, swimme, she gets not a doit, a deneire, ile not owne +her. + +_Tul_. Reverend Sir, be more patient. + +_Flam_. I am impatient, I am troubled, I am vext, I am scoft, I am +pointed at, ile not endure it, ile not abide it, ile be revenged, I wil, +of her, of you both, proud boy, wanton giglot,[278] aspyring, hautie. +Knowe your equals, shee's not for ye, if ye persist, by my holy maker, +you shall answer it, looke to it, you shall, you shall indeede. + [_Exit_[279] _Flaminus_. + +_Tull_. I shall, I must, I will, I will indeede, +Even to the greatest I will answere it; +If great mens eares be ope to inocency, +If greatnesse be not partial with greatenesse, +Even to the greatest I will answere it. +Perhaps, some shallow censurer will say, +The Orator was proud, he would climbe too hie; +But heaven and truth will say the contrarie. +My greatest grief is, I have my friend betraide; +The treasons done, I, and the Traitor's free, +Yet innocent Treason needes not to flee. +His loyaltie bids me abide his frowne, +And he hath power to raise or hurle me downe. + + _Enter_[280] _Terentia_. + +_Tere_. What ailes my _Tully_? wherefore look'st thou sad? +What discontent hath stopped the crimson current +Which ran so cheerefully within that brow, +And makes it sullen like a standing poole? +Tell me who ist hath wrong[d] my _Cicero_? +[Say,[281] is it _Lentulus_?] + +_Tul_. Oh wrong him not. + +_Tere_. Who is it then, that wrongs my _Tully_ so? +What, hath _Terentia_ ought offended thee? +Doost thou recall my former promises? +Dost thou repent thee of-- + +_Tul_. Oh wrong me not. + +_Tere_. What, hath my father done this injurie? +There, there, my thoughts accord to say tis so. +I will deny him then, hee's not my father; +Hee's not my friend will envie _Cicero_. + +_Tul_. Wrong not thy self. + +_Teren_. What heavie string doost thou devide[282] upon? +Wrong not him, wrong not me, wrong not thy selfe. +Where didst thou learne that dolefull mandrake's note +To kill the hearers? _Tully_, canst thou not +Indure a little danger for my love, +The fierie spleene of an angrie Father, +Who like a storme will soon consume it self? +I have indurde a thousand jarring houres +Since first he did mistrust my fancies aime, +And will indure a thousand thousand more +If life or discord either live so long. + +_Tul_. The like will I for sweete _Terentia_. +Feare not, I have approoved armour on, +Will bide the brunt of popular reproach +Or whatsoever. + +_Tere_. Enough, _Tully,_ we are discovered. + + _Enter_[283] _Flavia_. + +_Fla_. Yfaith,[284] are ye at it? what, is there never a loving teare +shed on either side? nor you? nor you? _Tullies_ [eyes] are red, come, +come, ye fooles, be more breefe. I would have buried three husbands, +before youle be married. + +_Tul_. Why lives _Flavia_ a Virgin still? + +_Fla_. Because, I haue vow'd virginitie til I can get a husband. + +_Teren_. Why, _Flavia_, you haue many suitors. + +_Flav_. Oh, I am loaden with suitors; for indeede I am faine to beare +with any of them, I have a dumbe-shewe of all their pictures, each has +sent in his severall shadow, and I swear I had rather have them then the +substance of any of them. + +_Tul_. Can you not describe them in action? + +_Flav_. Yes, and their action; I have one honest man of the age of +fortie five, or there about, that traverses his ground three mile everie +morning to speake to mee, and when hee is come, after the saluting +ceremony, of 'how do you, Lady,' he falles to calculating the nativitie +of the Moone, prognosticating what faire weather will follow, if it +either snow or raine; sometime with a gentle pinche by the fingar +intermixed with the volley[285] of sighes, hee falles to discoursing of +the prise of pease, and that is as pleasing to me as a stinking breath. + +_Tul_. A good description. + +_Fla_. Another brings Letters of commendation from the Constable of the +Parish, or the Church-warden, of his good behaviour and bringing up, how +he could write and reade written hand; further desiring that his Father +would request my Father that his Fathers Sonne might marrie my Fathers +Daughter and heele make her a joynter of a hundred pound a yeare, and +beget three or foure fooles to boote. + +_Teren_. Better and better. + +_Tul_.[286] _Usus promptus [sic] facit; Faemina[e] ludificantur +viros_; well, forward. + +_Flav_.[287] I have another that I prise derer then the rest, a most +sweete youth, and if the wind stand with him I can smell him half a +mile ere hee come at me, indeede hee weares a Musk-cat--what call ye +it?--about him. + +_Tul_. What doe you call it? + +_Flav_. What ye will, but he smels better then burnt Rosemarie, as well +as a perfuming pan, and everie night after his first sleepe writes +lovesicke sonnets, railing against left handed fortune his foe,[288] +that suffers his sweet heart to frowne on him so. + +_Tul_. Then it seemes you graunt him no favour. + +_Flav_. Faith, I dare not venture on him, for feare he should be rotten; +give me nature, not arte. + +_Tere_. Here comes Lord _Lentulus_. + +_Tul_. Swift danger, now ride poaste through this passage. + + _Enter_[289] _Lentulus_. + +Health to your honour. + +_Len_. And happines to you. + +_Tul_. In[290] heaven, deere Lord, but-- + +_Lent_. Tush, tush, on earth; come, come, I know your suite, tis +graunted sure, what ere it be. + +_Tul_. My sute craves death, for treason to my friend. + +_Teren_. The Traitor lives while I have breath to spend, +Then let me die to satisfie your will. + +_Lent_. Neither, yfaith, kneele not, rise, rise, I pray; +You both confesse you have offended me? + +_Both_. We doe, we have. + +_Lent_. Then for this offence, be this your doome: +_Tulley_ must die, but not till fates decree +To cut your vital threed, or _Terentia_ +Finde in her heart to be your Deathes-man. + +_Flav_. Faith the Fates may doe as they may, but _Terentia_ will never +finde in her heart to kill him, sheele first burie him quick. + +_Len_. The like is doomde to faire _Terentia_. +How say you both, are yee content? + +_Teren_. My thoughts are plung'd in admiration. + +_Tul_. But can your honour burie such a wrong? + +_Len_. I can, I can; heere, _Tulley_, take _Terentia_, +Live many happie yeares in faithfull love. +This is no more then friendships lawes allow; +Thinke me thy self, another _Cicero_. + +_Flav_. Twere better, my Lord, you did perswade her to think you another +_Cicero_, so you might claim some interest in her now and then. + +_Lent_. That I would claim with you, faire Ladie; +Hark in your eare, nay, I must conclude with you. + +_Flau_. Y'oule not bite, my Lord? + +_Len_. No, of my faith, my Lady. + +_Tere_. Thus far, my love, our hopes have good successe; +One storme more past, my griefes were much the less. + +_Tul_. Friendship itself hath beene more prodigal +Then a bolde face could begge upon a friend. + +_Lent_. Why, then theres a bargaine. + +_Flav_. Strike hands upon the same, I am yours to commaund. +Ile love with ye, ile lie with ye, ile love with all my heart, +With all my strength, with all my power and virtue: +Seald and delivered in the presence of us-- + +_Lent_. _Marcus Tullius Cicero_. +Then you deliver this as your act and deede? + +_Flav_. I doe, and scale it with this-- + +_Lent_. Why, well said, tis done; see, we begin but now, +And are as ready to goe to Church as you. +What needes further ceremony? + +_Flav_. Yes, a little matrimony. + +_Lent_. I, Lady. Come _Tully_ and _Terentia_; +One day shall shine on both our Nuptials; +Feare not, ile quench the fire of your Fathers heate +With my consent. + +_Flav_. I prethee, appoint the time. + +_Lent_. About a week hence, love. + +_Flav_. Oh, tis too intolerable long. + +_Lent_. Then foure daies. + +_Flav_. Foure daies is foure times foure & twenty hours. +That's too long too. + +_Lent_. We cannot sooner be readie. + +_Flav_. Yes, and unreadie[291] too in a day and a halfe. + +_Lent_. Well then two daies. + +_Flav_. Til then weele feede on conceite; _Tully_, thanke me, but for +your companie I would not tarry so long; come, _Tully_, since we shall +bee married all at one time, weele goe to bed so, and he shall be +maister of the Cock-pit that bids his Gossips[292] first. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + + +[ACT THE FOURTH. + +_Scene_ 1.] + + + _Enter Accutus and Graccus_. + +_Acut_. Nay quicke, _Graccus_, least our houre forestall us, ile in and +deale for your disguise; tarry thou & give mine host a share of our +intent; marry, charge him to keep it as secret as his Garbage. He undoes +our drift [else] and cloathes the foole in sackcloath during his life. + +_Gra_. Ile warrant thee ile manage it with as good judgement as a +Constable his charge. + +_Acut_. And I mine as a watchman his office. + +_Gra_. Better, I hope; well about it. + + [_Exit [Acutus]_. + + _Enter_[293] _Host. Prentices pass over the stage_. + +_Host_. There, there my little lackey boyes, give the word as ye passe, +look about to my guests there; score up at the Bar there; again, agen, +my fine Mercuries; if youle live in the facultie, be rulde by +instructions, you must be eyed like a Serjeant, an eare like a +Belfounder, your conscience a Schoolemaister, a knee like a Courtier, +a foote[294] like a Lackey, and a tongue like a Lawyere. Away, away, my +brave bullies! welcome, sweete Signior, I cannot bow to thy knee, I'me +as stout & as stiff as a new made knight, but if I say the word, mine +Host bids the Cobler-- + +_Gra_. May I crave a word of you, mine Host? + +_Host_. Thou shalt whisper in mine eare, I will see and say little; what +I say duns[295] the mouse and welcom, my bullies. + + _Enter Scillicet and Getica_. + +_Scil_. By the torrid zone (sweet heart) I have thought well of you ever +since I loved ye, as a man wold say, like a young dancer, out of all +measure; if it please you yfaith anything I have promised you ile +performe it to a haire, ere to morrow night. + +_Get_. I wounder [_sic_] I can heare no newes of my man and my puppie. + +_Scil_. Doe you thinke, sweet heart, to be maried by day light or by +torch-light? + +_Get_. By night is more Lady-like. Ile have a cryer to cry my puppie +sure. + +_Scil_. What thinke ye if we had an offering? + +_Get_. That were most base yfaith. + +_Scil_. Base, slid, I cannot tel if it were as base as a sagbut, ile be +sworne tis as common as a whore, tis even as common to see a Bason at a +Church doore, as a Box at a Playhouse. + +_Get_. It greeves me not so much for my man as for my puppie; my man can +shift for himself, but my poore puppie! truely I thinke I must take +Phisicke even for feare, sweetheart. + +_Host_. Tut, tut, ile warrant thee ile be as close as a bawd, ile keepe +mine owne counsell, be merrie and close;[296] merrie hart lives long, +let my guests take no wrong, & welcome, my bullie. [_Exit_. + +_Grac_. There's none ment, beleeve it, sir. + +_Scil_. Signor, by the welkin, well met, what all three so luckely? + + _Enter Servulus_. + +_Ser_. Gallants, saving the Ceremonie, +Stroke your haire up and admire, forsweare sacke. + +_Scil_. Foresweare Sacke! slid, not for the spending of two farmes more, +if they were come into my hands once. + +_Ser_. I say be astonisht and forsweare sacke, for by the combustion +influence of sacke five men lye breathlesse ready to be folded in the +terrestiall element. + +_Grac_. Five slaine with Sacke! ist possible? + +_Ser_. These eyes are testators. + +_Scil_. Nay, then tis so. + +_Getica_. Sir, you have not heard of a puppie in your travels? + +_Grac_. No indeede, Gentlewoman. + +_Ser_. Five, beleeve me, Sir. + +_Acu_. Five of one, oh devil! +What limme of him but a complete Villaine! +A tongue prophaner then Idolatrie, +His eye a beacon fixed in his place +Discovering illes, but hood-winked unto grace; +His heart a nest of vice kept by the Devill, +His good is none at all, his all is evill. + + _Enter_[297] _Hostess_. + +_Hostis_. Oh, the father! Gallants, yonders the most hard favourd newes +walkes the streetes, seaven men going to their graves, that dyed with +drinking and bisseling.[298] + +_Acut_. Good, still, nay then I see the devill has some power over a +woman more then a man. Seaven! t'will be more anon. + +_Get_. Now I beseech _Bacchus_ my puppie has not overseene[299] himself. + +_Scil_. This is verie strange. + +_Hostis_. And as true a report, I assure you. + + _Enter City-Wife_[300] + +_Cittie wife_. Out alas, where's my Gosip? Oh woman! have you not heard +the newes? + +_Hostis_. Yes, I have heard on't. + +_Cittie wife_. Oh, woman, did your child's child ever see the like? nine +men to bee buried too day, that drunk healthes last night. + +_Acut_. Better and better, goodnes never mends so fast in the carrying: +nine! + +_Cittie wife_. They say one is your guest, _Philautus_. + +_Acut_. And all, I dare sweare, whome ile revive againe. + +_Cittie wife_. Well he was a propper man, yfaith. + +_Hostis_. I, and had good skill in prick-song, yet he had a fault in his +humor, as none are without (but Puritans,); he would swear like an +Elephant, and stamp and stare, (God blesse us,) like a play-house +book-keeper when the actors misse their entrance. + +_Scil_. Nay, harke ye, sir, I can brooke much injurie but not that; +meddle with me but not with my trade; shee is mine owne, shee's _meus, +tuus, suus_, no man's else, I assure ye, we are sure[301] together. + +_Grac_. Sure ye are together, sir, but is your wife your trade? You +meane to live upon your wife then. + +_Acut_. The foole has some wit,[302] though his money bee gone. + +_Grac_. Sir, I hope ye are not offended, I assure ye I would be loath to +offend the least haire of your _caput, sissiput_, or _occiput_. + +_Scil_. _Occiput_? what meane you by _occiput_? + +_Grac_. The former part of your head. + +_Scil_. The former part of your head! why I hope I have not an occiput, +in the former part of my head. Signior _Servulus_, what meanes he by it? + +_Serv_. The signification of the word only amounts to this, the former +part of your head. + +_Accut_. The foole is jealious, prethee feede it. + +_Scil_. S'lid, I cannot be so sussified; I pray you, Segnior, what +meanes he by _occiput_? + +_Grac_. No hurt, verily, onely the word signifies, and the reason is, +saith _Varro_, being a great deriver from originals, it is called +_occiput_ for that the former part of the head looks likest the Oxe. + +_Scil_. Likest the Oxe, by gad, if ere I come to talke with that +_Varro_, ile make him show a better reason for it. + +_Grac_. But, howsoever, it proceeded from me all in kindenes. + +_Scil_. Sir, I accept it so, for I tell ye I am of a mollifying nature. +I can strut and againe in kindnesse I can suffer a man to breake my +head, and put it up without anger. + +_Accut_. I claime that priviledge, sir, I thinke I offended you once +that way. + +_Scil_. I love ye then for it sir, yet I cannot remember that ever a +Tapster broke my head, yet I call to minde I have broke many Tapsters +heads. + +_Accut_. Not as a Tapster, for I but borrow this habyt. + +_Scil_. The fruit is knowne by the tree, by gad, I knewe by your +aporn[303] ye were a gentlemen, but speciallye by your flat[304] cap. + +_Serv_. I call to memorie, let us unite with kinde imbrace. + +_Cittie wife_. Now well fare your harts; by my truth, tis joy to a woman +to see men kinde; faith you courtiers are mad fellowes, you care not in +your humors to stab man or woman that standes in your way, but in the +end your kindenes appeares. + +_Hostis_. You can resolve us, sir; we heare of great revels to be at +Court shortly. + +_Grac_. The marriage of _Lentulus_ and the Orator: verie true. + +_Hostis_. Might not a company of Wives be beholding to thee for places, +that would be there without their husbands knowledge, if neede were? + +_Grac_. A moitie of friendship that, ile place ye where ye shall sit and +see all. + +_Cittie wife_. Sit? nay, if there were but good standinges, we care not. + +_Acu_. S'foot, _Graccus_, we tarrie too long, I feare; the houre wil +overtake us, tarrie thou and invite the Guests, and Ile goe see his +course mounted. + +_Grac_. About it. + + [_Exit_[305] _Acutus_. + +_Hostis_. Whether goes that gentleman? + +_Grac_. About a needeful trouble; this gentleman +Hath, at the charges of his charitie, +Preparde to inter a friend of his, +Though lately entertaind a friend of yours, +Acquaintance to you all, _Philautus_; and would desire +You would with him accompany his ghost +To funerall, which will be presently on his journey. + +_Cittie wife_. Of his charge? dyed he not able to purchase a Winding +sheete? + +_Grac_. Twere sinne to wrong the dead; you shall heare the inventorie of +his pocket. + + Imprimis, brush and a Combe o o v.d. + Item, a looking Glasse o o i.d.ob. + Item, A case of Tobacco Pipes o o iiij.d. + Item, Tobacco, halfe an ounz o o vj.d. + Item, in money and golde o o iij.d. + _Summa totalis_. xix d. halfe penny. + +_Hostis_. What was his suite worth? + +_Grac_. His sute was colde, because not his owne, and the owner caused +it to be restored as part of recompence, having lost the principall. + + _Re-enter_[306] _Acutus_. + +_Acut_. What, are they readie? the Corse is on his journey hetherwards. + +_Grac_. Tush, two womens tungs give as loud report as a campe royall of +double cannons. + + _Enter Host, Cornutus_. + +_Host_. Tut, tut, thou art welcom; _Cornutus_ is my neighbour, I love +him as my self. Tha'st a shrowe to thy wife, gave her tongue to [_sic_] +much string, but let mine Host give thee counsell, heele teach thee a +remedie. + +_Cornu_. No, no, my good Host; mum, mum, no words against my wife; +shee's mine owne, one flesh, & one blood. I shall feele her hurt, her +tongue is her owne, so are her hands; mum, mum, no words against your +wife. + +_Host_. Tut, tut, thou art a foole, keepe her close from the poticarie, +let her taste of no licoras, twill make her long winded; no plums, nor +no parseneps, no peares, nor no Popperins, sheele dreame in her sleep +then; let her live vpon Hasels, give her nuts for her dyet, while a +toothe's in her head, give her cheese for disgestion,[307] twil make her +short winded; if that will not serve, set fire to the pan and blow her +up with Gun-powder. + +_Cittie wife_. I, I, mine Host, you are well imployed to give a man +counsell against his wife; they are apt enough to ill I warrant ye. + +_Cornu_. Mum, mum, my sweet wife, I know the world wel enough; I have an +eare but I heare not, an eye but I see not, what's spoke against thee I +regard not; mum, mum, I knowe the world well enough. + +_Cittie wife_. I, and twere more seemely you were at your owne house +too; your wife cannot goe abroad, but you must follow; husbands must bee +fringed to their wives Petticoates. I pray you tarrie you, ile goe home. + +_Cor_. Not so, my sweet wife, I am gone, I am vanisht; mum, mum, no +anger shall stirre thee; no words, I know the world well inough. + +_Hostis_. Twere better, by thrice deuce-ace, in a weeke every woman +could awe her husband so well as she. + +_Gracc_. Ist possible? s'foot, well I thought it had bene but a fable al +this while that _Iole_ shold make great _Hercules_ spit on his thombes +and spin, but now I see if a man were as great as _Caesar, Julius_ or +_Augustus_, or both in one, a woman may take him downe. + +_Hostis_. Gossip, faith ile use a little of your counsel, but my husband +is so fat, I feare I shall never bring him to it. + +_Grac_. Now, gentles, you that can, prepare a few teares to shed, for +now enters a sad sceane of sorrowe. + + _Enter Fryer and Course_. + +_Fryer_. Man is flesh and flesh is fraile, +The strongest man at length must faile; +Man is flesh and flesh is grasse; +Consuming time, as in a glasse, +Now is up and now is downe +And is not purchast by a Crowne; +Now seede, and now we are sowen, +Now we wither, now are mowen; +_Frater noster_ heere doth lye, +_In paupertate_ he did die, +And now is gone his _viam longam_ +That leades unto his _requiem aeternam_; +But dying needie, poore and bare, +Wanting to discharge the Fryer, +Unto his grave hee's like to passe +Having neither Dirge nor Masse: +So set forward, let him goe, +_Et benedicamus Domino_. + +_Phy_. And then to _Apollo_ hollo, trees, hollo.--Tapster a few more +cloathes to my feete. + +_Omnes_. Oh heavens! + +_Acut_. Gentles, keep your places, feare nothing; in the name of God, +what art thou? + +_Phy_. My Hearse and winding-sheete! what meanes this? why, Gentles, I +am a living man. + +_Acut_. Spirit, thou ly'st; thou deludest us. + +_Citty wife_. Conjure him, Fryer. + +_Fryer_. _In nomine Domini_ I thee charge, +_Responde mihi_, heere at large, +_Cujum pecus_, whence thou art, +_Et quamobrem_ thou makest us start +_In spiritus_ of the gloomy night? +_Qui Venis huc_ us to affright, +_Per trinitatem_ I there charge thee, +_Quid tu vis hic_ to tell to me. + +_Phy_. Why, Gentles, I am a living man, _Philautus_.[308] What instance +shall I give ye? heare me I have sight, understanding, I know mine +hostes, I see that Gentlewoman, I can feele. + +_Scil_. Feele this Gentlewoman! s'lid if yee were ten Ghosts, ile not +indure it. + +_Acut_. Spirit, thou deludest us. + +_Phy_. Why what should I say? will ye heare my voice, heeres not but-- + +_Scil_. Nay, that's a lye, then tis a living spirit, ile have a bout +with him. + +_Accut_. Oh sir, meddle not with shadowes. Spirit, thou lyest; +I saw thee dead, [and] so did many moe.[309] +We know ye wandring dwellers in the dark +Have power to shape you like mortallitie +To beguile the simple & deceve their soules. +Thou art a Devill. + +_Phy_. Sweet Gent, beholde I am flesh and blood; heeres my flesh, feele +it. + +_Cittie wife_. By my troth, methinkes hee should be alive. I could finde +in my heart to feele his flesh. + +_Grac_. Trie with your Rapier, _Accutus_; if he bleede he lives. + +_Phy_. If I bleede I die; sweet Gentlemen, draw no blood. + +_Accu_. How shall wee knowe thou art flesh and blood then? + +_Grac_. Take heede, _Accutus_, heele blast thee. + +_Phy_. What instance shall I give ye? I am _Phylautus_,[310] he that +must needes confesse, he was drunk in your companies last day; sweet +Gentlemen, conceive me aright. + +_Accut_. Why true, true, that we know and[311] those swilling bowels. +Death did arrest thee, many saw thee deade, +Else needles were these rites of funeralls. +And since that time, till now, no breath was knowne +Flye from you; and twentie times the houre-glasse +Hath turned his upside downe; and twenty times, +The nimble current sand hath left his upper roome. +To ly beneath, since sparke of life appeard; +In all which time my care imploide it self +To give the[e] rights of buriall: now, if you live, +Who so glad as I? + +_Phy_. Sir, your love has showne it selfe aboundant, but the cold aire +is a meanes to devorce me from your companies: mine host, let me crave +passage to my chamber. + +_Host_. Out of my dores, knave; thou enterest not my dores, I have no +chalke in my house, my posts shall not be garded with a little sing +song, _Si nihil attuleris, ibis, Homere, foras_. + +_Accut. Ha! how now man? see'st now any errors? +Nay, this is nothing; he hath but showne +A patterne of himself, what thou shalt finde +In others; search through the Globe of earth, +If there mongst twentie two thou doost find +Honester then himself ile be buried straight. +Now thinke what shame tis to be vilde, +And how vilde to be drunk: look round! where? +Nay looke up, beholde yon Christall pallace. +There sits an ubiquitarie Judge +From whom _arcana nulla abscondita_, +That see's all and at pleasure punisheth; +Thou canst not scape scot free, how cans't thou? +Why, sencelesse man in that sinne will betray +His father, brother, nay, himselfe;[312] feares not +To commit the worst of evils, secure if +Thunder-boults should drop from heaven, dreading +Nor heaven, nor hell; indeede his best state +Is worse then least, prised at highest rate. + +_Ser_. This critique is hoarsh [_sic_], unsaverie, and reproofeful; +avoyd him. + +_Scil_. Hee speakes well, but I like not his dispraysing of drunkennes; +tis Phisicke to me and it makes me to sleep like a horse with my nose in +the manger. Come, sweet heart. + +_Hostis_. Signior, _Philautus_, I pray ye a word. [_Exit_. + +_Acut_. How now, whispering? s'foot if they should give our purpose +another crosse point, where are we then? note, note. + +_Hostis_. Heere take the key, convey yourself into the Chamber, but in +any case take heede my husband see you not. + +_Phy_. Feare not, Gentles, be thanks the guerden of your love till time +give better abilitie. [_Exit_. + +_Acut_. Ha! nay s'foot, I must claw out another device, we must not part +so, _Graccus_; prethee keepe the sceane, til I fetch more actors to fill +it fuller. + +_Gra_. But prethee, let me partake. + +_Acut_. Not till I returne, pardon me. [_Exit_. + +_Hostis_. By my troth Gossip, I am halfe sick of a conceit. + +_Citty wife_. What, woman? passion of my heart, tell me your greefs. + +_Hostis_. I shall goe to court now, and attired like an old Darie woman, +a Ruffe holland of eight groates, three inches deep of the olde cut, and +a hat as far out of fashion as a close placket. + +_Cittie wife_. Why I hope your husband is able to maintain you better, +are there not nights as well as daies? does he not sleepe sometimes? has +he no pockets about him, cannot you search his breeches? anything you +find in his breeches is your owne. + +_Hostis_. But may a woman doe that with safety? + +_Cittie wife_. I, and more, why should she not? why what is his is +yours, what's yours your owne. + +_Hostis_. The best hope I have is; you knowe my Guest Mistris _Gettica_, +she has pawnd her Jewels to me already, and this night I look for her +Hood and her tyer, or if the worst chance, I know I can intreate her to +weare my cloathes, and let me goe in her attire to Court. + +_Cittie wife_. Or if all faile, you may hire a good suit at a Jewes, or +at a broakers; tis a common thing and speacially among the common sort. + + _Enter Host and Constable_. + +_Host_. To search through my house! I have no Varlets, no knaves, no +stewd prunes, no she fierie phagies [faces?]; my Chambers are swept, my +sinkes are all scowred, the honest shall come in, the knaves shall goe +by; yet will I, maister Constable, goe search through my house, I care +not a sheepes skin. + +_Const_. We are compeld to doe it, mine host; a Gentleman is robd last +night, & we are to search every privy corner. + +_Host_. Mine host is true Mettall, a man of reputation, a true +_Holefernes_, he loves juice of grapes, and welcom, maister Constable. + [_Exit_. + +_Acut_. _Graccus_, how likst thou this? + +_Grac_. Excellent, for now must he needes fall into Constables hands, +and if he have any grace, twil appear in his face, when he shall be +carried through the streete in a white sheet; twill be a good penance +for his fault. + +_Hostis_. Now fortune favour that my husband find him not. + +_Cittie wife_. Heele be horne mad & never able to indure it: why, woman, +if he had but as much man in him as a Maribone, heele take the burthen +uppon his own necke and never discover you. + +_Hostis_. Alas, heere they come, lets away, Gossip. + [_Exeunt_. + +_Phy_. _Fortune_,[313] _my foe, why doost, &c_. + +_Acut_. Oh fye, thats bitter prethe goe comfort him. + +_Grac_. Faith he should be innocent by his garment; Signior, I grieve +for this, but if I can help, looke for it. + +_Phy_. I thanke ye, sir. + +_Const_. We must contaminate our office, pray regard us as little as ye +can. [_Exit_. + +_Accut_. Me thinkes this shold put him quite out of tune now, so let him +goe now to mine Host; theres he and hee, and hee, + + Theres shee, and she, ile have a bout with all: + And critiques honneys sweetest mixt with gal. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +[_Scene_ 2.] + + + _Enter Host, Cornutus_. + +_Host_. Goe to, there's knaves in my house! I know of no Varlets, I +have an eye has his sence, a brain that can reach, I have bene cald +Polititian, my wife is my wife. I am her top, i'me her head: if mine +Host say the word, the Mouse[314] shall be dun. + +_Corn_. Not so my sweet Host, mum, mum, no words against your wife; he +that meanes to live quiet, to sleep in cleane sheetes, a Pillowe under +his head, his dyet drest cleanely, mum, mum, no words against his wife. + +_Host_. Thar't a foole, thar't a foole, bee rulde by mine host, shew thy +self a brave man, of the true seede of _Troy_, a gallant _Agamemnon_; +tha'st a shrew to thy wife, if shee crosse thy brave humors, kicke thy +heele at her huckle[315] bone. + + _Enter Accutus_. + +_Acut_. Gentles, most happily encountered, how good hap hath turnd two +labours into one! I was addrest to both, and at once I have met both, +sure I must intreate that you must not deny. + +_Host_. Say on, my sweete bullie, mine Host will attend thee; speake +roundly to the purpose, and welcome, my bullie. + +_Accut_. Marrie thus, there are[316] great revels & shews preparde to +beautifie the nuptials of _Lentulus_, and _Tully_, in which the +Cittizens have the least share; now, would but you and some others that +I shall collect, + + Joyne hands with me in some queint jest, + Our shew shall deserve grace, and brave the rest. + +_Host_, I have thee, brave spirit, tha'rt of the true seede of _Troy_, +lets be merrie and wise, merrie hearts live long; mine Host, my brave +Host, with his neighbor _Cornutus_ shall bee two of the Maskers, and the +Morrice shall be daunc'd. + +_Cor_. Not so, mine Host. I dare not doe so, t'will distemper my wife, +my house will be unquiet; mum, mum, I know the world, well enough. + +_Host_. Thou shall goe, saies mine Host, merrie hearts live long; +welcome, bullie! mine Host shall make one, so shall my _Cornutus_, for +if I say the word the mouse shall be dun. + + _Enter Bos with Porters_. + +_Porters_. Save ye mine Host, heeres a parcell of Corne was directed to +be delivered at your house. + +_Host_. What ware, my little Atlas, what ware is it? + +2 _Por_. I know not, but i'me sure tis as heavie as a horse and-- + +1 _Por_. I thinke, tis a barrel of oyle, for it spurg'd at my backe. + +_Bos_. It was oyle, for I drew the Tap. + +_Grac_. What, _Bos_, what mak'st thou heere? + +_Acc_. Oh, _chara_[317] _deum soboles, magnum bovis incrementum_. +_Bos_, art there, there? + +_Bos_. As sure as you are there, Signior. + +_Grac_. _Bos_, will ye not forsake your Cabbin? + +_Bos_. Oh sir, he that has not a tilde house must bee glad of a thatch +house. May I crave a suite of you, signior? + +_Grac_. What suit, _Bos_? + +_Bos_. What you please, beggars must not chuse. + +_Accut_. _Bos_ is growne misticall, hee's too dark. + +_Bos_. I speake _Hebrew_ indeede, like _Adam_ and _Eve_, before they fel +to spinning; not a rag. + +_Grac_. What, naked, _Bos_? + +_Bos_. As ye see, will ye heare my suite, signior? + +_Gra_. Drunk, & his cloathes stoln, what theef would do it? + +_Bos_. Any theefe, sir, but no true[318] man. + +_Gra_. Wel, _Bos_, to obtaine a suit at my handes, and to doe some +pennance for your fault, you shall heere maintaine an argument in the +defence of drunkennes. Mine Host shall heere it, ile be your opponent, +_Acutus_ moderator: wilt thou doe it? + +_Host_. A mad merrie grig;[319] all good spirits; wilt thou doe it, +_Bos_? + +_Bos_. Ile doo't. + +_Grac_. Seate yee, heres my place; now, _Bos_, propound. + +_Bos_. Drunkenness is a vertue. + +_Gra_. Your proofe. + +_Bos_. Good drink is full of vertue, +Now full of good drink is drunke; +_Ergo_, to be drunke is to be vertuous. + +_Grac_. I deny it: good drinke is full of vice, +Drinke takes away the sences, +Man that is sencelesse is vitious; +_Ergo_, good drinke is full of vice. + +_Bos_. I deny it still: good drinke makes good bloud, +Good blood needes no Barber, +_Ergo_, tis good to drinke good drinke. + +_Accu_. Hee holdes ye hard, _Graccus_. + +_Bos_. Heeres stronger proofe: drunkennes ingenders with two of the +morrall vertues, and sixe of the lyberall sciences. + +_Gra_. Let him proove that and Ile yeeld. + +_Host_. A mad spirit, yfaith. + +_Bos_. A drunkard is valiant and lyberall; heele outface _Mars_, brave +_Hercules_, and feares not the Devill; then for the most part hee's +liberal, for heele give all the cloathes off his back, though hee weepe +like a Widowe all the day following; nay for the sciences, hee's a good +phisitian, hee vomits himself rarelie and will giue any man else a +vomit, that lookes on him (if he have not a verie good stomacke); +perfect in Geomitrie, for he hangs in the aire by his own conceite, and +feeles no ground; and hee's all musicall, the world turns round with +him, everie face in the painted cloath, shewes like a Fairie dauncing +about him, and everie spar in the house a minstrell. + +_Grac_. Good: forward. + +_Bos_. Then hee's a good Lawyer, for hees never without a _fierie +facies_, & the least _Capias_ will take his _habeas Corpus_: +besides, another point of a Lawyere, heele raile and rave against his +dearest friends and make the world think they are enemies, when the next +day theile laugh, bee fat and drunk together: and a rare Astronomer, for +he has starres twinckling in his eyes in the darkest night when a wise +man discernes none in the firmament, and will take great paines in the +practise, for lay him on his backe in the open fields over night, and +you shal be sure to finde him there in the morning. Have I sed well or +shall I give you a stronger proofe? An honest man will be as good as his +word: Signior _Graccus_ is an honest man, _Ergo_, I must have a new +suite. + +_Accu_. The moderator concludes so, _Graccus_ is overthrown so far as +the damage of the suite, so away with him; come, our fire will out strip +us; mine Host and you wee expect your companies; we must crave absence +awhile better to furnishe our purposes: the time of day to ye. + +_Host_. Farwel, my good bullies, mine Host has sed and the mouse is dun. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + + +[ACT THE FIFTH. + +_Scene_ 1.] + + + _Enter the dumb shew of the marriage, Lentulus, Tully, and the rest. + + Enter Hostis in Getticaes apparel, Getic. in hers, & Mistris Dama_. + +_Hostis_. Come, Gossip, by my troth, I cannot keepe my hood in frame. + +_Cittie wife_. Let me helpe ye, woman. + +_Get_. Sir, we shall be troublesome to ye. + +_Gra_. Oh urge not that I pray ye. + +_Get_. I pray ye what shewe will be heere to night? I have seen the +_Babones_ already, the _Cittie of new Ninivie_[320] and _Julius Caesar_, +acted by the Mammets. + +_Grac_. Oh, gentlewoman, those are showes for those places they are used +in; marry, heere you must expect some rare device, as _Diana_ bathing +herself, being discovered or occulated by _Acteon_, he was tranfigured +to a hart, & werried to death with his own dogs. + +_Cit. W_. Thats prettie in good truth; & must _Diana_, be naked? + +_Gra_. Oh of necessitie, if it be that show. + +_Hostis_. And _Acteon_, too? that's prettie ifaith. + + _Enter Caesar, Lent: Tully, Teren: Flavia_. + +_Caes_. Now, gallant Bridegroomes, and your lovely Brides, +That have ingeminate in endlesse league +Your troth-plight hearts, in your nuptial vowes +Tyed true love knots that nothing can disolve +Till death, that meager pursevant of _Jove_ +That Cancels all bonds: we are to [_sic_] clowdie, +My spirit a typtoe, nothing I could chid so much +As winged time, that gins to free a passage +To his current glasse and crops our day-light, +That mistie night will summon us to rest, +Before we feele the burthen of our eylids. +The time is tedious, wants varietie; +But that I may shew what delightful raptures +Combats my soule to see this union, +And with what boundles joy I doe imbrace it, +We heere commaund all prison gates flye ope, +Freeing all prisoners (traitors all except,) +That poore mens prayers may increase our daies, +And writers circle ye with wreathes of bayes. + +_Grac_. S'foot, _Accutus_, lets lay hold of this to free our captive. + +_Acu_. Content; ile prosecute it. + +_Tul_. Dread soveraigne, heaven witnesse with me +With what bended spirit I have attainde +This height of happinesse; and how unwillingly, +Till heavens decree, _Terentias_ love, and your +Faire consents did meet in one to make +Me Lord thereof: nor shall it add one scruple +Of high thought to my lowly minde. +_Tully_ is _Tully_, parentage poore, the best +An Orator, but equall with the least. + +_Lent_. Oh no doubt, _Accutus_, be the attempt +My perill, his royall promise is past +In that behalfe. My soveraigne, this Gentlemans +Request takes hold upon your gratious promise +For the releasement of a prisoner. + +_Cos_. My promise is irrevocable, take it; +But what is hee and the qualitie of his fault? + +_Acut_. A gentleman, may it please your grace; his fault +Suspition, and most likly innocent. + +_Caes_. He hath freedome, and I prethee let him be brought hither. + + [_Exit[321] Acut_. + +Perhaps in his presence we shall win some smiles, +For I have noted oft in a simple braine, +(Only striving to excell it self) +Hath corrupted language, that hath turnd +To pleasant laughter in juditious eares; +Such may this proove, for now me thinkes +Each minute, wanting sport, doth seeme as long +And teadious, as a feaver: but who doth knowe +The true condition of this _Accutus_? + +_Tully_. My Leige, of him something my knowledge +Can discover; his spirit is free as aire, +His temper temperate, if ought's uneeven +His spleene waies downe [towards] lenitie: but how +Stird by reproofe? ah,[322] then hee's bitter and like +His name _Acute_, vice to him is a foule eye-sore +And could he stifle it in bitterest words he would, +And who so offends to him is paralell; +He will as soon reproove the Caedar state +As the lowe shrub. + + _Enter Acut. and Philaut_. + +_Phy_. Nay, good _Accutus_, let me not enter the presence. + +_Accut_. Oh sir, I assure you your presence will be most acceptable in +the presence at this time then a farre ritcher present. May it please +your majestie, this is the man. + +_Caes_. Let him stand forward. + +_Cit. W_. Alas, we shal see nothing; would I were neere; now hee stands +forwards. + +_Caes_.[323] What qualities hath he, _Accutus_? + +_Accut_. A few good ones (may it please you); he handles a comb wel, a +brush better, and will drink downe a _Dutchman_, & has good skill in +pricksong. + +_Hostis_. I, ile be sworne he had, when he was my Guest. + +_Acut_. Please it your Maiestie to commaund him? + +_Caes_. Oh, we can no otherwise, so well be pleased. + +_Phy_. I beseech your Maiestie, I cannot sing. + +_Tul_. Nay, your denyall will breed but greater expectation. + +_Acut_. I, I, please it your grace to heare? now he begins. + +_Phy_. _My love can sing no other song, but still complaines I did her, +&c_. I beseech your Maiestie to let me goe. + +_Caes_. With all our heart; _Acutus_, give him libertie. + +_Accut_. Goe and for voice sake yee shall sing Ballads in the suburbes, +and if ever heereafter ye chance to purchase a suite, by what your +friends shal leave ye, or the credit of your friend, be not drunk again, +& give him hard words for his labour. [_Exit_. + +_Caes_. What, ist effected, _Graccus_? + +_Gra_. I have wrought the foole; _Scilicet_ comes alone, & his Lady +keepes the women company. + +_Accu_. Tush, weele have a room scantly furnisht with lights that shall +further it. + +_Caes_. What sound is that? + +_Acut_. I, would ye so fain enter? ile further it: please it your +Maiestie to accept what is not worth acceptance? heere are a company to +Gratulate these nuptials, have prepard a show--I feare not worth the +sight--if you shall deeme to give them the beholding of it. + +_Caes_. Else should we wrong their kindnes much. _Accutus_, be it your +care to give them kindest welcome; we cannot recompence their loves +without much beholdings. + +_Acut_. Now for the cunning vizarding of them & tis done. + +_Hostis_. Now we shall beholde the showes. + +_Get_. _Acteon_ and his Dogs, I pray Jupiter. + + _Enter the maske and the Song_. + + _Chaunt birds in everie bush, + The blackbird and the Thrush, + The chirping Nightingale, + The Mavis and Wagtaile, + The Linnet and the Larke, + Oh how they begin, harke, harke_. + +_Scil_. S'lid, there's one bird, I doe not like her voice. + + _Sing againe & Exeunt_. + +_Hostis_. By my troth, me thought one should be my husband, I could even +discerne his voice through the vizard. + +_Cittie wife_. And truely by his head one should be mine. + +_Get_. And surely by his eares one should be my sweet heart. + +_Caes_. _Accutus_,[324] you have deserved much of our love, but might +we not breake the law of sport so farre as to know to whome our thankes +is due, by seeing them unmaskt and the reason of their habits? + +_Acut_. Most willingly, my Soveraigne, ile cause their returne. + +_Hostis_. Oh excellent! now we shal see them unmaskt. [_Exit_. + +_Get_. In troth, I had good hope the formost had bene _Acteon_, when I +saw his hornes. + +_Cit. wif_. Sure the middlemost was my husband, see if he have not a +wen in his forehead. + + _Enter Maskers_. + +_Host_. God blesse thee, noble _Caesar_, & all these brave bridegroomes, +with their fine little dydoppers, that looke before they sleep to throw +away their maiden heads: I am host of the Hobbie, _Cornut_. is my +neighbour, but wele pull of his bopeeper; thou't know me by my nose, I +am a mad merie grig, come to make thy grace laugh; sir _Scillicet_ my +guest; all true canaries, that love juce of grapes, god blesse thy +Maiestie. + +_Acut_. How now, mine Host? + +_Host_. Ha, ha, I spie a jest. Ha, ha, _Cornutus, Cornutus_. + +_Acut_. Nay, mine host, heeres a moate in your eye to [_sic_]. + +_Scil_. S'lid, I hope they have not serv'd me so; by the torrid y'are an +asse, a flat Asse, but the best is I know who did it; twas either you or +some body else; by gad, I remember it as wel as if it were done now. + +_Host_. T[h]ou shalt answer it to my leige, ile not be so misused, ye +have a wrong element, theres fire in my face, weele mount and ascend. +I'me misused, the mad comrades have plaide the knaves. Justice, my brave +_Caesar_. + +_Accut_. Ile answer it, mine Host. Pardon, greate _Caesar_: +The intent was merriment, the reason this: +A true brow bends to see good things a misse, +Men turned to beasts, and such are you mine Host; +Ile show you else, you are a Goate, look here! +Now come you, this is your's, you know it, doe you not? +How old are you? are you not a Goate now? +Shall I teach you how to use a wife and keepe her +In the rank of goodnes? linke her to thy soule, +Devide not _individium_, be her and she thee, +Keepe her from the Serpent, let her not Gad +To everie Gossips congregation; +For there is blushing modestie laide out +And a free rayne to sensual turpitude +Given out at length and lybidinous acts, +Free chat, each giving counsell and sensure +_Capream maritum facere_, such art thou Goate. +Be not so secure. And you, my grand _Cornutus_, +Thou Ram, thou seest thy shame, a pent-house +To thy eye-browes, doost not glorie in it, doost? +Thou'lt lye in a Trucklebed, at thy wives bed feete, +And let her goe a Gossiping while thou sweepest the kitchin. +Look, she shall witnesse[325] against thee. + +_Corn_. My wife there? I must be gone then. + +_Acut_. Oh fye, betray not thy self so grossely. + +_Cor_. I pray ye pardon me. + +_Accut_. I dare not. + +_Cor_. I sir, but afterward may come after claps. I know the world well +enough. + +_Accut_. Mischiefe of the Devill, be man, not all beast, do not +lye,----both sheetes doe not. + +_Cit. w_. I warrant this fellow has as many eies as a Lamprey, hee could +never see so farre into the world else. + +_Accu_. And thou pure asse, meere asse, thy eares become thee well, +yfaith. + +_Scil_. I think you merit to make a Musition of me, you furnish me with +a good eare. + +_Accut_. Thou deservdst it, thou't make thy self a Cucckold, be it but +for company sake; thou hast long eares, and thinkest them hornes, thy +onceites cuckolds thee, thou art jealious if thou seest thy wives ---- +with another mans palme. And foole, thy state in that sense is the best; +thou art claspt with simplicitie, (a great badge of honestie,) for the +poore foole has pawnd her cloathes to redeeme thy unthriftines; be +jealious no more unlesse thou weare thine eares still, for all shall be +well, and you shall have your puppie againe. + +_Get_. Shall I? by my troth, I shall be beholding to you then. + +_Acu_. Now to ye all, be firmaments to stars, +Be stars to Firmaments, and, as you are +Splendent, so be fixed, not wandering, nor +Irregular, both keeping course together. +Shine not in pride and gorgeous attire, +When clouds doe faile the pole where thou art fixt. +Obey, cherish, honor, be kinde enough, +But let them weare no changeable stuffe; +Keepe them, as shall become your state, +Comely, and to creepe ere they goe. +Let them partake your joyes and weep with you, +Curle not the snarles that dwell upon these browes. +In all things be you kinde: of all enough, +But let them weare no changeable stuffe. + +_Host_. Fore God a mad spirit. + +_Hostis_. Will ye beeleeve what such a bisket brain'd fellow as this +saies? he has a mouth like a double cannon, the report will be heard all +ore the towne. + +_Cittie wife_. I warrant he ranne mad for love, because no good face +could indure the sight of him, and ever since he railes against women +like a whot-shot. + +_Len_. Nay, nay, we must have all friendes, +Jarring discords are no marriage musick; +Throw not Hymen in a cuckstoole; dimple +Your furrowed browes; since all but mirth was ment, +Let us not then conclude in discontent, +Say, shall we all +In friendly straine measure our paces to bed-ward? + +_Tul_. Will _Terentia_ follow? + +_Teren_. If _Tully_ be her Leader. + +_Host_. Good bloods, good spirits, let me answer for all, none speake +but mine Host; hee has his pols, and his aedypols, his times and his +tricks, his quirkes, and his quilits, and his demise and dementions. God +blesse thee, noble _Caesar_, and all these brave spirits! I am Host of +the Hobby, _Cornutus_ is my neighbour, _Graccus_, a mad spirit, +_Accutus_ is my friend, Sir _Scillicet_ is my guest; al mad comrades of +the true seede of _Troy_, that love juce of Grapes; we are all true +friends, merrie harts live long, let Pipers strike up, ile daunce my +cinquepace, cut aloft my brave capers, whirle about my toe, doe my +tricks above ground, ile kisse my sweet hostesse, make a curtesie to thy +grace; God blesse thy Maiestie and the Mouse shall be dun. + +_Cor_. Come wife, will you dance? + +_Wife_. Ile not daunce, I, must you come to Court to have hornes set on +your head? I could have done that at home. + +_Host_. I, I, be rulde at this time; what? for one merrie day wele find +a whole moone at midsommer. + + _Daunce_. + +_Caes_. Gentles, wee thanke yee all, the night hath spent +His youth, and drowsie _Morpheus_ bids us battell. +We will defie him still, weele keep him out +While we have power to doe it. Sound +Your loudest noise: set forward to our chamber. + +_Gra_. Advance your light. + +_Caes_. Good rest to all. + +_Omn_. God give your grace God-night. + + [_Exeunt_. + + +FINIS. + + + + +APPENDIX. + + +VOL. II. _Tragedy of Sir John Van Olden Barnavelt_. In _The Athenaeum_ +of January 19, 1884, my friend, Mr. S.L. Lee, pointed out that the first +performance of this remarkable play took place in August, 1619. I had +thrown out the suggestion that the play was produced at Michaelmas, +1619. "I have been fortunate enough," says Mr. Lee, "to meet with +passages in the State Papers that give us positive information on this +point. In two letters from Thomas Locke to Carleton, the English +ambassador at the Hague, I have found accounts of the circumstances +under which the tragedy was first performed in London. The earlier +passage runs as follows:--'The Players heere', writes Locke in London on +August 14th, 1619, 'were bringing of Barnevelt vpon the stage, and had +bestowed a great deale of mony to prepare all things for the purpose, +but at th'instant were prohibited by my Lo: of London' (Domestic State +Papers, James I., vol. cx. No. 18). The play was thus ready on August +14th, 1619, and its performance was hindered by John King, Bishop of +London. The excitement that the Arminian controversy had excited in +England would sufficiently account for the prohibition. But the bishop +did not persist in his obstruction. On August 27th following Locke tells +a different story. His words are: 'Our players haue fownd the meanes to +goe through with the play of Barnevelt, and it hath had many spectators +and receaued applause: yet some say that (according to the proverbe) the +diuill is not so bad as he is painted, and that Barnavelt should +perswade Ledenberg to make away himself (when he came to see him after +he was prisoner) to prevent the discovrie of the plott, and to tell him +that when they were both dead (as though he meant to do the like) they +might sift it out of their ashes, was thought to be a point strayned. +When Barnevelt vnderstood of Ledenberg's death he comforted himself, +which before he refused to do, but when he perceaueth himself to be +arested, then he hath no remedie, but with all speede biddeth his wife +send to the Fr: Ambr: which she did and he spake for him, &c.' (Domestic +State Papers, James I., vol. cx. No. 37). Locke is here refering to +episodes occurring in the play from the third act onwards. In Act III. +sc. iv. Leidenberch is visited in prison by Barnavelt, who bids him 'dye +willingly, dye sodainely and bravely,' and adds, 'So will I: then let +'em sift our Actions from our ashes,'--words that Locke roughly quotes +(see p. 262 of Mr. Bullen's 'Old Plays,' vol. ii.). The first +performance of the tragedy we may thus assign to a day immediately +preceding the 27th of August, 1619. When we remember that Barnavelt was +executed on May 13th of the same year, we have in this play another +striking instance of the literal interpretation given by dramatists of +the day to Hamlet's definition of the purpose of playing." + +I have tried hard to decipher the passages that are scored through +(probably by the censor's pen) in the MS., but hitherto I have not had +much success. + +Vol. III.--_The Wisdome of Doctor Dodypoll_. + +The stealing of an enchanter's cup at a fairy feast by a peasant is a +favourite subject of fairy mythology. See Ritson's _Fairy Tales_. + +_The Distracted Emperor_. + +William Tyndale in his _Practyse of Prelates_, 1530, relates the wild +legend of Charlemagne's dotage:--"And beyond all that, the saying is +that in his old age a whore had so bewitched him with a ring and a pearl +in it and I wot not what imagery graven therein, that he went a salt +after her as a dog after a bitch and the dotehead was beside himself and +whole out of his mind: insomuch that when the whore was dead he could +not depart from the dead corpse but caused it to be embalmed and to be +carried with him whithersoever he went, so that all the world wondered +at him; till at the last his lords accombered with carrying her from +place to place and ashamed that so old a man, so great an emperor, and +such a most Christian king, on whom and on whose deeds every man's eyes +were set, should dote on a dead whore, took counsel what should be the +cause: and it was concluded that it must needs be by enchantment. Then +they went unto the coffin, and opened it, and sought and found this ring +on her finger; which one of the lords took off, and put it on his own +finger. When the ring was off, he commanded to bury her, regarding her +no longer. Nevertheless he cast a fantasy unto this lord, and began to +dote as fast on him, so that he might never be out of sight; but where +our Charles was, there must that lord also be; and what Charles did, +that must he be privy unto: until that this lord, perceiving that it +came because of this enchanted ring, for very pain and tediousness took +and cast it into a well at Acon [Aix la Chapelle], in Dutchland. And +after that the ring was in the well, the emperor could never depart from +the town; but in the said place where the ring was cast, though it were +a foul morass, yet he built a goodly monastery in the worship of our +lady, and thither brought relics from whence he could get them, and +pardons to sanctify the place, and to make it more haunted. And there he +lieth, and is a saint, as right is: for he did for Christ's Vicar as +much as the great Turk for Mahomet; but to save his holiness, that he +might be canonised for a saint, they feign that his abiding there so +continually was for the hot-baths' sake which be there." (_Works_, ed. +Parker Society, ii. 265.) + +Burton in the _Anatomy of Melancholy_, Part iii., Sect. 2, Memb. 3, +Subs. 5, briefly narrates the story. + +In the first scene of the _Distracted Emperor_, l. 17, for the reading +of the MS. "Can propp thy mynde, fortune's shame upon thee!" we should +undoubtedly substitute "Can propp thy ruynde fortunes? shame upon thee!" + +Dr. Reinhold Köhler of Weimar explains once for all the enigmatical +letters at the end of the play:--"The line denotes: + + Nella fidelta finiro _la vita_. + +For as the letters [Greeek: ph d ph n r] must be read by their Greek +names, so must also the B--better written [Greek: B]--be read by its +Greek name [Greek: Baeta], or by Neo-Greek pronunciation _vita_. With +this meaning the line is given in the work of Etienne Tabourot 'Les +Bizarrures du Seigneur des Accords,' which is said to have appeared +first in 1572 or 1582, in Chap. ii. on 'rébus par lettres.' I only know +the passage by a quotation in an interesting work by Johannes Ochmann +'Zur Kentniss der Rebus,' Oppeln, 1861, p. 18. I have also found our +rebus in a German novel entitled 'The Wonderful Life of the Merry +Hazard,' Cosmopoli, 1706. In this book, p. 282, it is related that a +priest wrote as a souvenir in Hazard's album:-- + + 'Nella [Greek: phd]. [Greek: phnr] la [Greek: B]. + As an assurance of his heart + That knows no joking + It said' ... ... + +And further (p. 283):--'Hazard knew not what to make of these mere Greek +letters and spent several days in fruitless thoughts, until the priest +let him understand that he was only to pronounce them, then he would +hear from the sounds that it was Italian and meant: Nella fideltá finiró +la vita.' This is the solution of the various hypotheses that have been +set up about the meaning of 'la B.'" + +Vol. IV.--_Everie Woman in her Humor_. + +P. 312 "_Phy_. Boy!--_Sleepe wayward thoughts_." The words "sleepe +wayward thoughts" are from a song in Dowland's _First Book of Songs or +Airs of four parts_, 1597. In Oliphant's _Musa Madrigalesca_ the song is +given thus:-- + + "Sleep, wayward thoughts, and rest you with my love; + Let not my love be with my love displeased; + Touch not, proud hands, lest you her anger move, + But pine you with my longings long diseased. + Thus, while she sleeps, I sorrow for her sake; + So sleeps my love--and yet my love doth wake. + + But, oh! the fury of my restless fear, + The hidden anguish of my chaste desires; + The glories and the beauties that appear + Between her brows, near Cupid's closed fires! + Sleep, dainty love, while I sigh for thy sake; + So sleeps my love,--and yet my love doth wake." + +P.335. "_For I did but kisse her_."--Mr. Ebsworth kindly informs me that +these words are from a song (No. 19) in _The First Booke of Songs and +Ayres_ (1601?) composed by Robert Jones. The song runs:-- + + "My Mistris sings no other song + But stil complains I did her wrong. + Beleeue her not, it was not so, + I did but kiss her and let her go. + + And now she sweares I did, but what, + Nay, nay, I must not tell you that: + And yet I will, it is so sweete, + As teehee tahha when louers meet. + + But womens words they are heedlesse, + To tell you more it is needlesse: + I ranne and caught her by the arme + And then I kist her, this was no harme. + + But she alas is angrie still, + Which sheweth but a womans will: + She bites the lippe and cries fie, fie, + And kissing sweetly away she doth flie. + + Yet sure her lookes bewraies content + And cunningly her bra[w]les are meant: + As louers use to play and sport, + When time and leisure is too short." + +On p. 373 Philautus gives another quotation from the same song. + +P. 340. "_The fryer was in the_--." Mr. Ebsworth writes:--"This song is +extant among the Pepysian Ballads (the missing word is equivalent to +'Jakes'): original of 'The Friar in the Well.'" + + + + +INDEX. + + +Academic playwrights +Accomodate +Addition +Adorning +Adson's new ayres +Agamemnon in the play +Agrippina +Alablaster ( = alabaster) +_Alchemist_, allusion to the play of the +A life ( = as my life) +Almarado (?) +Ambergreece +Andirons ("The andirons were the ornamental irons on each side of the + hearth in old houses, which were accompanied with small rests for + the ends of the logs."--_Halliwell_.) +Anotomye (For the spelling compare Dekker's Satiromastix-- + "because + Mine enemies with sharpe and searching eyes + Looke through and through me, carving my poore labours + Like an _Anatomy_."--_Dramatic Works_, ed. Pearson, i. 197.) +Anything for a quiett lyfe +Aphorisme +Aporn +Apple-squier +Arch-pillers +Argentum potabile +Artillery Garden +Artire +Ascapart +Assoyle + +Bables +Babyes +Back side +Bacon, Roger +Baffeld ( = treated ignominiously) +Bainardes Castle +Bale of dice +Bandogs +Banks' horse +Bantam +Barleybreak +Basolas manos +Basses +Bastard +Bavyn +Bayting +Beare a braine +Beetle +Bermudas +Berwick, pacification of +Besognio +Best hand, buy at the +Bezoar +Bilbo mettle +Biron, Maréchal de +Bisseling +Blacke and blewe +Blacke gard +Black Jacks +Bob'd +Bombards +_Bonos nocthus_ +Booke ("Williams craves his booke") +Borachos +Bossed +Bottom, +Brass, coinage of +Braule +Braunched +Braves +Bree +Broad cloth, exportation of +Brond +Browne, Sir Thomas, quoted +Browne-bastard +Build a sconce.--See Sconce +Bull (the executioner) +Bullets wrapt in fire +Bullyes +Bumbarrels +Bu'oy +Burnt +Buskes +Busse, the (Hertogenbosch taken in 1629, after a memorable siege, by + Frederick Henry, Prince of Orange) + +Cage (prison) +Cales +_Calisto_, MS. play composed of scenes from Heywood's _Golden Age and + Silver Age_ +Canaries +Cap-case +Carack +Carbonado +Cardeq +Cardicue +Caroach +Carrackes +Carry coals +Case +Cast-of Merlins +Castrell +Catamountaine +Cater-trey +Caull +Cautelous +Censure +Champion +Chapman, George +Choake-peare +Chrisome +Cinque pace +Citie of new Ninivie +Clapdish +Closse contryvances +Coate +Cockerell +Coll +Comparisons are odorous +Consort +Convertite +Cooling carde +Coranta +Cornutus +Covent +Crak't +Crase +Cricket +Cupboard of plate ( = movable side-board) +Cut-beaten-sattyn (Cf. Marlowe's _Faustus_--"_beaten_ silk.") +Cutt-boy + +Daborne, Robert +Dametas +Day, John +Dead paies +Debosht ( = debauched) +Deneere +Depart +Detest +Devide +Dewse ace +Diamonds softened by goat's blood +Dicker +Diet-bread +Diety (For the spelling cf. Rowley's _All's Lost by Lust_, 1633, + sig. C. 4: + "Can lust be cal'd love? then let man seeke hell, + For there that fiery _diety_ doth dwell." + Again in the same play, sig. D. 2, we have-- + "Descend thy spheare, thou burning _Diety_." + John Stephens in his _Character of a Page_ [_Essayes and Characters_, + 1615] speaks of "Cupid's _diety_.") +Dion Cassius, quoted +Diophoratick +Disgestion +Disguest +Division +Doggshead +Door ("Keep the door" = act as a pander) +Doorkeeper +Dorsers +Dowland, John +Draw drie foote +Ducke +Duns the mouse +Dydoppers (dabchicks) + +Eare picker ( = barber) +_Edmond Ironside_, MS. chronicle-play +Empresas +Eringoes +Estridge +Exclaimes + +Family of Love +Fang +_Fatal Maryage_, MS. play +Father-in-law +Feare no colours +Feeres +Felt locks +Feltham's _Resolves_ +Fend ( = make shift with) +Fins (a very doubtful correction for _sins_) +Fisguigge +Flat cap +Flea ( = flay) +Fletcher, John, MS. copy of his _Elder Brother_; his share in the + authorship of _Sir John Van Olden Barnavelt_ +Flewd +Fly boat (see _Addenda_ to vol. i.) +Fool (play on the words _fool_ and _fowl_) +Fooles paradysse +_For I did but kisse her_ (See _Appendix_) +_Fortune my foe_ +Fox +Foxd +Free +Fry(?) +Futra + +Galleyfoist +German fencer +Getes +Ghosts crying _Vindicta_ +Gibb ("A male-cat, now generally applied to one that has been + castrated."--_Halliwell_.) +Giglot +Ginges +Glapthorne, quoted; the play of _The Lady Mother_ identical with + Glapthorne's _Noble Trial_ +Glass, patent for making +Gleeke +Gods dynes +Goll +Gondarino +Gossips +Grandoes +Groaning cake +Guarded ( = trimmed) +Gumd taffety that will not fret (See Nares' _Glossary, s_., + gumm'd velvet.) +Gundelet +Gyges + +Haberdine +Hadiwist +Hanging Tune +Hatto, Bishop +Head ("how fell ye out all a head?") +Hell +Hell, another couple in +Hemming +Hesperides ( = the garden of the Hesperides) +Heywood, Thomas, his play of _The Captives_; lines at the end of his + _Royal King and Loyal Subject_ identical with the Address _To the + Reader_ at the end of H. Shirley's _Martyd Souldier_; the play of + _Dick of Devonshire_ tentatively assigned to him; the MS. play + _Calisto_ composed of scenes from his _Golden Age and Silver Age_ +Hocas pocas +Holland's Leaguer +Horace, quoted (In the lines + "Now die your pleasures, and the dayes you pray + Your rimes and loves and jests will take away" + are imitated from Horace's _Ars Poetica_, ll. 55-6,-- + "Singula de nobis anni praedantur euntes; + Eripuere jocos, Venerem, convivia, ludum.") +Hott shotts +Hounslow Heath, Sword-blade manufactory at +Huckle bone +Huffing +Hunts up +Hypostacies + +Imbrocados (thrusts over the arm in fencing) +Incontinent +Iron mills +It ( = its) + +Jacke +Jiggs +Julius Caesar (puppet-show of) +Juvenal quoted + +Keepe +Knight a the post +Knowes me no more then the begger knowes his dish know him as well as + the begger, &c. +Kramis time + +Lacrymae +Ladies Downfall +_Lady Mother_, comedy by Glapthorne (identical with _The Noble Trial_, + entered in Stationers' Registers in 1660) +Lanch (unnecessarily altered to _lance_ in the text) +_Lancheinge of the May_, MS. play by W.M. Gent. +Lapwing +Larroones +Lather ( = ladder) (In _Women beware Women_ Middleton plays on the word:-- + "_Fab_. When she was invited to an early wedding, + She'd dress her head o'ernight, sponge up herself, + And give her neck three _lathers_. + _Gaar_. Ne'er a halter.") +Laugh and lye downe +Launcepresado +Law, the spider's cobweb +Legerity +Letters of mart +Leveret +Limbo +Line of life +Linstock +Long haire, treatise against (An allusion to William Prynne's tract + _The Unlovelinesse of Love-Lockes_.) +_Loves Changelings Changed_, MS. play founded on Sidney's Arcadia +Low Country Leaguer +Lustique + +Machlaean +Macrios +Magical weed +Makarell +Make ready +March beere +Marlins +Marlowe's _Hero and Leander_ quoted +Marriage, restrained by law at certain seasons +Martial quoted +Mary muffe +Masque (MS.) containing a long passage that is found in Chapman's + _Byron's Tragedie_ +Massinger, his share in the authorship of _Sir John Van Olden Barnavelt_ +Mawmets ( = puppets) +Mawmett ( = Mahomet) +Meath (A curious corruption of _Mentz_. Old printers distorted foreign + names in an extraordinary manner.) +Mechall +Mention ( = dimension) +Mew +Middleton, quotation from his _Family of Love_ +Minikin ( = fiddle) +Mistris +Moe +Monthes mind +Mooncalf +More hayre than wit +Morglay +Mosch +Mother +Motion ( = suggestion, proposal) +Mouse +Much (ironical) +Mumchance +Muscadine +Muschatoes ( = moustaches) +Mushrumps ( = mushrooms) +Music played between the acts +Muskadine with an egg +_My Love can sing no other song_ (See _Appendix_) +Mynsatives + +Nephewes +Nero, his poems +Newmarket +Nifle +Night rail +Ninivie, motion of +Noddy + +Old +Orphant +Outcryes +Outface with a card of ten +Overseene +Owe + +Pantables ( = slippers) +Paris Garden ditch +Pavine +Pedlars' French +Peele's _Hunting of Cupid_ +Peeterman +Persius quoted +Pharo, by the life of (This oath occurs in _first_ edition, 1601, of + _Every Man in his Humour_: in the revised edition it was altered to + "by the _foot_ of Pharaoh.") +Picardo +Pick-hatch +Pilchers +Pimblico +Pinks +Pioner +Plancher +Planet ("Some Planet striketh him") +Plashd +Platform +Plautus' _Rudens_, plot of Heywood's play _The Captives_ drawn from: + quotations from +Pomander +Poore Jhon +_Poore Man's Comfort_ (play by Robert Daborne), MS. copy of +Portage (Undoubtedly we should read _partage_.) +Pot-gun +Pricke-song +Prick and prayse ( = praise of excellence) +Princkocke +Proclamation that the gentry should reside at their mansions in the + country +Proculus +Prologue spoken by a woman +Protest, affected use of the word (See Dyce's _Shakespeare Glossary_.) +Puckfist +Puerelis +Puisne +Puisnes of the Inne +Pumpion +Pun[to] reversos ( = back-handed strokes in fencing) +Push +Putt a girdle round about the world +Puttock + +Quale + +Rabbit-suckers +Rabby Roses (The reference is, probably, to the Arabian physician + Rhazes.) +Racke +Rape, punishment for +Rascal +Rats rhymed to death +Refuse me +Regalias +Rest ("our rest we set") +Rest for every slave to pull at +Reverent ( = reverend) +_Richard II_., MS. play +Ride the wild mare (a rustic sport) +Rincht ( = rinsed) +Road +Roaring boys ( = roisterers) +Rochet +Rope-ripes +Rosemary +Rotten hares +Rudelesse vaile +Russeting + +Sackerson (In the footnote read H_u_nkes for H_a_nkes.) +Salt, sit beneath the +Sarreverence +Scandalum magnatum +Sconce, build a (I supposed that the expression meant "fix a candle in a + candlestick," but I am indebted to Mr. George L. Apperson for the true + explanation. He writes:--"In Dyche's _Dictionary_ (I quote from ed. + 1748) is the verb _sconce_, one of the definitions being--'a cant term + for running up a score at an alehouse or tavern'--with which cf. + Goldsmith's Essays (1765), viii, 'He ran into debt with everybody that + would trust him, and none could _build a sconce_ better than he.' This + explanation seems to me to make Thomas's remark a very characteristic + one." See Grose's _Classical Dictionary of the vulgar tongue_.) +Scottish witch +Scythians +Sentronell ( = centinel) +Seven deadly sinnes, pageant of +Shakespeare imitated; his use of the word road ("This Doll Tearsheet + should be some road") illustrated; mentioned in _Captain Underwit_ +Sharpe, play at. (Cf. _Swetnam the Woman Hater_, 1620, sig. G. 3:-- + "But cunning Cupid forecast me to recoile: + For when he _plaid at sharpe_ I had the foyle.") +Shellain +Sherryes +Ship, the great +Shipwreck by land +Shirley, James, author of _Captain Underwit_; quoted +Shoulder pack't +Shrovetide, hens thrashed at +Shrove Tuesday, riotous conduct of apprentices on +Sib +Signeor No +_Sister awake! close not your eyes!_ +Sister's thread +_Sleep, wayward thoughts_ (See _Appendix_) +Slug +Smell-feast +Snaphance +Sowse +Spanish fig +Sparabiles +Spend +Spenser, imitated +Spurne-point +Stafford's lawe +Stand on poynts +Standage +Stavesucre ( = staves-acre) +Steccadoes ( = stoccadoes, thrusts in fencing) +Stewd prunes +Stigmaticke +Stoope +Striker +Strive curtesies ( = stand upon ceremony) +Suds, in the +Suetonius, quoted +Sure +Surreverence + +Tacitus, quoted +Take me with you +Take in +Tarleton +Tarriers +_Tell Tale, the_, (MS. play) +Tent +Termagant +_The Fryer was in the_--(See _Appendix_) +Three Cranes +Thumb, to bite the +Ticktacks +Tickle minikin ( = play on the fiddle) +Timeless ( = untimely) +Tobacco (price of) +Toot +Totter +Totter'd +Traind band +Transportation of ordnance +Trevants. (_Trevant_ is a corruption of _Germ. Traban_ = guard.) +Trewe ( = honest) +Tripennies +Trondling +Trouses +True man +Trundle bed +Trunk-hose +Tub-hunter ( = parasite) +Turnops +_Two Noble Ladyes_. (The plot is partly founded on Calderon's + _Magico Prodigioso_.) + +Uncouth +Unicorn's horn +Unreadie +Upper stage +Ure + +Varlet +Vaunt-currying +Venetian +Verjuice made by stamping crab-apples +Vie +Vild +Virgil, quoted +Virginal +Virginall Jacks + +Warning-peece +Wax, limbes mad[e] out of +Webster's _White Devil_, allusion to +Welshmen proud of their gentility +Wet finger +What make you here? +_What thing is Love?_ +Whifflers +Whisht +White sonne +Whytinge mopp +Widgeing +Wildfowl ("Cut up wildfowl"--a slang expression) +Wilding +Windmills at Finsbury (See Stow's _Survey_, b. iii, p. 70, ed. 1720.) +Wit without money +Woad, patents for planting of ("_Woad_ is an herbe brought from the + parts of Tolouse in France, and from Spaine, much used and very + necessary in the dying of wollen cloath."--Cowell's _Interpreter_.) +_Woman Hater, the_ +Wonning +Woodcock ( = simpleton) + +Zygne ("Untill the zygne be gone below the hart") + + + + +FOOTNOTES: + + +[1] "The tragedy of Sir John Van Olden Barnavelt. Herdrukt naar de +Vitgrave van A.H. Bullen, met een Inleidung van R. Fruin. 'sGravenhage, +Martinus Nijhoff, 1884," 8vo., pp. xxxiii. 95. + +[2] I fondly hoped that vol. iii. was immaculate; but on p. 21, last +line, I find that _spring_ has been misprinted _soring_. On p. 290, l. 3, +_sewe_ is a misprint for _serve_. + +[3] It is curious that the next entry refers to a piece by Chettle +called "The Orphanes Tragedy," a title which at once reminds us of the +second plot of Yarington's play. + +[4] The actor who took the part of _Truth_ is to be in readiness to +enter: he comes forward presently. In plays printed from play-house +copies, stage-directions are frequently given in advance. + +[5] _Timeless_ in the sense of _untimely_ occurs in Marlowe, &c. + +[6] Old ed. "attended." + +[7] The old form of _guests_. + +[8] The word _fairing_ (i.e. a present brought home from a fair) is +explained by the fact that Beech was murdered on Bartholomew eve ("Tis +Friday night besides and Bartholomew eve"). Bartholomew Fair was held +the next day. + +[9] A famous tavern in Thames Street. + +[10] Proposal. + +[11] Nares supposed that the expression _fear no colours_ was "probably +at first a military expression, to fear no enemy. So Shakespeare derives +it [_Twelfth Night_, i. 5], and, though the passage is comic, it is +likely to be right." + +[12] "Here on" = hear one. + +[13] i.e. what are you doing here so late? + +[14] Old ed. "gentleman." + +[15] Old ed. "ends." + +[16] Mr. Rendle in his interesting account of the _Bankside and the +Globe Playhouse_ (appended to Pt. II. of Mr. Furnivall's edition of +Harrison's _England_) says:--"As to the features of the locality we may +note that it was intersected in all directions with streams, not shown +in the map of the manor, except _Utburne_, the _Outbourne_ possibly; and +that bridges abounded." + +[17] Use. + +[18] The music between the acts. + +[19] Pert youth. + +[20] i.e. thread of life. (An expression borrowed from palmistry: _line +of life_ was the name for one of the lines in the hand.) + +[21] Rashers. + +[22] See note [105] in Vol. III. + +[23] Old ed. "safely." + +[24] Bushes. In I _Henry IV_., 5, i., we have the adjective _busky_. +Spenser uses the subst. _busket_ (Fr. _bosquet_). + +[25] I can make nothing of this word, and suspect we should read "cry." + +[26] Quy. flewed (i.e. with large chaps)? Perhaps (as Mr. Fleay +suggests) flocked = flecked. + +[27] Old ed. "fathers." + +[28] i.e. had I known. "A common exclamation of those who repented of +anything unadvisedly undertaken."--Nares. + +[29] 4to. "tell." + +[30] Equivalent to a dissyllable (unless we read "damnèd"). + +[31] Baynard's Castle, below St. Paul's, was built by a certain Baynard +who came in the train of William the Conqueror. It was rebuilt by +Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester, and was finally consumed in the Great Fire +of London. + +[32] Perhaps this speech should be printed as verse. + +[33] Own. + +[34] 4to. "this." + +[35] 4to. "This." + +[36] 4to. "misguiseth." + +[37] _White_ was a term of endearment,--as in the common expression +_white boy_. + +[38] 4to. "ease-dropping." + +[39] Dwell. + +[40] Deformed, ugly (lit. branded with an iron). + +[41] Cf. Middleton's _Trick to Catch the Old One_, V. 2:-- + + "And ne'er start + To be let blood _though sign be at heart_;" + +on which passage Dyce remarks that "according to the directions for +bleeding in old almanacs blood was to be taken from particular parts +under particular planets." + +[42] Is admitted to "benefit of clergy." Harrison, in his _Description +of England_, tells us that those who "are saved by their bookes and +cleargie, are burned in the left hand, vpon the brawne of the thombe +with an hot iron, so that if they be apprehended againe, that marke +bewraieth them to have beene arraigned of fellonie before, whereby they +are sure at that time to have no mercie. I doo not read that this +custome of saving by the booke is vsed anie where else then in England; +neither doo I find (after much diligent inquirie) what Saxon prince +ordeined that lawe" (Book II. cap. xi.). See the article _Clergie_ in +Cowell's _Interpreter_ (1637). + +[43] Brand. + +[44] Therefore acted by the Queen of Bohemia's Company who at that time +occupied the Cockpit.--F.G. Fleay. + +[45] Some seven or eight years ago I pointed out in _Notes and Queries_ +that the idea of this droll incident was taken from a passage of Timaeus +of Tauromenium (see Athenaeus, _Deipnosoph_., ii. 5); but others--as I +afterwards learned--had anticipated my discovery. + +[46] This and the following speech are marked for omission in the MS. + +[47] The words "Not so, frend," are scored through. + +[48] The words "_Frenshe_ monster" are scored through. + +[49] "Makarel" = maquerelle (a bawd). + +[50] This passage illustrates 2 _Henry IV_., iv. 2:--"This Doll +Tearsheet should be some _road_." See my note on Middleton's _Your Five +Gallants_ (Works, vol. iii. p. 220). + +[51] Small boats with narrow sterns (Fr. pinque). Cf. Heywood's _I +Edward IV_.:--"Commend me to blacke _Luce_, bouncing _Bess_, and lusty +_Kate_, and the other pretty morsels of man's flesh. Farewell, _pink_ +and pinnace, flibote and carvel, _Turnbull_ and _Spittal_" +(Works, i. 38). + +[52] Fast-sailing vessels (Span, filibote). + +[53] The words "that ... husband" are scored through in the MS. + +[54] This and the two following lines are marked for omission. + +[55] The next word is illegible. + +[56] A long barge with oars. + +[57] "Misreated" = misrated? But the reading of the MS. is not plain. + +[58] "Do intend" is a correction in the MS. for "have bespoeke." + +[59] Old spelling of _convent_. + +[60] Cautious. + +[61] This speech is scored through. + +[62] The reading of the MS. is not clear. + +[63] Again I am doubtful about the reading of the MS. + +[64] "A shewer" = ashore. + +[65] Some letters are cut away in the MS. Perhaps Mildew was represented +with _Judas-coloured_ (i.e. red) hair; but Raphael presently describes +him as "graye and hoary," and afterwards we are told that he was bald. + +[66] Search, probe. + +[67] The stage-direction is not marked in the MS. + +[68] Track by the scent. + +[69] There is no stage-direction in the old copy. + +[70] This and the next three lines are marked for omission. + +[71] In this soliloquy Heywood closely follows Plautus: see _Rudens_, +i. 3, "Hanccine ego partem capio ob pietatem praecipuam," &c. + +[72] Three cancelled lines follow in the MS.:-- + + "So if you ... any mercy for him, + Oh if there be left any mercy for him + Nowe in these bryny waves made cleane for heaven." + +[73] This and the eight following lines appear to be marked for omission +in the MS. + +[74] This line is scored through in the MS. + +[75] This line is scored through in the MS. + +[76] The words "Some faggotts ... cloathes" are scored through in the MS. + +[77] "Monthes mind" = strong desire. + +[78] So the MS. But I am tempted to read, at Mr. Fleay's suggestion, +"steeples." + +[79] Cf. _Rudens_, ii. 1:-- + + "Cibum captamus e mari: sin eventus non venit, + Neque quidquam captum est piscium, salsi lautique pure, + Domum redimus clanculum, dormimus incoenati." + +[80] The words "hence we may ... wretched lyfe" are scored through in +the MS. + +[81] In the MS. the words "whither his frend travelled" are scored +through. + +[82] In the MS. follow some words that have been cancelled:--"Only, +for ought I can perceive all to no purpose, but understand of no such +people. But what are these things that have slipt us? No countrie shall +slippe me." + +[83] "Salvete, fures maritimi." _Rudens_, ii. 2. + +[84] Honest. + +[85] "_Trach_. Ecquem + Recalvum ac silonem senem, statutum, ventriosum, + Tortis superciliis, contracta fronte, fraudulentum, + Deorum odium atque hominum, malum, mali vitii probrique plenum, + Qui duceret mulierculas duas secum, satis venustas? + + _Pisc_. Cum istiusmodi virtutibus operisque natus qui sit, + Eum quidem ad carnificem est aequius quam ad Venerem + commeare."--_Rudens_, ii. 2. + +[86] See the Introduction. + +[87] In the MS. follow some cancelled words:--"Il fyrst in and see her +bycause I will bee suer tis shee. Oh, _Mercury_, that I had thy winges +tyde to my heeles." + +[88] "Who ever lov'd," &c.--A well-known line from Marlowe's _Hero and +Leander_. + +[89] There is no stage-direction in the MS. + +[90] Adulterous.--So Heywood in _The English Traveller_, iii. 1,-- +"Pollute the Nuptiall bed with _Michall_ [i.e. mechal] sinne." Again +in Heywood's _Rape of Lucreece_, "Men call in witness of your _mechall_ +sin." + +[91] This speech is scored through in the MS. + +[92] "Whytinge mopp" = young whiting. The term was often applied to a +girl. See Nares' _Glossary_. + +[93] In the MS. follow two lines that have been scored through:-- + + "And not deteine, for feare t'bee to my cost, + Though both my kisse and all my paynes be lost." + +[94] _Widgeon_ (like _woodcock_) is a term for a simpleton. + +[95] In the MS. follow two lines which have been so effectually scored +through that I can only read an occasional word. + +[96] In the MS. follows a cancelled passage:-- + + "_Mild_ Had not thy greater fraught bin shipt with myne + We had never been oversett. + + _Sarl_. I rather think + Had ... when fyrst the shippe began to dance + ... thrown all the curst Lading over-board + Wee had still light and tight." + +[97] The word _burn_ is frequently used in an indelicate sense. + +[98] Keys of the virginal (a musical instrument resembling a spinnet). + +[99] This speech is scored through in the MS. + +[100] The words "Heeres sweet stuffe!" are scored through. + +[101] This line is scored through. + +[102] Kill. + +[103] In the left-hand margin of the MS. is a stage-direction in +advance:--"_Fellowes ready. Palestra, Scribonia, with Godfrey, Mildew, +Sarly_." + +[104] Not marked in the MS. + +[105] MS. "when." + +[106] In the left-hand margin of the MS. is a note:--"_Gib: Stage +Taylor_." + +[107] "Too arch-pillers" = two desperate ruffians. "Pill" = ravage, +plunder. + +[108] "_Il a esté au festin de Martin baston_, he hath had a triall in +_Stafford Court_, or hath received Jacke Drums intertainment." +--_Colgrave_. + +[109] From this point to the entrance of Raphael the dialogue is scored +through in the MS. + +[110] The reading of the MS. is doubtful. + +[111] "Guarded" = trimmed, ornamented. + +[112] This speech is scored through in the MS. + +[113] Not marked in the MS. + +[114] Not marked in the MS. + +[115] "Anythinge for a quiett lyfe"--a proverbial expression: the title +of one of Middleton's plays. + +[116] So I read at a venture. The MS. appears to give "Inseinge." + +[117] Not marked in the MS. In the right-hand margin is written "clere," +i.e., clear the stage for the next act. + +[118] A _fisgig_ was a sort of harpoon. + +[119] "Poore Jhon" = inferior hake. + +[120] This and the two following speeches are marked for omission in +the MS. + +[121] A nickname (from the apostle Peter) for a fisherman. + +[122] A small box or portmanteau. + +[123] Owns. + +[124] This speech and the next are marked for omission. + +[125] Fish-baskets. + +[126] The rest of the speech is marked for omission. + +[127] Bawd. + +[128] i.e., _Exeunt Palestra, Scribonia, and Godfrey: manet Ashburne_. + +[129] In the MS. follows some conversation which has been scored +through:-- + + "_Fisher_. Yes, syrrahe, and thy mayster. + + _Clown_. Then I have nothing at this tyme to do with thee. + + _Fisher_. Marry, a good motion: farewell and bee hangde. + + _Clown_. Wee are not so easly parted.--Is this your man?" + +[130] The following passage has been scored through in the MS.: + + "[_Ashb_.] Say, whats the stryfe? + + _Clown_. Marry, who fyrst shall speake. + + _Fisher_. Thats I. + + _Clown_. I appeale then to the curtesy due to a stranger. + + _Fisher_. And I to the right belonging to a ... what ere he says." + +[131] The MS. is broken away. + +[132] Penny. + +[133] The date has been scored through in the MS.: the number after "6" +has been turned into "3," but seems to have been originally "0." In the +margin "1530" is given as a correction. + +[134] Not marked in the MS. + +[135] This dialogue between Ashburne and the Clown is closely imitated +from _Rudens_, iv. 6. + +[136] The words "Nowe ... scurvy tune" are scored through. + +[137] Old form of _digest_. + +[138] The words "will for mee" are a correction in the MS. for "at this +tyme." + +[139] The MS. has:-- + + "Hee's now where hee's in Comons, wee ... ... + Heare on this seate (nay hold your head up, _Jhon_, + Lyke a goodd boy), freely discharged our selfes." + +In the first line "Hee's now where hee's" has been altered to "Hee's +where hee is," and the two next lines have been cancelled. + +[140] The reader will remember a somewhat similar incident in the _Jew +of Malta_, iv. 3, and in a well-known tale of the _Arabian Nights_. + +[141] In the left-hand margin of the MS. is written "_Fry: Jo: +nod_."--i.e., Friar John totters from the blow. Beneath "nod" is the +word "arras," which has been scored through. + +[142] i.e., I have't. + +[143] The exclamation of old Hieronimo's ghost in Kyd's _Spanish +Tragedy_. Cf. Induction to _Warning for Fair Women_:-- + + "Then, too, a filthy whining ghost + Lapt in some foul sheet, or a leather pilch, + Comes screaming like a pig half stick'd, + And cries, _Vindicta_!--Revenge, Revenge!" + +[144] "_Bases_, s.pl.--A kind of embroidered mantle which hung down from +the middle to about the knees, or lower, worn by knights on +horseback."--_Nares_. + +[145] In the right-hand margin is written "_Fact: Gibson_"--Gibson being +the name of the actor who took the Factor's part. + +[146] Not marked in the MS. + +[147] _Quart d'écu_--a fourth part of a crown. + +[148] A quibble on the _aurum potabile_ of the old pharmacists. +--F.G. Fleay. + +[149] In the MS. is a marginal note, "_Stagekeepers as a guard_." + +[150] Sarleboyes' speeches are scored through in the MS. + +[151] This speech is scored through. + +[152] Mopper of a vessel. + +[153] A not uncommon corruption of _Mahomet_. + +[154] "Sowse" = (1) halfpenny (Fr. sou), (2) blow. In the second sense +the word is not uncommonly found; in the first sense it occurs in the +ballad of _The Red Squair_-- + + "It greivit him sair that day I trow + With Sir John Hinrome of Schipsydehouse, + For cause we were not men enow + He counted us not worth a _souse_." + +We have this word again on p. 208, "Not a _sowse_ less then a full +thousand crownes." + +[155] Prison. + +[156] A quibble. "Points" were the tags which held up the breeches. + +[157] This line is scored through. + +[158] Old form of _convert_. + +[159] _Analytical Index to the Series of Records known as the +Remembrancia_ (printed for the Corporation of London in 1878), +pp. 215-16. + +[160] See _Calendar of State Papers, Domestic_, 1611-18, p. 207. + +[161] See Gilford's note on _The Devil is an Ass_, ii. 1; +_Remembrancia_, p. 43; _Cal. of State Papers, Domestic_, 1611-18. + +[162] Quy. "true"? + +[163] Esteem, weigh. + +[164] The old ed. gives: "Ile trie your courage--draw." The last word +was undoubtedly intended for a stage-direction. + +[165] Equivalent, as frequently, to a dissyllable. + +[166] Exclamations. + +[167] Vile. + +[168] Not marked in the old ed. + +[169] Old ed. "fate." + +[170] Old ed. "brought." + +[171] Old ed. "wood."--"_Anno 35 Reginae (Eliz.)_ ... A License to +_William Aber_, To Sow _Six Hundred_ Acres of Ground with _Oade_ ... A +Patent to _Valentise Harris_, To Sow _Six Hundred_ Acres of Ground with +_Woade_."--Townshend's _Historical Collections_, 1680, p. 245. + +[172] See my remarks in the Introduction. + +[173] So the old ed. The metrical harshness may be avoided by reading +"And by this sword and crownet have resign'd" (or "And by this coronet +and sword resign"). + +[174] Owns. + +[175] Old ed. "Gorges."--I suppose there is an allusion, which must not +be taken too literally, to the story of Candaules and Gyges (see +Herodotus, lib. i. 8). + +[176] This is the unintelligible reading of the old ed.--"This action, +_sure_, breeds" &c., would be hardly satisfactory. + +[177] Lucian tells a story of a youth who fell in love with Praxiteles' +statue of Aphrodite: see _Imagines_, § 4. He tells the story more +elaborately in his _Amores_. + +[178] Concert. + +[179] Old ed. "denie." + +[180] Before this line the old ed. gives the prefix "_Val_." Perhaps a +speech of Montano has dropped out. + +[181] Old ed. "although no a kin." + +[182] Old ed. "_light_ fall soft." Probably the poet originally wrote +"light," and afterwards wrote "fall" above as a correction (or "light" +may have been caught by the printer's eye from the next line). + +[183] _Doorkeeper_ was a common term for a pander. + +[184] Skin. + +[185] Old ed. "crowne."--My correction restores the sense and gives a +tolerable rhyme to "heare." Cf. p. 262. + + "And in this Chaire, prepared for a Duke, + Sit, my bright Dutchesse." + +[186] Old ed. "_Exit_." + +[187] Old ed. "have her honour." + +[188] In the Parliament of 1601 Sir Walter Raleigh and others vigorously +denounced the exportation of ordnance. See Townshend's _Historical +Collections_, 1680, pp. 291-5. + +[189] "Letters of Mart" = letters of marque. + +[190] Old ed. "now." + +[191] Old ed. "when." ("Then" = than.) + +[192] Old ed. "good." + +[193] Old ed. "this dissemblance." + +[194] See note [50]. + +[195] Old ed. "esteem'd." + +[196] "Open ... palpable ... grosse ... mountaine." The writer had +surely in his mind Prince Hal's words to Falstaff:--"These lies are +like their father that begets them: _gross_ as a _mountain, open, +palpable_." + +[197] Old ed. "Of Lenos mathrens." I have no doubt that my correction +restores the true reading. Cf. above "_Panders_ and _Parasites_ sit in +the places," &c. + +[198] Quy. "_On_, friends, to warre"? Perhaps something has dropped +out--"_Urge all_ our friends to warre." + +[199] Old ed. "dishonour'd." + +[200] Not marked in old ed. + +[201] This speech is not very intelligible, but I can only mend it by +violent changes. + +[202] Old ed. "payes all." + +[203] Old ed. "of this spatious play." + +[204] Crack. + +[205] Old ed. "sould." + +[206] Old ed. "are." + +[207] Old ed. "warre." + +[208] Old ed. "free." + +[209] Old ed. "And." + +[210] Old ed. "Then." + +[211] See remarks in the Introduction. + +[212] Old ed. "a jemme." + +[213] Quy. "creep" (for the sake of the rhyme)? + +[214] Gondola. + +[215] Old ed. "recover'd." + +[216] "_Timelesse_ lives taken away" = lives cut short by an _untimely_ +stroke. + +[217] Old ed. "prisoned." + +[218] Old ed. "playes." + +[219] In _As You Like It_, Rosalind, speaking the Epilogue, justifies +the novelty of the proceeding:--"It is not the fashion to see the lady +the epilogue; but it is no more unhandsome than to see the lord the +prologue."--Flavia is the earliest example, so far as I know, of a +lady-prologue. + +[220] Old ed. "Endeauours." + +[221] Old ed. "smile." The emendation was suggested to me by Mr. Fleay. + +[222] The old ed. gives "they are monsters _Graccus_, they call them," +assigning Graccus' speech to Acutus. + +[223] Old ed. "Of." + +[224] The old form of _bankrupt_. + +[225] _Canaries_ was the name of a lively dance. + +[226] A skeleton. Perhaps we should read "an atomy." + +[227] Not marked in old ed. + +[228] Not marked in old ed. + +[229] Old ed. "Sernulas." + +[230] Old ed. "Srnu." + +[231] Old ed. "Here's none but only I, sing." I take the word _sing_ to +be a stage-direction, and the preceding words to be part of a song. + +[232] "More hayre than wit"--a proverbial expression. Ray gives the +proverb, "Bush natural, more hair than wit." + +[233] Old ed. "Least." + +[234] Old ed. "_Phy_." Scilicet is offering a second ducket to his +instructor. + +[235] The rest of the speech is given to "_Seru_." in the old ed. + +[236] A sweet Spanish wine. + +[237] Not marked in old ed. + +[238] See note [63] in vol. II. + +[239] Old ed. "suret." + +[240] An allusion to the religious sect called _The Family of Love_. + +[241] Not marked in old ed. + +[242] Not marked in old ed. + +[243] The old ed. gives "burbarrels." The allusion is to the +_bum-rolls_,--stuffed cushions worn by women to make their petticoats +swell out. Cf. Stephen Gosson's _Pleasant Quippes_-- + + "If _barreld bums_ were full of ale, + They well might serve Tom Tapsters turne." + +[244] Old ed. "women." + +[245] Not marked in old ed. + +[246] Breeches that came below the garters. + +[247] I am unable to mend this passage. + +[248] Old ed. "looke."--Perhaps we should read "With him--ah, looke! +looke!--the bright," &c. + +[249] Old ed. "if they twang." + +[250] Not marked in old ed. + +[251] This is Mr. Fleay's correction for old ed.'s "Conceale." + +[252] Old ed. "In on the scale." + +[253] Not marked in old ed. + +[254] See note [85] in vol. II. + +[255] I suspect that we should read "my humour," and that the rest of +the speech should be given to Flavia. + +[256] The small bowl--the "Jack"--at which the players aimed in the game +of bowls. + +[257] Old ed. "_Scil_." + +[258] Old ed. "_Sernulus_." + +[259] An allusion to the _Sententiae Pueriles_ of Dionysius Cato, a +famous old school-book. + +[260] Not marked in old ed. + +[261] Old ed. "minited." + +[262] The first words of a charming song printed in Bateson's +_Madrigals_, 1604. Here is the song as I find it printed in the +excellent collection of _Rare Poems_ (1883) edited by my honoured +friend, Mr. W.J. Linton:-- + + "Sister, awake! close not your eyes! + The day its light discloses: + And the bright Morning doth arise + Out of her bed of roses. + + See! the clear Sun, the world's bright eye, + In at our window peeping! + Lo, how he blusheth to espy + Us idle wenches sleeping. + + Therefore, awake, make haste, I say, + And let us without staying, + All in our gowns of green so gay + Into the park a-maying." + +[263] "A sort of game played with cards or dice. Silence seems to have +been essential at it; whence its name. Used in later times as a kind of +proverbial term for being silent."--_Nares_. + +[264] Embrace. + +[265] Cf. _Titus Andronicus_, v. 1, "As true a dog as ever fought at +head." In bear-bating dogs were incited by the cry _To head, to head_! +See my edition of Marlowe, iii. 241. + +[266] Artery. + +[267] The sword of Sir Bevis of Southampton; hence a general term for a +sword. + +[268] Lint applied to wounds. + +[269] The mixture of muscadine and eggs was esteemed a powerful +provocative. + +[270] A corruption of _Span_. "buenos noches"--good night. + +[271] Old ed. "_Philantus_." + +[272] Old ed. "earely." + +[273] Bellafront in Pt. II. of _The Honest Whore_, iv. 1, says-- +"I, though with face mask'd, could not scape the _hem_." + +[274] Old ed. "let." + +[275] Old form of _pish_. + +[276] _Guard_ = fringe. The coats of Fools were _guarded_. + +[277] "Till death us _de_part"--so the form stood in the +marriage-service; now modernised to "do part." + +[278] Quean. + +[279] Not marked in old ed. + +[280] Not marked in old ed. + +[281] I have added the bracketed words; the sense requires them. + +[282] A musical term.--"The running a simple strain into a great variety +of shorter notes to the same modulation."--_Nares_. + +[283] Not marked in old ed. + +[284] Old ed. "Ye faith." + +[285] Old ed. "valley." + +[286] Old ed. "_Flau_." + +[287] Old ed. "_Tul_." + +[288] "Fortune, my foe, why doest thou frown on me?" is the first line +of an old ballad. + +[289] Not marked in old ed. + +[290] Old ed. "Tis." + +[291] "Unreadie" = undressed. + +[292] To the christening. + +[293] There is no stage-direction in the old ed. + +[294] Old ed. "foole." + +[295] "Duns the mouse"--a proverbial expression. See Dyce's _Shakespeare +Glossary_. + +[296] Old ed. "a close." + +[297] Not marked in old ed. + +[298] i.e. _bezzling_, tippling. + +[299] "Well nigh whittled, almost drunke, somewhat _overseen_." +--_Colgrave_. + +[300] Not marked in old ed. + +[301] Contracted. + +[302] An allusion to the proverbial expression, _Wit without money_. + +[303] An old form of "apron." + +[304] The citizens of London continued to wear flat caps (and +encountered much ridicule in consequence) long after they were generally +disused. + +[305] Not marked in old ed. + +[306] Not marked in old ed. + +[307] Old form of _digestion_. + +[308] Old ed. "Philantus." + +[309] More. + +[310] Old ed. "_Phylantus." + +[311] Quy. "and, swilling those bowels [bowls], Death did," &c.? + +[312] Old ed. "him himselfe." + +[313] See note [288].--In old ed. the words are given to _Grac_. + +[314] See note [295]. + +[315] Hip-bone. + +[316] Old ed. "are are." + +[317] Virg. _Ecls_. iv. 1. 49. _Bovis_ is of course an intentional +misquotation for _Jovis_. + +[318] Honest. + +[319] Old ed. "prig"; but on p. 375 we have "a mad merie grig." + +[320] The _City of Niniveh_ and _Julius Caesar_ were famous +puppet-shows. + +[321] Not marked in old ed. + +[322] Old ed. "and." + +[323] Old ed. "_Cittie Wife_." + +[324] This speech is printed as verse in the old ed. + +[325] Old ed. "witnesses." + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Collection Of Old English Plays, +Vol. IV., by Editor: A.H. Bullen + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10925 *** diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7f27f90 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #10925 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/10925) diff --git a/old/10925-8.txt b/old/10925-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b0cfb21 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/10925-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,16461 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Collection Of Old English Plays, Vol. IV. +by Editor: A.H. Bullen + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: A Collection Of Old English Plays, Vol. IV. + +Author: Editor: A.H. Bullen + +Release Date: February 3, 2004 [EBook #10925] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OLD ENGLISH PLAYS, V4 *** + + + + +Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Tapio Riikonen and PG Distributed +Proofreaders + + + + +A COLLECTION OF OLD ENGLISH PLAYS, VOL. IV + +In Four Volumes + + +Edited by + +A.H. BULLEN + + +1882-89. + + + + +CONTENTS: + +Preface +Two Tragedies in One. By Robert Yarington +The Captives, or the Lost Recovered. By Thomas Heywood +The Costlie Whore. +Everie Woman in her Humor. +Appendix +Index +Footnotes + + + +PREFACE. + +The fourth and final volume of this Collection of Old Plays ought to +have been issued many months ago. I dare not attempt to offer any +excuses for the wholly unwarrantable delay. + +In the preface to the third volume I stated that I hoped to be able to +procure a transcript of an unpublished play (preserved in Eg. MS. 1,994) +of Thomas Heywood. It affords me no slight pleasure to include this play +in the present volume. Mr. JEAVES, of the Manuscript Department of the +British Museum, undertook the labour of transcription and persevered to +the end. As I have elsewhere stated, the play is written in a detestable +hand; and few can appreciate the immense trouble that it cost Mr. JEAVES +to make his transcript. Where Mr. JEAVES' labours ended mine began; I +spent many days in minutely comparing the transcript with the original. +There are still left passages that neither of us could decipher, but +they are not numerous. + +I may be pardoned for regarding the Collection with some pride. Six of +the sixteen plays are absolutely new, printed for the first time; and I +am speaking within bounds when I declare that no addition so substantial +has been made to the Jacobean drama since the days of Humphrey Moseley +and Francis Kirkman. _Sir John Van Olden Barnavelt_ has been styled by +Mr. Swinburne a "noble poem." Professor Delius urged that it should be +translated into German; and I understand that an accomplished scholar, +Dr. Gelbeke of St. Petersburg, has just completed an admirable +translation. Meanwhile the English edition[1] has been reproduced in +Holland. + +In the original announcement of this Collection I promised a reprint of +_Arden of Feversham_ from the quarto of 1592; I also proposed to include +plays by Davenport, William Rowley, and Nabbes. After I had transcribed +_Arden of Feversham_ I determined not to include it in the present +series. It occurred to me that I should enhance the value of these +volumes by excluding such plays as were already accessible in modern +editions. Accordingly I rejected _Arden of Feversham, Sir John +Oldcastle, Patient Grissel_, and _The Yorkshire Tragedy_. The plays of +Davenport, William Rowley, and Nabbes were excluded on other grounds. +Several correspondents suggested to me that I should issue separately +the complete works of each of these three dramatists; and, not without +some misgivings, I adopted this suggestion. + +I acknowledge with regret that the printing has not been as accurate as +I should have desired. There have been too many misprints, especially in +the first two volumes;[2] but in the eyes of generous and competent +readers these blemishes (trivial for the most part) will not detract +from the solid value of the Collection. + +It remains that I should thank Mr. BERNARD QUARITCH, the most famous +bibliopole of our age (or any age), for the kind interest that he has +shewn in the progress of my undertaking. Of his own accord Mr. QUARITCH +offered to subscribe for one third of the impression,--an offer which I +gratefully accepted. I have to thank Mr. FLEAY for looking over the +proof-sheets of a great part of the present volume and for aiding me +with suggestions and corrections. To Dr. KÖHLER, librarian to the Grand +Duke of Weimar, I am indebted for the true solution (see _Appendix_) of +the rebus at the end of _The Distracted Emperor_. Mr. EBSWORTH, with his +usual kindness, helped me to identify some of the songs mentioned in +_Everie Woman in Her Humor_ (see _Appendix_). + +17, SUMATRA ROAD, WEST HAMPSTEAD, N.W. + +_8th October, 1885_. + + + + + + +INTRODUCTION TO _TWO TRAGEDIES IN ONE_. + + +Of Robert Yarington, the author of _Two Tragedies in One_ absolutely +nothing is known. There is no mention of him in Henslowe's Diary, and +none of his contemporaries (so far as I can discover) make the slightest +allusion to him. The _Two Tragedies_ is of the highest rarity and has +never been reprinted before. + +There are two distinct plots in the present play. The one relates to the +murder of Robert Beech, a chandler of Thames Street, and his boy, by a +tavern-keeper named Thomas Merry; and the other is founded on a story +which bears some resemblance to the well-known ballad of _The Babes in +the Wood_. I have not been able to discover the source from which the +playwright drew his account of the Thames Street murder. Holinshed and +Stow are silent; and I have consulted without avail Antony Munday's +"View of Sundry Examples," 1580, and "Sundry strange and inhumaine +Murthers lately committed," 1591 (an excessively rare, if not unique, +tract preserved at Lambeth). Yet the murder must have created some stir +and was not lightly forgotten. From Henslowe's Diary[3] (ed. Collier, +pp. 92-3) we learn that in 1599 Haughton and Day wrote a tragedy on the +subject,--"the Tragedy of Thomas Merrye." The second plot was derived, I +suppose, from some Italian story; and it is not improbable that the +ballad of the _Babes in the Wood_ (which was entered in the +Stationers' Books in 1595, tho' the earliest printed copy extant is the +black-letter broadside--circ. 1640?--in the Roxburghe Collection) was +adapted from Yarington's play. + +Although not published until 1601, the _Two Tragedies_ would seem from +internal evidence to have been written some years earlier. The language +has a bald, antiquated look, and the stage-directions are amusingly +simple. I once entertained a theory (which I cannot bring myself to +wholly discard) that _Arden of Feversham_, 1592, _Warning for Fair +Women_, 1599, and _Two Tragedies in One_, 1601, are all by the same +hand; that the _Warning_ and _Two Tragedies_, though published later, +were early essays by the author whose genius displayed its full power in +_Arden of Feversham_. A reader who will take the trouble to read the +three plays together will discover many points of similarity between +them. _Arden_ is far more powerful than the two other plays; but I +venture to think that the superiority lies rather in single scenes and +detached passages than in general dramatic treatment. The noble scene of +the quarrel and reconciliation between Alice Arden and Mosbie is +incomparably finer than any scene in the _Warning_ or _Two Tragedies_; +but I am not sure that Arden contains another scene which can be +definitely pronounced to be beyond Yarington's ability, though there are +many scattered passages displaying such poetry as we find nowhere in the +_Two Tragedies_. That Yarington could write vigorously is shown in the +scene where Fallerio hires the two murderers (who remind us of Shagbag +and Black Will in _Arden_) to murder his nephew; and again in the +quarrel between these two ruffians. Allenso's affection for his little +cousin and solicitude at their parting are tenderly portrayed with +homely touches of quiet pathos. The diction of the _Two Tragedies_ is +plain and unadorned. In reading _Arden_ we sometimes feel that the +simplicity of language has been deliberately adopted for artistic +purposes; that the author held plenty of strength in reserve, and would +not have been wanting if the argument had demanded a loftier style. In +Yarington's case we have no such feeling. He seems to be giving us the +best that he had to give; and it must be confessed that he is +intolerably flat at times. It is difficult to resist a smile when the +compassionate Neighbour (in his shirt), discovering poor Thomas +Winchester with the hammer sticking in his head, delivers himself after +this fashion:-- + + "What cruell hand hath done so foule a deede, + Thus to bemangle a distressed youth + Without all pittie or a due remorse! + See how the hammer sticketh in his head + Wherewith this honest youth is done to death! + Speak, honest _Thomas_, if any speach remaine: + What cruell hand hath done this villanie?" + +Merry's "last dying speech and confession" is as nasty as such things +usually are. + +In the introduction to _Arden of Feversham_ I intend to return to the +consideration of Yarington's _Two Tragedies_. + + + + +Two Lamentable Tragedies. + + +The one, of the Murther of _Maister_ Beech A _Chaundler in_ +Thames-streete, and his boye, done by _Thomas Merry_. + +_The other of a Young childe murthered_ in a Wood by two Ruffins, _with +the consent of his Vnckle_. + +By ROB. YARINGTON. + +LONDON. + +Printed for _Mathew Lawe, and are to be solde at _his Shop in Paules +Church-yarde neere vnto S. Austines Gate, at the signe of the Foxe_. +1601. + + + + +Two Tragedies in One. + + + _Enter Homicide, solus_. + +I have in vaine past through each stately streete, +And blinde-fold turning of this happie towne, +For wealth, for peace, and goodlie government, +Yet can I not finde out a minde, a heart +For blood and causelesse death to harbour in; +They all are bent with vertuous gainefull trade, +To get their needmentes for this mortall life, +And will not soile their well-addicted harts +With rape, extortion, murther, or the death +Of friend or foe, to gaine an Empery. +I cannot glut my blood-delighted eye +With mangled bodies which do gaspe and grone, +Readie to passe to faire Elizium, +Nor bath my greedie handes in reeking blood +Of fathers by their children murthered: +When all men else do weepe, lament and waile, +The sad exploites of fearefull tragedies, +It glads me so, that it delightes my heart, +To ad new tormentes to their bleeding smartes. + + _Enter Avarice_. + +But here comes _Avarice_, as if he sought, +Some busie worke for his pernicious thought: +Whether so fast, all-griping _Avarice_? + +_Ava_. Why, what carst thou? I seeke for one I misse. + +_Ho_. I may supplie the man you wish to have. + +_Ava_. Thou seemes to be a bold audatious knave; +I doe not like intruding companie, +That seeke to undermine my secrecie. + +_Ho_. Mistrust me not; I am thy faithfull friend. + +_Ava_. Many say so, that prove false in the end. + +_Ho_. But turne about and thou wilt know my face. + +_Ava_. It may be so, and know thy want of grace. +What! _Homicide_? thou art the man I seeke: +I reconcile me thus upon thy cheeke. [_Kisse, imbrace_. +Hadst thou nam'd blood and damn'd iniquitie, +I had forborne to bight so bitterlie. + +_Hom_. Knowst thou a hart wide open to receive, +A plot of horred desolation? +Tell me of this, thou art my cheefest good, +And I will quaffe thy health in bowles of blood. + +_Ava_. I know two men, that seem two innocents, +Whose lookes, surveied with iuditiall eyes, +Would seeme to beare the markes of honestie; +But snakes finde harbour mongst the fairest flowers, +Then never credit outward semblaunces. + + _Enter[4] Trueth_. + +I know their harts relentlesse, mercilesse, +And will performe through hope of benefit: +More dreadfull things then can be thought upon. + +_Hom_. If gaine will draw, I prethy then allure +Their hungrie harts with hope of recompence, +But tye dispaire unto those mooving hopes, +Unleast a deed of murther farther it, +Then blood on blood, shall overtake them all, +And we will make a bloodie feastivall. + +_Cove_. The plots are laide, the keyes of golden coine, +Hath op'd the secret closets of their harts. +Inter [_sic_], insult, make captive at thy will, +Themselves, and friends, with deedes of damned ill: +Yonder is _Truth_, she commeth to bewaile, +The times and parties that we worke upon. + +_Hom_. Why, let her weepe, lament and morne for me, +We are right bred of damn'd iniquitie, +And will go make a two-folde Tragedie. + [_Exeunt_. + +_Truth_. Goe you disturbers of a quiet soule, +Sad, greedy, gaping, hungrie _Canibals_, +That ioy to practise others miseries. +Gentles, prepare your teare-bedecked eyes, +To see two shewes of lamentation, +Besprinckled every where with guiltlesse blood, +Of harmlesse youth, and pretie innocents. +Our Stage doth weare habilliments of woe, +_Truth_ rues to tell the truth of these laments: +The one was done in famous London late, +Within that streete whose side the River Thames +Doth strive to wash from all impuritie: +But yet that silver stream can never wash, +The sad remembrance of that cursed deede, +Perform'd by cruell _Merry_ on iust _Beech_, +And his true boye poore _Thomas Winchester_. +The most here present, know this to be true: +Would _Truth_ were false, so this were but a tale! +The other further off, but yet too neere, +To those that felt and did the crueltie: +Neere _Padua_ this wicked deed was done, +By a false Uncle, on his brothers sonne, +Left to his carefull education +By dying Parents, with as strict a charge +As ever yet death-breathing brother gave. +Looke for no mirth, unlesse you take delight, +In mangled bodies, and in gaping wounds, +Bloodily made by mercy-wanting hands. +Truth will not faine, but yet doth grieve to showe, +This deed of ruthe and miserable woe. + + [_Exit_. + + + +[ACT THE FIRST.] + +[SCENE I.] + + + _Enter Merry_. + +I live in meane and discontented state, +But wherefore should I think of discontent? +I am belov'd, I have a pretty house, +A loving sister, and a carefull man, +That doe not thinke their dayes worke well at end, +Except it bring me in some benefit: +And well frequented is my little house +With many guestes and honest passengers, + + _Enter Beech and a friend_. + +Which may in time advance my humble state +To greater wealth and reputation. +And here comes friends to drinke some beare or ale; [_Sit in his Shop_. +They are my neighbours, they shall have the best. + +_Ne_. Come neighbour _Beech_, lets have our mornings draught +And wele go drinke it at yong _Merries_ house: +They say he hath the best in all this towne, +Besides they say he is an honest man, +And keepes good rule and orders in his house. + +_Beech_. He's so indeede; his conversation +Is full of honest harmlesse curtesie: +I dare presume, if that he be within, +Hele serve us well, and keepe us company. +See where he is, go in, ile follow you; [_Strive curtesies_. +Nay straine no curtesie, you shall goe before. + +_Mer_. Your welcome, neighbour, you are welcome, sir; +I praie sit downe, your verie welcome both. + +_Beech_. We thanke you for it, and we thinke no lesse. +Now fill two cans of your ould strongest beare; +That make so manie loose their little wits, +And make indentures as they go along. + +_Mer_. Hoe, sister _Rachell_! + +_Rach_. I come presently, + + _Enter Rachell_. + +_Mer_. Goe draw these gentlemen two cans of beare. +Your negligence that cannot tend the shop, +Will make our customers forsake the house. +Wheres _Harry Williams_ that he staies not here? + +_Rach_. My selfe was busie dressing up the house: +As for your man he is not verie well, +But sitteth sleeping by the kitchen fier. + +_Mer_. If you are busie, get you up againe; [_Exit_. +Ile draw my neighbours then their drinke my selfe, +Ile warrant you as good as any mans,-- +And yet no better; many have the like. + [_Exit for Beare_. + +_Neigh_. This showes him for a plain and honest man, +That will not flatter with too many wordes; +Some shriltong'd fellowes would have cogd and faind, +Saying, ile draw the best in Christendome. + +_Beech_. Hees none of those, but beares an honest minde, +And shames to utter what he cannot prove. + + _Enter Merry_. + +But here he comes: is that the best you have? + +_Mer_. It is the best upon mine honest worde. + +_Beech_. Then drinke to us. + +_Mer_. I drinke unto you both. + +_Nei_. _Beech_. We pledge you both, and thanke you hartelie. + +_Beech_. Heres to you sir. + +_Neigh_. I thank you. + + [_Maister Beech drinkes; drinke Neighbour_. + +_Neigh_. Tis good indeed and I had rather drinke +Such beare as this as any _Gascoine_ Wine: +But tis our _English_ manner to affect +Strange things, and price them at a greater rate, +Then home-bred things of better consequence. + +_Mer_. Tis true indeede; if all were of your mind, +My poore estate would sooner be advanc'd, +And our French Marchants seeke some other trade. + +_Beech_. Your poore estate! nay, neighbour, say not so, +For God be thanked you are well to live. + +_Mer_. Not so good neighbour, but a poore young man, +That would live better if I had the meanes: +But as I am I can content myselfe, +Till God amend my poore abilitie. + +_Neigh_. In time no doubt; why, man, you are but young, +And God, assure your selfe, hath wealth in store, +If you awaight his will with patience. + +_Beech_. Thankes be to God I live contentedlie, +And yet I cannot boast of mightie wealth: +But yet Gods blessings have beene infinit, +And farre beyond my expectations. +My shop is stor'd, I am not much in debt; +And here I speake it where I may be bold, +I have a score of poundes to helpe my neede, +If God should stretch his hand to visit me +With sicknesse or such like adversity. + +_Neigh_. Enough for this; now, neighbour, whats to pay? + +_Mer_. Two pence, good sir. + +_Beech_. Nay, pray, sir, forbeare; +Ile pay this reckoning, for it is but small. + +_Neigh_. I will not strive since yee will have it so. + +_Beech_. Neighbour, farewell. + + [_Exit Beech and Neigh_. + +_Mer_. Farewell unto you both. +His shop is stor'd, he is not much in debt, +He hath a score of poundes to helpe his neede: +I and a score too if the trueth were known. +I would I had a shop so stor'd with wares, +And fortie poundes to buy a bargain with, +When as occasion should be offered me; +Ide live as merrie as the wealthiest man +That hath his being within London walles. +I cannot buy my beare, my bread, my meate, +My fagots, coales, and such like necessaries, +At the best hand, because I want the coine, +That manie misers cofer up in bagges, +Having enough to serve their turnes besides. +Ah for a tricke to make this _Beeches_ trash +Forsake his cofer and to rest in mine! +I, marrie, sir, how may that tricke be done? +Marrie, with ease and great facilitie. +I will invent some new-found stratagem, +To bring his coyne to my possession. +What though his death relieve my povertie? +Gaine waites on courage, losse on cowardice. + + [_Exit_. + + + +[SCENE II.] + + + _Enter Pandino and Armenia sicke on a bed, Pertillo + their Sonne, Falleria his Brother, Sostrato his Wife, + Alinso their Sonne, and a Scrivener with a Will, &c_. + +_Pan_. Brother and sister, pray you both drawe neere, +And heere my will which you have promised +Shall be performde with wished providence. +This little Orphant I must leave behinde, +By your direction to be governed. +As for my wife and I, we do awaite +The blessed houre when it shall please the Lord, +To take us to the iust _Ierusalem_. +Our chiefest care is for that tender boye, +Which we should leave discomfortlesse behinde, +But that we do assure us of your love +And care to guide his weake unhable youth +In pathes of knowledge, grace, and godlinesse. +As for the riches of this mortall life, +We leave enough; foure hundreth pounds a yeare, +Besides two thousand pounds to make a stocke, +In money, iewels, plate, and houshold stuffe,-- +Which yearly rents and goods we leave to you, +To be surrendered into his hands, +When he attaines to yeeres of discreation. +My Will imports thus much, which you shall heare; +And you shall be my sole Executor. + +_Fall_. Brother and sister, how my hart laments +To see your weake and sicke afflicted limmes +Neere overcome with dyrefull malladies, +The God of heaven can truly testifie,-- +Which, to speake plaine, is nere a whit at all-- + [_To the people_. +Which knowes the secret corners of my heart; +But for the care you do impose on me, +For the tuition of your little sonne, +Thinke, my kinde brother, I will meditate, +Both day and night, how I may best fulfill, +The care and trust, reposed in your Will,-- +And see him posted quickly after you. [_To the people_. + +_Arm_. Enough, kinde brother; we assure us so, +Else would we seeke another friend abroade, +To do our willes and dying Testament. +Nature and love will have a double care +To bring him up with carefull diligence, +As best beseemes one of such parentage. + +_Fall_. Assure your selfe, the safest course I can, +Shall be provided for your little sonne,-- +He shall be sent unto the King of Heaven. [_To the people_. + +_Sostr_. Feare not, good brother, and my loving sister, +But we will have as tender care of him +As if he were our owne ten thousand times: +God will be father of the fatherlesse, +And keepe him from all care and wretchednesse. + +_Allenso_. Unckle and Aunt take comfort, I will see +My little coozen have no injurie. + +_Pan_. _Ar_. We thanke you all, come let the Will be read, + +_Fall_.--If it were seald, I would you both were dead. + +_Scrive_. Then give attention, I will read the Will. + _Reade the Will. +In the name of God. Amen.--I, &c_. + +_Pan_. Thus, if my Sonne miscarry, my deare brother, +You and your sonne shall then enjoy the land +And all the goods which he should have possess'd. + +_Fall_. If he miscarry, brother! God forbid! +God blesse mine Nephew, that thine eyes may see +Thy childrens children with prosperity! +I had rather see the little urchin hang'd [_To the people_. +Then he should live and I forgoe the land. + +_Ar_. Thankes, gentle brother; husband seale the will. + +_Pand_. Give me a Pen and Inke first to subscribe; +I write so ill through very feeblenesse, +That I can scarcely know this hand for mine, +But that you all can witnesse that it is. + +_Scri_. Give me the seale: I pray, sir, take it of. +This you deliver for your latest will, +And do confirme it for your Testament? + +_Pand_. With all my hart; here, brother, keepe my Will, +And I referre me to the will of God, +Praying him deale as well with you and yours, +As you no doubt will deale with my poore child. +Come, my _Pertillo_, let me blesse thee, boy, +And lay my halfe-dead hand upon thy head. +God graunt those days that are cut off in me, +With ioy and peace may multiply in thee. +Be slowe to wrath, obey thy Unckle still, +Submit thy selfe unto Gods holy will, +In deede and word see thou be ever true; +So brother, childe, and kinsfolkes, all adue. [_He dyeth_. + +_Per_. Ah my deere Mother, is my father dead? + +_Ar_. I, my sweete boye, his soule to heaven is fled, +But I shall after him immediatly. +Then take my latest blessing ere I dye: +Come, let me kisse thy little tender lips, +Cold death hath tane possession of thy mother; +Let me imbrace thee in my dying armes, +And pray the Lord protect thee from al harmes. +Brother, I feare, this Child when I am gone, +Wil have great cause of griefe and hideous feare: +You will protect him, but I prophecie, +His share will be of woe and misery: +But mothers feares do make these cares arise; +Come, boye, and close thy mothers dying eyes. +Brother and sister, here [_sic_] the latest words, +That your dead sister leaves for memory: +If you deale ill with this distressed boye, +God will revenge poore orphants iniuries, +If you deale well, as I do hope you will, +God will defend both you and yours from ill. +Farewell, farewell, now let me breath my last, +Into his dearest mouth, that wanteth breath, +And as we lov'd in life imbrace in death. +Brother and sister this is all I pray, +Tender my boye when we are laide in clay. [_Dyeth_. + +_Allen_. Gods holy Angell guide your loving soules +Unto a place of endlesse happinesse. + +_Sostr_. Amen, Amen. Ah, what a care she had +Of her small Orphant! She did dying pray, +To love her Childe when she was laide in claye. + +_Scr_. Ah blame her not although she held it deare; +She left him yonge, the greater cause of feare. + +_Fall_. Knew she my mind, it would recall her life, [_To the people_. +And like a staring Commet she would moove +Our harts to think of desolation.-- +Scrivenor, have you certified the Will? + +_Scri_. I have. + +_Fall_. Then theres two Duckets for your paines. + +_Scri_. Thankes, gentle sir, and for this time farewell. + [_Exit_. + +_Sost_. Come pretty coozen, cozened by grim death +Of thy most carefull parents all too soone; +Weepe not, sweete boye, thou shalt have cause to say, +Thy Aunt was kinde, though parents lye in claye. + +_Pert_. But give me leave first to lament the losse, +Of my deere parents, nature bindeth me, +To waile the death of those that gave me life, +And if I live untill I be a man, +I will erect a sumptuous monument, +And leave remembrance to ensuing times +Of kind _Pandino_ and _Armenia_. + +_Allen_. That shall not neede; my father will erect +That sad memoriall of their timeles[5] death, +And at that tombe we will lament and say +Soft lye the bones of faire _Armenia_. + +_Fall_. Surcease,_ Allenso_; thats a booteless cost, +The Will imports no such iniunction: +I will not spend my little Nephewes wealth, +In such vaine toyes; they shall have funerall, +But with no stately ceremoniall pompe, +Thats good for nought but fooles to gase uppon. +Live thou in hope to have thine unckles land. + +_Allen_. His land! why, father, you have land enough, +And more by much then I do know to use: +I would his vertues would in me survive, +So should my Unckle seeme in me alive. +But to your will I doe submit my selfe; +Do what you please concerning funeralls. + +_Fall_. Come then, away, that we may take in hand, +To have possession of my brothers land, +His goods and all untill he come of age +To rule and governe such possessions.-- +That shalbe never, or ile misse my marke, +Till I surrender up my life to death: +And then my Sonne shalbe his fathers heire, +And mount aloft to honors happy chaire. + + [_Exeunt omnes_. + + + +[SCENE III.] + + + _Enter Merry, solus_. + +_Beech_ hath a score of pounds to helpe his neede, +And I may starve ere he will lend it me: +But in dispight ile have it ere I sleepe, +Although I send him to eternall rest. +But, shallow foole, thou talkst of mighty things, +And canst not compasse what thou dost conceive. +Stay, let me see, ile fetch him to my house, +And in my garret quickly murther him: +The night conceales all in her pitchie cloake, +And none can open what I meane to hide. +But then his boy will say I fetcht him foorth: +I am resolv'd he shall be murthered to [_sic_]; +This toole shall write, subscribe, and seale their death +And send them safely to another world. +But then my sister, and my man at home, +Will not conceale it when the deede is done. +Tush, one for love, the other for reward, +Will never tell the world my close intent. +My conscience saith it is a damned deede +To traine one foorth, and slay him privily. +Peace, conscience, peace, thou art too scripulous [_sic_]; +Gaine doth attend[6] this resolution. +Hence, dastard feare! I must, I can, I will, +Kill my best friend to get a bag of gold. +They shall dye both, had they a thousand lives; +And therefore I will place this hammer here, +And take it as I follow _Beech_ up staires, +That suddenlie, before he is aware, +I may with blowes dash out his hatefull braines.-- +Hoe, _Rachell_, bring my cloake; look to the house, +I will returne againe immediately. + +_Rach_. Here it is brother, I pray you stay not long; +Guesse[7] will come in, 'tis almost supper time. + [_Ex. Ra_. + +_Mer_. Let others suppe, ile make a bloudier feast +Then ever yet was drest in _Merryes_ house. +Be like thy selfe then, have a merrie hart, +Thou shalt have gold to mend thy povertie, +And after this live ever wealthilie. + + _Then Merry must passe to Beeches shoppe, + who must sit in his shop, and Winchester + his boy stand by: Beech reading_. + +What, neighbour _Beech_, so godly occupied? + +_Beech_. I, maister _Merry_; it were better reade, +Then meditate on idle fantasies. + +_Mer_. You speake the trueth; there is a friend or two +Of yours making merry in my house, +And would desire to have your company. + +_Beech_. Know you their names? + +_Mer_. No truely, nor the men. +I never stoode to question them of that, +But they desire your presence earnestlie. + +_Beech_. I pray you tell them that I cannot come, +Tis supper time, and many will resort +For ware at this time, above all other times; +Tis Friday night besides, and Bartholomew eve, +Therefore good neighbour make my just excuse. + +_Mer_. In trueth they told me that you should not stay, +Goe but to drinke, you may come quick againe,-- +But not and if my hand and hammer hold. [_(To the) people_. + +_Beech_. I am unwilling, but I do not care, +And if I go to see the Company. + +_Mer_. Come quickly then, they think we stay too long. + +_Beech_. Ile cut a peece of cheese to drink withall. + +_Mer_. I, take the farewell of your cutting knife, +Here is a hand shall helpe to cut your throate, +And give my selfe a fairing[8] from your chest.-- +What are you ready, will you goe along? + +_Beech_. I, now I am; boy, looke you tend the shoppe; +If any aske, come for me to the _Bull_. +I wonder who they are that aske for me. + +_Mer_. I know not that, you shall see presentlie. +Goe up those staires, your friends do stay above.-- +Here is that friend shall shake you by the head, +And make you stagger ere he speake to you. + + _Then being in the upper Rome Merry strickes + him in the head fifteene times_. + +Now you are safe, I would the boy were so; +But wherefore wish I, for he shall not live? +For if he doe, I shall not live myselfe. + + [_Merry wiped [sic] his face from blood_. + +Lets see what mony he hath in his purse. +Masse heres ten groates, heres something for my pains. +But I must be rewarded better yet. + + _Enter Rachell and Harry Williams_. + +_Wil_. Who was it, _Rachell_, that went up the staires? + +_Rach_. It was my brother, and a little man +Of black complexion, but I know him not. + +_Wil_. Why do you not then carry up a light, +But suffer them to tarry in the darke? + +_Rach_. I had forgot, but I will beare one up. [_Exit up_. + +_Wil_. Do so, I prethee; he will chide anon. [_Exit_. + + [_Rachell speaketh to her Brother_. + +_Rach_. Oh brother, brother, what have you done? + +_Mer_. Why, murtherd one that would have murtherd me. + +_Rach_. We are undone, brother, we are undone. +What shall I say, for we are quite undone? + +_Mer_. Quiet thy selfe, sister; all shalbe well. +But see in any case you do not tell, +This deede to _Williams_ nor to any one. + +_Rach_. No, no, I will not; was't not maister _Beech_? + +_Mer_. It was, it is, and I will kill his man, [_Exit Rach_. +Or in attempting doe the best I can. + + _Enter Williams and Rachell_. + +_Wil_. What was the matter that you cride so lowde? + +_Rach_. I must not tell you, but we are undone. + +_Wil_. You must not tell me, but we are undone! +Ile know the cause wherefore we are undone. [_Exit up_. + +_Rach_. Oh would the thing were but to doe againe! +The thought thereof doth rent my hart in twaine. [_She goes up_. + + _Williams to Merry above_. + +_Wil_. Oh maister, maister, what have you done? + +_Mer_. Why slaine a knave that would have murtherd me; +Better to kill, then to be kild my selfe. + +_Wil_. With what? wherewith? how have you slaine the man? + +_Mer_. Why, with this hammer I knockt out his braines. + +_Wil_. Oh it was beastly so to butcher him. +If any quarrell were twixt him and you, +You should have bad him meete you in the field, +Not like a coward under your owne roofe +To knock him downe as he had bin an oxe, +Or silly sheepe prepard for slaughter house. +The Lord is just, and will revenge his blood, +On you and yours for this extremitie. +I will not stay an hower within your house, +It is the wickedst deed that ere was done. + +_Mer_. Oh, sir, content your selfe, all shall be well; +Whats done already cannot be undone. + +_Rach_. Oh would to God, the deed were now to do, +And I were privie to your ill intent, +You should not do it then for all the world. +But prethie, _Harry_, do not leave the house, +For then suspition will arise thereof, +And 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. +I tell you plaine, I would not have him dye, +Might I enjoy the _Soldans_ Emperie. + +_Fall_. What, wilt thou barre thy selfe of happinesse? +Stop the large streame of pleasures which would flowe, +And still attend on thee like Servingmen? +Preferre the life of him that loves thee not +Before thine owne and my felicitie? + +_Allen_. Ide rather choose to feede on carefulnesse, +To ditche, to delve, and labour for my bread, +Nay rather choose to begge from doore to doore, +Then condiscend to offer violence +To young _Pertillo_ in his innocence. +I know you speake, to sound what mightie share +_Pertillo_ hath in my affection. + +_Fall_. In faith I do not; therefore, prethie, say, +Wilt thou consent to have him made away? + +_Allen_. Why, then in faithe I am ashamde to think, +I had my being from so foule a lumpe +Of adulation and unthankfulnesse. +Ah, had their dying praiers no availe +Within your hart? no, damnd extorcion +Hath left no roome for grace to harbor in! +Audacious sinne, how canst thou make him say +Consent to make my brothers sonne away? + +_Fall_. Nay if you ginne to brawle, withdrawe your selfe, +But utter not the motion[10] that I made, +As you love me, or do regarde your life. + +_Allen_. And as you love my safetie and your soule, +Let grace and feare of God, such thoughts controule. + +_Fall_. Still pratling! let your grace and feare alone, +And leave me quickly to my private thoughts, +Or with my sword ile open wide a gate, +For wrath and bloudie death to enter in. + +_Allen_. Better you gave me death and buriall, +Then such foule deeds should overthrow us all. + +_Fall_. Still are you wagging that rebellious tounge! +Ile dig it out for Crowes to feede upon, +If thou continue longer in my sight. [_Exit Allenso_. +He loves him better then he loves his life! +Heres repetition of my brothers care, +Of sisters chardge, of grace, and feare of God. +Feare dastards, cowards, faint hart runawayes! +Ile feare no coulours[11] to obteine my will, +Though all the fiends in hell were opposite. +Ide rather loose mine eye, my hand, my foote, +Be blinde, wante senses, and be ever lame, +Then be tormented with such discontent +This resignation would afflict me with. +Be blithe, my boy, thy life shall sure be done, +Before the setting of the morrowe sunne. + [_Exit_. + + _Enter Avarice and Homicide bloody_. + +_Hom_. Make hast, runne headlong to destruction! +I like thy temper that canst change a heart +From yeelding flesh to Flinte and Adamant. +Thou hitst it home, where thou doost fasten holde; +Nothing can separate the love of golde. + +_Ava_. Feare no relenting, I dare pawne my soule, +(And thats no gadge, it is the divels due) +He shall imbrew his greedie griping hands +In the dead bosome of the bloodie boy, +And winde himselfe, his sonne, and harmlesse wife, +In endlesse foldes of sure destruction. +Now, _Homicide_, thy lookes are like thyselfe, +For blood and death are thy companions. +Let my confounding plots but goe before, +And thou shalt wade up to the chin in gore. + +_Homi_. I finde it true, for where thou art let in, +There is no scruple made of any sinne; +The world may see thou art the roote of ill, +For but for thee poore _Beech_ had lived still. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + + +[ACT THE SECOND.] + +[SCENE I.] + + + _Enter Rachell and Merry_. + +_Rach_. Oh my deare brother, what a heap of woe, +Your rashnesse hath powrd downe upon your head! +Where shall we hide this trumpet of your shame, +This timelesse ougly map of crueltie? +Brother, if _Williams_ do reveale the truth, +Then brother, then, begins our sceane of ruthe. + +_Mer_. I feare not _Williams_, but I feare the boy, +Who knew I fetcht his maister to my house. + +_Rach_. What, doth the boy know whereabouts you dwell? + +_Mer_. I, that tormentes me worse than panges of hell:-- +He must be slaine to, else hele utter all. + +_Rach_. Harke, brother, harke, me thinkes I here on[12] call. + +_Mer_. Go downe and see; pray God my man keep close; +If he prove long-tongd then my daies are done. +The boy must die, there is no helpe at all; +For on his life my verie life dependes. +Besides I cannot compasse what I would, +Unlesse the boy be quicklie made away. +This that abridgde his haplesse maisters daies, +Shall leave such sound memorials one [_sic_] his head, +That he shall quite forget who did him harme, +Or train'd his master to this bloodie feast.-- +Why, how now, _Rachell_? who did call below? + + _Enter Rachell_. + +_Rach_. A maide that came to have a pennie loafe. + +_Mer_. I would a pennie loafe cost me a pound, +Provided _Beeches_ boy had eate his last. + +_Rach_. Perchance the boy doth not remember you. + +_Mer_. It may be so,--but ile remember him. [_To people_. +And send him quicklie with a bloodie scrowle, +To greete his maister in another world. + +_Rach_. Ile go to _Beeches_ on a faind excuse, +To see if he will ask me for his maister. + +_Mer_. No, get you up, you shall not stir abroade, +And when I call, come quicklie to the dore. + +_Rach_. Brother, or that, or any thing beside, +To please your mind, or ease your miserie. [_Exit_. + +_Mer_. I am knee-deepe, ile wade up to the wast, +To end my hart of feare, and to atteine +The hoped end of my intention. +But I maie see, if I have eyes to see, +And if my understanding be not blind, +How manie dangers do alreadie waight, +Upon my steppes of bold securitie. +_Williams_ is fled, perchaunce to utter all; +Thats but perchance, naie rather flatlie no. +But should he tell, I can but die a death; +Should he conceale, the boy would utter it; +The boy must die, there is no remedie. + + [_The boy sitting at his maisters dore_. + +_Win_. I wonder that my maister staies so long; +He had not wont to be abroade so late. +Yonder comes one; I thinke that same is he. + +_Mer_. I see the boye sits at his maisters doore. +Or now, or never; _Merry_, stir thy selfe, +And rid thy hart from feare and jealousie.-- +_Thomas Winchester_, go quicklie to your shoppe: +What, sit you still? your maister is at hand. + + [_When the boy goeth into the shoppe Merrie striketh six blowes + on his head & with the seaventh leaves the hammer sticking in his + head; the boy groaning must be heard by a maide who must crye to + her Maister. + [Merrie flieth_. + +_Mai_. Oh God I thinke theres theeves in _Beeches_ shop. + + _Enter one in his shirt and a maide, and comming to Beeches shop + findes the boy murthered_. + +_Nei_. What cruell hand hath done so foule a deede, +Thus to bemangle a distressed youth +Without all pittie or a due remorse! +See how the hammer sticketh in his head, +Wherewith this honest youth is done to death! +Speak, honest _Thomas_, if any speach remaine: +What cruell hand hath done this villanie? +He cannot speake, his senses are bereft. +Hoe, neighbour _Loney_! pray come downe with speede, +Your tennant _Beeches_ man is murthered. + +_Loney sleeping_. What, would you have some mustard? + +_Nei_. Your tennant _Beeches_ man, is murthered. + +_Lo_. Whose smothered, I thinke you lack your wit +What, neighbor? what make[13] you here so late? [_Out at a window_. + +_Nei_. I was affrighted by a sodaine crie, +And comming downe saw maister _Beeches_ man, +Thus with a hammer sticking in his head. [_Comes to win_. + +_Loney_. Ah wo is me for _Thomas Winchester_, +The truest soule that ever maister had! +Wheres maister _Beech_? + +_Neigh_. Nay, no body can tell: +Did you see any running from the dore, +When you lookt out and heard the youngman crie? + +_Maid_. Yes I saw two trulie to my thinking, but they ranne away as fast +as their hands could beare them.--By my troth twas so darke I could see +no bodie.--[_To people_. Praie God Maister _Beech_ hath not hurt his boy +in his patience and if he have he must be hangd in his choller. + +_Lo_. I dare be sworne he would not strike him thus, +Praie God his Maister be not slaine himselfe. +The night growes late, and we will have this course +Be watch'd all night; to morrow we shall see +Whence sprang this strange uncivill crueltie. + +_Nei_. Neighbour good night. + +_Lon_. Neighbors all good night. + +_Ma_. Praie God I never see so sad a sight. + + [_Exeunt omnes_. + + _Enter Merry knocking at the doore, and Rachell comes downe_. + +_Mer_. Oh sister, sister, now I am pursu'd! +The mightie clamour that the boy did make, +Hath raisde the neighbours round about the street: +So that I know not where to hide my selfe. + +_Ra_. What, brother! have you kild _Beeches_ boy? + +_Mer_. No, no, not I, but yet another hath. +Come, come to bed, for feare we be descri'd: +The fearfullest night that ever _Merry_ knew! + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +[SCENE II.] + + + _Enter Falleria and two Ruffaines_. + +_Fall_. Seeme it not strange, resolved gentlemen,[14] +That I thus privatelie have severed you, +To open secret furrowes of my hart. +Think not I do intend to undermine, +Your passed lives, although you know I am +A man to whom the true unpartiall sworde, +Of equall justice is delivered. +Therefore sweare both, as you respect your soules, +At the last dreadfull sessions held in heaven, +First to conceale, and next to execute, +What I reveale, and shall enioyne you to. + +_Both_. So you rewarde us, whatsoever it be, +We vowe performance, and true secrecie. + +_Fall_. There go aside, yee seeming semblances, +Of equall justice, and true pietie, +And lay my hearts corrupted Cytadell +Wide open to your thoughts to look into. +Know I am named _Fallerio_ to deceive +The world with shew of truth and honestie, +But yet nor truth, nor honestie abides +Within my thoughts, but falshood, crueltie, +Blood-sucking _Avarice_, and all the sinnes, +That hale men on to bloodie stratagems, +Like to your selves, which care not how you gaine, +By blood, extorcion, falshood, periurie, +So you may have a pleasing recompence: [_They start_. +Start not aside, depart not from your selves, +I know your composition is as mine, +Of bloud, extortion, falshood, periurie, +True-branded with the marke of wickednesse. + +1 _Ruffin_. Be not so bitter; we are they indeede, +That would deprive our fathers of their lives, +So we were sure to have a benefit: +I way no more the murthring of a child, +Drag'd from the sucking bosome of his mother, +Then I respect to quaffe a boule of wine, +Unto his health, that dearely loveth me. + +2 _Ruff_. Where golde rewardeth, were apparent death, +Before mine eyes, bolde, hartie, visible, +Ide wrastle with him for a deadly fall, +Or I would loose my guerdon promised. +Ide hang my brother for to wear his coate, +That all that saw me might have cause to say, +There is a hart more firme then Adamant, +To practise execrable butcheries. + +_Fall_. I know that well, for were I not assur'd +Of your performance in this enterprice, +I would not ope the closet of my brest, +To let you know my close intention. +There is a little boy, an urchin lad, +That stands betweene me and the glorious rayes, +Of my soule-wishing sunne of happinesse. +There is a thicket ten miles from this place, +Whose secret ambush and unused wayes +Doth seeme to ioyne with our conspiracie: +There murther him, and when the deed is done, +Cast his dead body in some durtie ditch, +And leave him for the fowles to feed upon. +Do this, here is two hundreth markes in golde, +To harten on your resolution: +Two hundreth more, after the deed is done, +Ile pay you more for satisfaction. + +1 _Ruff_. Swones her's rewards would make one kill himselfe, +To leave his progenie so rich a prize! +Were twentie lives engadged for this coine, +Ide end them all, to have the money mine. + +2 _Ruff_. Who would not hazard life nay soule and all, +For such a franke and bounteous pay-maister? +Sblood! what labor is't to kill a boy? +It is but thus, and then the taske is done. +It grieves me most, that when this taske is past, +I have no more to occupie my selfe. +Two hundred markes to give a paltrie stab! +I am impatient till I see the brat. + +_Fall_. That must be done with cunning secrecie, +I have devisde to send the boye abroade, +With this excuse, to have him fostered, +In better manners than this place affoords. +My wife, though loath indeed to part with him, +Yet for his good, she will forgoe her joy, +With hope in time to have more firme delights, +Which she expects from young _Pertillos_ life. + +2 _Ruff_. Call you him _Pertillo_, faith leave out the _T_. + +_Fall_. Why so? + +_Ruff_. Because _Perillo_ will remaine, +For he shall surely perish if I live. +What do you call the father of the child? + +_Fall_. Why man, he hath no father left alive. + +1 _Ruff_.--Yes, such a father, that doth see and know, +How we do plot this little infants woe. [_To the people_. + +2 _Ruff_. Why, then his little sonne is much to blame, +That doth not keepe his father company. +When shall we have deliverie of the boy? + +_Fall_. To morrow morning by the breake of day: +And you must sweare youle see him safely brought, +Unto the place that I do send him to. + +2 _Ruff_. That may we safely, for you meane to send +Him to the wood and there his journey end.[15] +Both soule and limbes shall have a place to rest, +In earth the last, the first in _Abrams_ brest. + +_Fall_. Come gentlemen, this night go rest with me, +To morrow end _Pertillos_ tragedie. + + [_Exeunt omnes_. + + + +[SCENE III.] + + + _Enter Merry and Rachell_. + +_Mer_. Sister, now all my golde-expected hopes +Of future good is plainely vanished, +And in her stead grim-visadged dispaire, +Hath tane possession of my guiltie heart. +Desire to gaine began this desperate acte; +Now plaine apparance of destruction, +Of soule and body, waights upon my sinne. +Although we hide our sinnes from mortall men, +Whose glasse of knowledge is the face of man, +The eye of heaven beholdes our wickednesse, +And will no doubt revenge the innocent, + +_Rach_. Ah, do not so disconsolate your selfe, +Nor adde new streames of sorrow to your griefe, +Which like a spring tide over-swels the bankes, +Least you do make an inundation +And so be borne away with swiftest tides +Of ugly feare and strong dispairing thoughts. +I am your sister; though a silly Maide, +Ile be your true and faithfull comforter. + +_Mer_. _Rachell_, I see thy love is infinite, +And sorrow hath so borne my thoughts away, +That I had almost quite forgot my selfe. +Helpe me, deare sister, to convey from hence +The spectacle of inhumanitie. + +_Rach_. Whether would you convey this lumpe of dust +Untimely murthered by your lucklesse hand? + +_Mer_. To the lowe roome, where we will cover it, +With Fagots, till the evening doe approche: +In the meane time I will bethinke my selfe, +How I may best convey it foorth of doores; +For if we keepe it longer in the house, +The savour will be felt throughout the streete, +Which will betray us to destruction. +Oh what a horror brings this beastlinesse, +This chiefe of sinnes, this self-accusing crime +Of murther! now I shame to know my selfe, +That am estrang'd so much from that I was, +True, harmlesse, honest, full of curtesie, +Now false, deceitfull, full of injurie. +Hould thou his heeles, ile bear his wounded head: +Would he did live, so I myself were dead! + + [_Bring down the body, and cover it over with Faggots himselfe_. + +_Rach_. Those little stickes, do hide the murthred course, +But stickes, nor ought besides, can hide the sinne. +He sits on high, whose quick all-seeing eye, +Cannot be blinded by mans subtilties. + +_Mer_. Look every where, can you discerne him now? + +_Rach_. Not with mine eye, but with my heart I can. + +_Mer_. That is because thou knowest I laide him there: +To guiltinesse each thought begetteth feare. +But go, my true, though wofull comforter, +Wipe up the blood in every place above, +So that no drop be found about the house: +I know all houses will be searcht anon. +Then burne the clothes, with which you wipe the ground +That no apparant signe of blood be found. + +_Rach_. I will, I will; oh, would to God I could +As cleerely wash your conscience from the deed +As I can cleanse the house from least suspect +Of murthrous deed, and beastly crueltie! + +_Mer_. Cease to wish vainely, let us seeke to save +Our names, our fames, our lives and all we have. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +[SCENE IV.] + + + _Enter three or foure neighbours together_. + +1 _Neigh_. Neighbours, tis bruted all about the towne +That _Robert Beech_, a honest Chaundelor, +Had his man deadly wounded yester night, +At twelve a clock, when all men were a sleepe. + +2. Where was his maister, when the deed was done? + +3. No man can tell, for he is missing to, +Some men suspect that he hath done the fact, +And that for feare the man is fled away; +Others, that knew his honest harmlesse life, +Feare that himselfe is likewise made away. + +4. Then let commaundement every where be given, +That sinkes and gutters, privies, crevises, +And every place where blood may be conceald, +Be throughly searcht, swept, washt, and neerely sought, +To see if we can finde the murther out. +And least that _Beech_ be throwne into the _Thames_, +Let charge be given unto the watermen +That, if they see the body of a man, +Floting in any place about the _Thames_, +That straight they bring it unto _Lambert Hill_, +Where _Beech_ did dwell when he did live in health. + +1 _Neigh_. Ile see this charge performd immediatly. + +4. Now let us go to Maister _Beeches_ shop, [_Exit_. +To see if that the boy can give us light, +Of those suspitions which this cause doth yeeld. + +2. This is the house; call Maister _Loney_ forth. + +3. Hoe, Maister _Loney_! doth the boy yet live? + + _Enter Loney_. + +Or can he utter who hath done him wrong. + +_Lo_. He is not dead but hath a dying life, +For neither speech, nor any sense at all, +Abideth in the poore unhappie youth. + +4. Here [_sic_] you of anie where his Maister is? + +_Lo_. No, would we could; we all, that knew his life, +Suspect him not for any such offence. + +4. Bring forth the boy, that we may see his wounds. + + [_Bringes him forth in a chaire with a hammer sticking + in his head_. + +What say the Surgeons to the youngmans woundes? + +_Lo_. They give him over, saying everie wound, +Of sixe, whereof theres seav'n in his head, +Are mortall woundes and all incurable. + + [_They survey his woundes_. + + _Enter Merrie and Williams_. + +_Mer_. How now, good _Harry_, hast thou hid my fault? +The boy that knew I train'd his Maister forth, +Lies speechlesse, and even at the point of death. +If you prove true, I hope to scape the brunt. + +_Will_. Whie, feare not me, I have conceal'd it yet, +And will conceale it, have no doubt of me. + +_Mer_. Thanks, gentle _Harry_, thou shalt never lacke; +But thou and I will live as faithfull friendes, +And what I have, shalbe thine owne to use. +There is some monie for to spend to-day, +I know you meane to goe and see the faire. + +_Will_. I faine would go, but that I want a cloake. + +_Mer_. Thou shalt not want a cloake, or ought beside, +So thou wilt promise to be secret. [_Gives him his cloake_. +Here, take my Cloake, ile weare my best my selfe. +But where did you lie this last night? + +_Wil_. At the _three Cranes_, in a Carmans hay loft, +But ile have better lodging soone at night. + +_Mer_. Thou wilt be secret. I will go and see, [_Exit Willi_. +What stir they keepe about _Beeches_ shop, +Because I would avoyde suspition. [_Go to them_. +God save you, Gentlemen! is this the boy +That is reported to be murthered? + +4. He is not dead outright, but pleas'd it God, +Twere better he had left this wicked world, +Then to live thus in this extremitie. + +_Mer_. A cruell hand no doubt that did the deede. +Whie pull you not the hammer from his head? + +4. That must not be before the youth be dead, +Because the crowner and his quest may see, +The manner how he did receive his death. +Beare hence the bodie, and endevor all, +To finde them out that did the villanie. + + [_Exeunt omnes: manet Merrie_. + +_Mer_. Do what you can, cast all your wits about, +Rake kennells, gutters, seeke in everie place, +Yet I will overgoe your cunning heads, +If _Williams_ and my sister hold their tongues. +My neighbours holdes not me in least suspect, +Weighing of my former conversation. +Were _Beeches_ boy well conveid awaie, +Ide hope to overblow this stormie day. + + [_Exit_. + + + +[SCENE V.] + + + _Enter Falleria, Sostrata, Allenso, Pertillo, + and two Murtherers booted_. + +_Fall_. Now little cooze, you are content to goe, +From me your Unckle and your loving Aunt, +Your faithfull cozen, and your dearest friendes: +And all to come to be a skilfull man, +In learned artes and happy sciences? + +_Per_, I am content, because it pleaseth you. +My father bid I should obey your will, +And yeelde my selfe to your discretion: +Besides my cozen gave me yesternight, +A prettie nag to ride to _Padua_. +Of all my friends _Allenso_ loves me best. + +_Fall_. I thinke thou art inspir'd with prophesie: [_To the people_. +He loves thee better then I would he did.-- +Why, wherefore think you so, my prettie Nephew? + +_Per_. Because he taught me how to say my prayers, +To ride a horse, to start the fearfull hare. +He gave this dagger to me yester night, +This little Ring, and many pretie things; +For which, kind cooze, I rest your true debtor, +And one day I will make you recompence. + +_Fall_. I, with thy lands and goods thou leav'st behinde. + +_Allen_. Pray, father, let me go along with him.-- +Now, by the Saviour of my sinfull soule, [_To the people_. +I do not like those fellowes countenance. + +_Fall_. Sonne be content, weele go a seavenight hence, +And see him in his universitie weedes. +These will conduct him safely to the place; +Be well assured they'l have a care of him-- +That you shall never see _Pertillo_ more. [_To the people_. + +_Allen_. Father, I pray you to withdraw your selfe, +Ide have a word or two in secresie. + + [_They speake together_. + +_Sost_. Come living image of thy dead mother, +And take my loving farewell, ere we part. +I love thee dearly for thy fathers sake, +But for thy mothers dote with jealousie. +Oh I do feare, before I see thy face, +Or thou or I shall taste of bitternesse. +Kisse me, sweete boy, and, kissing, folde thine Aunte +Within the circle of thy little armes. +I neede not feare, death cannot offer wrong; +The majestie of thy presaging face, +Would vanquish him, though nere so terrible. +The angry Lionesse that is bereav'd +Of her imperious crew of forrest kings, +Would leave her furie, and defend thee safe +From Wolves, from Panthers, Leopards, and Shee Beares, +That live by rapine, stealth and crueltie. +Therefore to God I do commend thy state, +Who will be sure to guard thee tenderly. +And now to you, that carry hence this wealth, +This precious Jewell, this unprized good, +Have a regarde to use him carefully, +When he is parted from that serious care, +Which was imployde for his securitie. +I urge it not, that I misdoubt your truth; +I hope his Unckle doth perswade himselfe +You will be courteous, kinde, and affable. +Ther's some rewarde for hoped carefulnesse. + +_Allen_. Now by my soule I do suspect the men, +Especially the lower of the two: +See, what a hollow discontented looke +He casts, which brings apparant cause of feare: +The other, though he seeme more courteous, +Yet dooth his lookes presadge this thought in me. +As if he scorn'd to thinke on courtesie. + +_Fall_. Upon my life, my sonne you are to blame, +The gentlemen are honest, vertuous, +And will protect _Pertillo_ happily. +These thoughts proceed out of aboundant love, +Because you grieve to leave his company. +If ought betide him otherwise then well, +Let God require due vengaunce on my head, +And cut my hopes from all prosperitie. + +_Allen_. A heavie sentence, full of wondrous feare: +I cannot choose but credit such a vowe. +Come hether then, my joy, my chiefest hopes, +My second selfe, my earthly happinesse, +Lend me thy little prety cherry lip, +To kisse me, cozen; lay thy little hand +Upon my cheeke, and hug me tenderly. +Would the cleere rayes of thy two glorious sunnes +Could penetrate the corners of my heart, +That thou might see how much I tender thee. +My friends, beholde, within this little bulke +Two perfect bodyes are incorporate; +His life holdes mine, his heart conteines my hart, +His every lim containes my every part; +Without his being I can never be, +He being dead, prepare to bury me. +Oh thou immortall mover of the spheares +Within their circled revolusions, +Whose glorious image this small orphant beares, +Wrought by thy all-sufficient majestie, +Oh never suffer any wicked hand +To harme this heavenly workmanship of thine, +But let him live, great God, to honor thee +With vertuous life and spotlesse pietie! + +_Per_. Cease, my kind cooze; I cannot choose but weepe, +To see your care of my securitie. + +_Allen_.--Knewst thou my reason, that perswades my hart, +Thou wouldst not wonder, why I grieve to part: +But yet I would suspect my fathers vowe, +Did any other make it by your leave. + +_Fall_. What have you done? this lothnesse to depart, +Seemes you were trained up in tediousnesse, +Thou knowst not when and where to make an end. +Take him my friends, I know you will discharge +The hope and trust that I repose in you. + +_Both_. Assure your selfe, in every circumstance. + +_Fall_. Then to your horses quicklie, speedily, +Else we shall put our fingers in the eye, +And weepe for kindnesse till tomorrow morne. + +_Per_. Farewell good Unckle, Aunt, and loving cooze. + + [_Sostratus [sic] kisseth the boy weeping_. + +_Allen_. Farewell.--I fear me everlastinglie. + + [_Exeunt Sostratus and Allenso_. + + [_One of the Murtherers takes Falleria by the sleeve_. + +1 _mu_. You meane not now to have him murthered? + +_Fall_. Not murthered, what else? kill him, I say: +But wherefore makes thou question of my will? + +_Mur_. Because you wisht that God should be revenged, +If any ill betide the innocent. + +_Fall_. Oh that was nothing but to blind the eyes +Of my fond sonne, which loves him too too well. + +_Mer_. It is enough, it shall be surely done. + + [_Exeunt om_. + + + +[SCENE VI.] + + + _Enter Merry and Rachel with a bag_. + +_Mer_. What, hast thou sped? have you bought the bag? + +_Rach_. I, brother, here it is; what is't to do? + +_Mer_. To beare hence _Beeches_ body in the night. + +_Rach_. You cannot beare so great a waight your selfe, +And tis no trusting of another man. + +_Mer_. Yes well enough, as I will order it. +Ile cut him peece-meale; first his head and legs +Will be one burthen; then the mangled rest, +Will be another, which I will transport, +Beyond the water in a Ferryboate, +And throw it into _Paris-garden_ ditch,[16] +Fetch me the chopping knife, and in the meane +Ile move the fagots that do cover him. + [_Remove the Fagots_. + +_Rach_. Oh can you finde in hart to cut and carve, +His stone-colde flesh, and rob the greedy grave, +Of his dissevered blood-besprinkled lims? + +_Mer_. I, mary can I:--fetch the chopping knife. + +_Rach_. This deed is worse, then when you took his life. [_Exit_. + +_Mer_. But worse, or better, now it must be so, +Better do thus than feele a greater woe. + + _Enter Rach_. + +Here is the knife, I cannot stay to see +This barbarous deed of inhumanitie. [_Exit Rachel_. + + [_Merry begins to cut the body, and bindes the armes + behinde his back with Beeches garters; leaves out the + body, covers the head and legs againe_. + + _Enter Truth_. + +Yee glorious beames of that bright-shining lampe +That lights the starre-bespangled firmament, +And dimnes the glimmering shadowes of the night, +Why doost thou lend assistance to this wretch, +To shamble forth with bold audacitie +His lims, that beares thy makers semblance! +All you the sad spectators of this Acte, +Whose harts do taste a feeling pensivenesse +Of this unheard of, savadge massacre, +Oh be farre of to harbour such a thought +As this audacious murtherer put in ure![17] +I see your sorrowes flowe up to the brim, +And overflowe your cheekes with brinish teares, +But though this sight bring surfet to the eye, +Delight your eares with pleasing harmonie,[18] +That eares may counterchecke your eyes, and say, +Why shed you teares, this deede is but a playe? +His worke is done, he seekes to hide his sinne; +Ile waile his woe before his woe begin. [_Exit Trueth_. + +_Mer_. Now will I high me to the water side, +And fling this heavie burthen in a ditche, +Whereof my soule doth feele so great a waight +That it doth almost presse me downe with feare. + + + + +[ACT THE THIRD.] + +[SCENE I.] + + + _Enter Rachell_. + +Harke, _Rachell_, I will crosse the water straight +And fling this middle mention of a man +Into some ditch; then high me home againe, +To rid my house of that is left behinde. + +_Rach_. Where have you laid the legs & battered head? + +_Mer_. Under the fagots where it lay before. +Helpe me to put this trunk into the bag. + +_Rach_. My heart will not endure to handle it, +The sight hereof doth make me quake for feare, + +_Mer_. Ile do't my selfe; onely drie up the blood, +And burne the clothes as you have done before. [_Exit_. + +_Rach_. I feare thy soule will burne in flames of hell, +Unless repentance wash wash away thy sinne +With clensing teares of true contrition. +Ah, did not nature oversway my will, +The world should know this plot of damned ill. + + [_Exit_. + + + +[SCENE II.] + + + _Enter two Murtherers with Pertillo_. + +_Per_. I am so wearie in this combrous wood, +That I must needes go sit me downe and rest. + +1 _Mur_. What were we best? to kill him unawares, +Or give him notice what we doe intend? + +2 _Mur_. Whie then belike you meane to do your charge, +And feel no tast of pittie in your hart. + +1 _Mur_. Of pittie, man! that never enters heere, +And if it should, Ide threat my craven heart +To stab it home for harbouring such a thought. +I see no reason whie I should relent; +It is a charitable vertuous deede, +To end this princkocke[19] from this sinfull world. + +2 _Mur_. Such charitie will never have reward, +Unlesse it be with sting of conscience; +And thats a torment worse than Sisipus, +That rowles a restlesse stone against the hill. + +1 _Mur_. My conscience is not prickt with such conceit. + +2 _Mur_. That shews thee further off from hoped grace. + +1 _Mur_. Grace me no graces, I respect no grace, +But with a grace, to give a gracelesse stab; +To chop folkes legges and armes off by the stumpes, +To see what shift theile make to scramble home; +Pick out mens eyes, and tell them thats the sport +Of hood-man-blinde, without all sportivenesse. +If with a grace I can perform such pranckes, +My hart will give mine agents many thankes. + +2 _Mur_. Then God forbid I should consort my selfe +With one so far from grace and pietie, +Least being found within thy companie, +I should be partner of thy punishment. + +1 _Mur_. When wee have done what we have vowed to do, +My hart desires to have no fellowship +With those that talk of grace or godlinesse. +I nam'd not God, unleast twere with an othe, +Sence the first hour that I could walk alone; +And you that make so much of conscience, +By heaven thou art a damned hipocrite, +For thou hast vow'd to kill that sleeping boy, +And all to gaine two hundreth markes in gold. +I know this purenesse comes of pure deceit, +To draw me from from the murthering of the child, +That you alone might have the benefit. +You are too shallow; if you gull me so, +Chop of my head to make a Sowsing-tub, +And fill it full of tripes and chitterlinges. + +2 _Mur_. That thou shalt see my hart is far from fraud, +Or vaine illusion in this enterprize, +Which doth import the safetie of our soules, +There take my earnest of impietie. [_Give him his mony_. +Onely forbeare to lay thy ruder handes +Upon the poore mistrustlesse tender child. +As for our vowes, feare not their violence; +God will forgive on hartie penitence. + +1 _Mur_. Thou Eunuch, Capon, Dastard, fast and loose, +Thou weathercocke of mutabilitie, +White-livered Paisant, wilt thou vowe and sweare, +Face and make semblance with thy bagpipe othes +Of that thou never meanst to execute? +Pure cowardice, for feare to cracke thy necke +With the huge Caos of thy bodies waight, +Hath sure begot this true contrition. +Then fast and pray, and see if thou canst winne, +A goodlie pardon for thy hainous sinne. +As for the boy, this fatall instrument +Was mark'd by heaven to cut his line[20] of life, +And must supplie the knife of _Atropos_, +And if it doe not, let this maister-piece +(Which nature lent the world to wonder at) +Be slit in Carbonadoes[21] for the jawes +Of some men-eating hungrie Canniball. +By heaven ile kill him onely for this cause, +For that he came of vertuous Auncestors. + +2 _m_. But by that God which made that wondrous globe, +Wherein is seene his powerfull dietie,[22] +Thou shalt not kill him maugre all thy spight. +Sweare, and forsweare thyselfe ten thousand times. +Awake _Pertillo_, for thou art betrai'd; +This bloody slave intends to murther thee. [_Draw both_. + +1 _mur_. Both him, and all, that dare to rescue him. + +_Per_. Wherefore? because I slept without your leave? +Forgive my fault, ile never sleepe againe. + +2 _Mur_. No Child, thy wicked Unckle hath suborn'd +Both him and me to take thy life away, +Which I would save, but that this hellish impe +Will not content to spare thy guiltlesse blood. + +_Per_. Why should _Falleria_ seeke to have my life? + +2 _mur_. The lands and goods, thy father left his sonne, +Do hale thee on to thy destruction. + +_Per_. Oh needy treasure, harme-begetting good! +That safety[23] should procure the losse of blood! + +2 _mur_. Those lands and goods, thy father got with paine, +Are swords wherewith his little sonne is slaine. + +1 _mu_. Then let our swords let out his guiltlesse life. + +_Per_. Sweete, sowre, kinde, cruell, hold thy murthering knife, +And here [_sic_] me speake, before you murther me. + +2 _mu_. Feare not, sweet child, he shall not murther thee. + +1 _mu_. No, but my sword shall let his puddings forth. + +_Per_. First here me speake, thou map of Butcherie: +Tis but my goods and lands my Unckle seekes; +Having that safely, he desires no more. +I do protest by my dead parents soules, +By the deare love of false _Fallerios_ sonne, +Whose heart, my heart assures me, will be griev'd +To heare his fathers inhumanitie, +I will forsake my countrie, goods, and lands, +I, and my selfe will even change my selfe, +In name, in life, in habit, and in all, +And live in some farre-moved continent, +So you will spare my weake and tender youth, +Which cannot entertaine the stroake of death +In budding yeares and verie spring of life. + +1 _Mur_. Leave of these bootlesse protestations, +And use no ruth-enticing argumentes, +For if you do, ile lop you lim by lim, +And torture you for childish eloquence. + +2 _Mur_. Thou shalt not make his little finger ake. + +1 _Mur_. Yes, every part, and this shall proove it true. + [_Runnes Perillo in with his sworde_. + +_Per_. Oh I am slaine, the Lord forgive thy fact! +And give thee grace to dye with penitence. [_Dyeth_. + +2 _Mur_. A treacherous villaine, full of cowardise! +Ile make thee know that thou hast done amisse. + +1 _m_. Teach me that knowledge when you will or dare. + + [_They fight and kill one another; the relenter + having some more life, and the other dyeth_. + +1 _mur_. Swoones, I am peppered, I had need have salt, +Or else to morrow I shall yeeld a stincke, +Worse then a heape of dirty excrements. +Now by this Hilt, this golde was earn'd too deare: +Ah, how now death, wilt thou be conquerour? +Then vengeance light on them that made me so, +And ther's another farewell ere I goe. + [_Stab the other murtherer againe_. + +2 _mur_. Enough, enough, I had my death before. + + [_A hunt within_. + + _Enter the Duke of Padua, Turqualo, Vesuvio, Alberto, &c_. + +_Duke_. How now my Lords, was't not a gallant course, +Beleeve me sirs, I never saw a wretch, +Make better shift to save her little life. +The thickets full of buskes,[24] and scratching bryers, +A mightie dewe,[25] a many deepe mouth'd hounds, +Let loose in every place to crosse their course,-- +And yet the Hare got cleanly from them all. +I would not for a hundred pound in faith, +But that she had escaped with her life; +For we will winde a merry hunters home, +And starte her once again tomorrow morne. + +_Turq_. In troth my Lord, the little flocked[26] hound, +That had but three good legs to further him, +Twas formost still, and surer of his sent, +Then any one in all the crie besides. + +_Vesu_. But yet _Pendragon_ gave the Hare more turnes. + +_Alber_. That was because he was more polliticke, +And eyed her closely in her coverts still: +They all did well, and once more we will trie, +The subtile creature with a greater crie. + + _Enter Allenso, booted_. + +_Duke_. But say, what well accomplished Gentleman +Is that that comes into our company? + +_Vesu_. I know him well, it is _Fallerios_ sonne, +_Pandynos_ brother (a kinde Gentleman) +That dyed and left his little pretty sonne, +Unto his brother's[27] good direction. + +_Duke_. Stand close awhile, and overheare his wordes; +He seemes much over-gone with passion. + +_Allen_. Yee timorous thoughts that guide my giddy steps +In unknowne pathes of dreadfull wildernesse, +Why traitor-like do you conspire to holde +My pained heart twixt feare and jealousie? +My too much care hath brought me carelesly, +Into this woody savadge labyrinth, +And I can finde no way to issue out; +Feare hath so dazeled all my better part, +That reason hath forgot discreations art. +But in good time, see where is company.-- +Kinde Gentlemen, if you, unlike my selfe, +Are not incumbred with the circling wayes +Of this erronious winding wildernesse, +I pray you to direct me foorth this wood +And showe the pathe that leades to _Padua_. + +_Duke_. We all are _Paduans_, and we all intend +To passe forthwith with speed to _Padua_. + +_Allen_. I will attend upon you presently. [_See the bodyes_. + +_Duke_. Come then away:--but, gentlemen beholde, +A bloody sight, and murtherous spectacle! + +2 _Mur_. Oh, God, forgive me all my wickednesse +And take me to eternall happinesse! + +_Duke_. Harke one of them hath some small sparke of life, +To kindle knowledge of their sad mishaps. + +_Allen_. Ah gratious Lord, I know this wretched child, +And these two men that here lye murthered. + +_Vesu_. Do you, _Allenso_? + +_Allen_. I, my gracious Lord: +It was _Pertillo_ my dead Unckles sonne. +Now have my feares brought forth this fearefull childe +Of endlesse care, and everlasting griefe! + +_Duke_. Lay hands upon _Allenso_, Gentlemen. +Your presence doth confirme you had a share +In the performance of this crueltie. + +_Allen_. I do confesse I have so great a share +In this mishap, that I will give him thankes, +That will let foorth my sorrow-wounded soule +From out this goale of lamentation. + +_Duke_. Tis now too late to wish for hadiwist.[28] +Had you withheld your hand from this attempt, +Sorrow had never so imprisoned you. + +_Allen_. Oh my good Lord, do not mistake my case, +And yet my griefe is sure infallible. +The Lord of heaven can witnesse with my soule, +That I am guiltelesse of your wrong suspect, +But yet not griefelesse that the deed is done. + +_Duke_. Nay if you stand to justifie your selfe, +This gentleman whose life dooth seeme to stay, +Within his body till[29] he tell your shame, +Shall testifie of your integritie: +Speake then, thou sad Anatomy of death, +Who were the Agents of your wofulnesse? + +2 _Mur_. O be not blinded with a false surmise, +For least my tongue should faile to end the tale +Of our untimely fate-appointed death, +Know young _Allenso_ is as innocent +As is _Fallerio_ guiltie of the crime. +He, he it was, that with foure hundredth markes, +Whereof two hundred he paide presently, +Did hire[30] this damn'd villaine and my selfe +To massacre this harmelesse innocent: +But yet my conscience, toucht with some remorse, +Would faine have sav'd the young _Pertillos_ life, +But he remorselesse would not let him live, +But unawares thrust in his harmelesse brest +That life-bereaving fatall instrument: +Which cruell deede I seeking to revenge, +Have lost my life and paid the slave his due +Rewarde for spilling blood of innocents. +Surprise _Fallerio_, author of this ill; +Save young _Allenso_, he is guiltlesse still. [_Dyeth_. + +_Allen_. Oh sweetest honie mixt with bitter gall, +Oh Nightingale combinde with Ravens notes, +Thy speech is like a woodward that should say,-- +Let the tree live, but take the root away. +As though my life were ought but miserie, +Having my father slaine for infamie! + +_Duke_. What should incite _Fallerio_ to devise, +The overthrowe of this unhappie boy? + +_Vesu_. That may be easily guest, my gracious Lord, +To be the lands _Pandino_ left his sonne, +Which, after that the boy were murthered, +Discend to him by due inheritance. + +_Duke_. You deeme aright. See, gentlemen, the fruites, +Of coveting to have anothers right. +Oh wicked thought of greedie covetice! +Could neither nature, feare of punishment, +Scandall to wife and children, nor the feare, +Of Gods confounding strict severitie, +Allay the head-strong furie of thy will? +Beware, my friends, to wish unlawfull gaine; +It will beget strange actions full of feare, +And overthrowe the actor unawares. +For first _Fallerios_ life must satisfie +The large effusion of their guiltlesse bloods, +Traind on by him to these extremities; +Next, wife and children must be disposest, +Of lands and goods, and turnde to beggerie; +But most of all, his great and hainous sinne, +Will be an eye-sore to his guiltlesse kinne. +Beare hence away these models of his shame, +And let us prosecute the murtherer +With all the care and diligence we can. + + [_Two must be carrying away Pertillo_ + +_Allen_. Forbeare awhile to beare away my joy, +Which now is vanisht since his life is fled; +And give me leave to wash his deadly wound +With hartie teares, outflowing from those eyes +Which lov'd his sight, more then the sight of heaven. +Forgive me God for this idolatrie! +Thou ugly monster, grim imperious death, +Thou raw-bonde lumpe of foule deformitie, +Reguardlesse instrument of cruell fate, +Unparciall Sergeant, full of treacherie, +Why didst thou flatter my ill-boding thoughts, +And flesh my hopes with vaine illusions? +Why didst thou say, _Pertillo_ should not dye, +And yet, oh yet, hast done it cruelly? +Oh but beholde, with what a smiling cheere, +He intertain'd thy bloody harbinger! +See, thou transformer of a heavenly face +To Ashie palenesse and unpleasing lookes, +That his fair countenance still retaineth grace +Of perfect beauty in the very grave. +The world would say such beauty should not dye; +Yet like a theefe thou didst it cruelly. +Ah, had thy eyes, deepe-sunke into thy head, +Beene able to perceive his vertuous minde, +Where vertue sat inthroned in a chaire, +With awfull grace and pleasing maiestie, +Thou wouldest not then have let _Pertillo_ die, +Nor like a theefe have slaine him cruellie. +Inevitable fates, could you devise, +No means to bring me to this pilgrimage, +Full of great woes and sad calamities, +But that the father should be principall, +To plot the present downfall of the sonne? +Come then kind death and give me leave to die, +Since thou hast slaine _Pertillo_ cruellie. + +_Du_. Forbeare, _Allenso_; hearken to my doome, +Which doth concerne thy fathers apprehension. +First we enjoyne thee, upon paine of death, +To give no succour to thy wicked sire, +But let him perrish in his damned sinne, +And pay the price of such a treacherie. +See that with speede the monster be attach'd, +And bring him safe to suffer punishment. +Prevent it not, nor seeke not to delude +The Officers to whom this charge is given; +For if thou doe, as sure as God doth live, +Thy selfe shall satisfie the lawes contempt. +Therefore forward about this punishment. + + [_Exeunt omnes: manet Allenso_. + +_Al_. Thankes, gratious God, that thou hast left the meanes +To end my soule from this perplexitie. +Not succour him on paine of present death! +That is no paine; death is a welcome guest +To those whose hearts are overwhelm'd with griefe. +My woes are done, I having leave to die +And after death live ever joyfullie. [_Exit_. + + _Enter Murther and Covetousnesse_. + +_Mur_. Now, _Avarice_, I have well satisfied +My hungrie thoughtes with blood and crueltie; +Now all my melanchollie discontent +Is shaken off, and I am throughlie pleas'd, +With what thy pollicie hath brought to passe. +Yet am I not so throughlie satisfied +Untill I bring the purple actors forth. +And cause them quaffe a bowle of bitternesse, +That father sonne, and sister brother may +Bring to their deathes with most assur'd decay. + +_Ava_. That wilbe done without all question, +For thou hast slaine _Allenso_ with the boy, +And _Rachell_ doth not wish to overlive +The sad remembrance of her brothers sinne. +Leave faithfull love to teach them how to dye, +That they may share their kinsfolkes miserie. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + + +[ACT THE FOURTH.] + +[SCENE I.] + + + _Enter Merrie and Rachell uncovering the head and legges_. + +_Mer_. I have bestow'd a watrie funerall +On the halfe bodie of my butchered friend. +The head and legges Ile leave in some darke place; +I care not if they finde them yea or no. + +_Ra_. Where do you meane to leave the head and legs? + +_Mer_. In some darke place nere to _Bainardes Castle_.[31] + +_Ra_. But doe it closelie that you be not seene; +For all this while you are without suspect. + +_Mer_. Take you no thought, Ile have a care of that; +Onelie take heede you have a speciall care +To make no shew of any discontent +Nor use too many words to any one. + [_Puts on his Cloake; taketh up the bag_. +I will returne when I have left my loade. +Be merrie, _Rachell_; halfe the feare is past. [_Exit_. + +_Ra_. But I shall never thinke my selfe secure. +This deede would trouble any quiet soule, +To thinke thereof, much more to see it done; +Such cruell deedes can never long be hid, +Although we practice nere so cunningly. +Let others open what I doe conceale; +Lo he is my brother, I will cover it, +And rather dye than have it spoken rife,-- +Lo where she goes, betrai'd her brothers life. + + [_Exit_. + + + +[SCENE II.] + + + _Enter Williams and Cowley_. + +_Co_. Why, how now, _Harry_, what should be the cause, +That you are growne so discontent of late? +Your sighes do shew some inward heavinesse; +Your heavy lookes, your eyes brimfull of teares, +Beares testimonie of some secret griefe. +Reveale it, _Harry_; I will be thy friend, +And helpe thee to my poore habillity. + +_Wil_. If I am heavie, if I often sigh, +And if my eyes beare recordes of my woe, +Condemne me not, for I have mightie cause, +More then I will impart to any one. + +_Co_. Do you misdoubt me, that you dare not tell +That woe to me that moves your discontent? + +_Wil_. Good Maister _Cowley_, you were ever kinde, +But pardon me; I will not utter it +To any one, for I have past my worde; +And therefore urge me not to tell my griefe. + +_Cow_. But those that smother griefe too secretly, +May wast themselves in silent anguishment, +And bring their bodies to so low an ebb, +That all the world can never make it flowe, +Unto the happy hight of former health. +Then be not [so] iniurious to thy selfe, +To wast thy strength in lamentation, +But tell thy case; wele seeke some remedie. + +_Wil_. My cause of griefe is now remedilesse, +And all the world can never lessen it; +Then since no meanes can make my sorrowes lesse, +Suffer me waile a woe which wants redresse. + +_Cow_. Yet let me beare a part in thy lamentes, +I love thee not so ill but I will mone +Thy heavie haps; thou shalt not sigh alone. + +_Wil_. Nay, if you are so curious to intrude +Your selfe to sorrow, where you have no share, +I will frequent some unfrequented place +Where none shall here nor see my lamentations. [_Exit_. + +_Cow_. And I will follow wheresoever thou goe; +I will be a partner of thy helplesse woe. + + [_Exit_. + + + +[SCENE III.] + + + _Enter two Watermen_. + +1. _Will_, ist not time we should go to our boates, +And give attendance for this _Bartlemew_ tide? +Folkes will be stirring early in the morning. + +2. By my troth I am indifferent whether I go or no. If a fare come, +why so; if not, why so; if I have not their money, they shall have +none of my labour. + +1. But we that live by our labours, must give attendance. +But where lyes thy Boate? + +2. At _Baynards Castle_ staires. + +1. So do's mine, then lets go together. + +2. Come, I am indifferent, I care not so much for going; but if I go +with you, why so; if not, why so. [_He falls over the bag_. +Sblood, what rascall hath laide this in my way! + +1. A[32] was not very indifferent that did so, but you are so +permentorie, to say, why so, and why so, that every one is glad to do +you iniurie. But lets see: what is it? + + [_Taking the Sack by the end, one of the legs and head drops out_. + +Good Lord deliver us! a mans legges, and a head with manie wounds! + +2. Whats that so much? I am indifferent, yet for mine owne part, +I understand the miserie of it; if you doe, why so, if not, why so. + +1. By my troth I understand no other mistery but this: +It is a strange and very rufull sight. +But, prethee, what doost thou conceit of it? + +2. In troth I am indifferent, for if I tell you, why so, if not why so. + +1. If thou tell me, Ile thanke thee; therefore I prethee tell me. + +2. I tell you I am indifferent; but to be plaine with you, I am greeved +to stumble at the hangmans budget. + +1. At the hangmans budget? why, this is a sack. + +2. And to speake indifferently, it is the hangman's Budget; and because +he thought too much of his labour to set this head upon the bridge, and +the legs upon the gates, he flings them into the streete for men to +stumble at, but If I get him in my boate, Ile so belabour him in a +stretcher, that he had better be stretcht in one of his owne halfepeny +halters. If this be a good conceit, why so; if not, why so. + +1. Thou art deceiv'd, this head hath many wounds, +And hoase and shoes remaining on the legs. +_Bull_ always strips all quartered traitors quite. + +2. I am indifferent whether you beleeve me or no; these were not worth +taking of, and therefore he left them on. If this be likely why so; +if not, why so. + +1. Nay, then I see you growe from worse to worse. +I heard last night, that one neere _Lambert Hill_ +Was missing, and his boy was murthered. +It may be this is a part of that same man; +What ere it be, ile beare it to that place. + +2. Masse I am indifferent; ile go along with you, if it be so, why so; +if not why so. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +[SCENE IV.] + + + _Enter three neighbors knocking at Loneys doore: Loney comes_. + +1. Hoe, Maister Loney! here you any newes +What is become of your Tennant _Beech_? + +_Lon_. No truely, sir, not any newes at all. + +2. What, hath the boy recovered any speach, +To give us light of these suggestions +That do arise upon this accident? + +_Lon_. There is no hope he should recover speech; +The wives do say he's ready now to leave +This greevous world, full-fraught with treacherie. + +3. Methinkes if _Beech_ himselfe be innocent, +That then the murtherer should not dwell farre off; +The hammer that is sticking in his head, +Was borrowed of a Cutler dwelling by, +But he remembers not who borrowed it: +He is committed that did owe[33] the hammer, +But yet he standes uppon his innocence; +And _Beeches_ absence causeth great suspition. + +_Lo_. If _Beech_ be faulty, as I do not thinke, +I never was so much deceiv'd before. +Oh had you knowne his conversation, +You would not have him in suspition. + +3. Divels seeme Saints, and in these[34] hatefull times, +Deceite can beare apparraunt signes of trueth, +And vice beare shew of vertues excellence. + + _Enter the two Watermen_. + +1. Pray is this Maister _Beeches_ house? + +_Lo_. My friend this same was maister _Beeches_ shop: +We cannot tell whether he live or no. + +1. Know you his head and if I shew it you? +Or can you tell me what hose or shooes he ware, +At that same time when he forsooke the shoppe? + +3. What, have you head, and hose, and shooes to show, +And want the body that should use the same? + +1. Behold this head, these legges, these hose and shooes, +And see if they were _Beeches_, yea or no. + +_Lo_. They are the same; alas, what is become, +Of the remainder of this wretched man! + +1 _Wat_. Nay that I know not; onelie these we found, +As we were comming up a narrow lane, +Neere _Baynardes Castle_, where we two did dwell; +And heering that a man was missing hence, +We thought it good to bring these to this place, + +3. Thankes, my good friendes; ther's some thing for your paines. + +2 _Wat_. We are indifferent, whether you give us anything or nothing; +and if you had not, why so; but since you have, why so. + +1 _Wat_. Leave your repining: Sir, we thanke you hartely. + +3. Farewell good fellowes.--Neighbour, now be bold: [_Exeunt Watermen_. +They dwell not farre that did this bloodie deed, +As God no doubt will at the last reveale, +Though they conceale it nere so cunninglie. +All houses, gutters, sincks and crevices +Have carefully been sought for, for the blood; +Yet theres no instaunce found in any place. + + _Enter a Porter and a Gentleman_. + +But who is that that brings a heavy loade, +Behinde him on a painefull porters backe? + +_Gen_. Praie, Gentlemen, which call you _Beeches_ shoppe? + +2 _Neig_. This is the place; what wold you with the man? + +_Gen_. Nothing with him; I heare the man is dead, +And if he be not, I have lost my paines. + +_Lo_. Hees dead indeede, but yet we cannot finde +What is become of halfe his hopelesse bodie. +His head and legges are found, but for the rest, +No man can tell what is become of it. + +_Gen_. Then I doe thinke I can resolve your doubt +And bring you certain tydings of the rest, +And if you know his doublet and his shirt. +As for the bodie it is so abus'd +That no man can take notice whoes it was. +Set downe this burden of anothers shame. +What, do you know the doublet and the shirt? + + [_Ex. Porter_. + +_Lo_. This is the doublet, these the seuered limmes, +Which late were ioyned to that mangled trunke: +Lay them together, see if they can make +Among them all a sound and solid man. + +3 _neigh_. They all agree, but yet they cannot make +That sound and whole which a remorsles hand +Hath severed with a knife of crueltie. +But say, good sir, where did you finde this out? + +_Gent_. Walking betime by _Paris Garden_ ditch, +Having my Water Spaniell by my side, +When we approach'd unto that haplesse place +Where this same trunke lay drowned in a ditch, +My Spaniell gan to sent, to bark, to plunge +Into the water, and came foorth againe, +And fawnd one me, as if a man should say, +Helpe out a man that heere lyes murthered. +At first I tooke delight to see the dog, +Thinking in vaine some game did there lye hid +Amongst the Nettles growing neere the banke; +But when no game, nor anything appear'd, +That might produce the Spaniell to this sport, +I gan to rate and beate the harmlesse Cur, +Thinking to make him leave to follow me; +But words, nor blowes, could moove the dog away, +But still he plung'd, he div'd, he barkt, he ran +Still to my side, as if it were for helpe. +I seeing this, did make the ditch be dragd, +Where then was found this body as you see, +With great amazement to the lookers on. + +3. Beholde the mightie miracles of God, +That sencelesse things should propagate their sinne +That are more bestiall farre then beastlinesse +Of any creature most insensible! + +2. _Neigh_. Cease we to wonder at Gods wondrous works, +And let us labour for to bring to light +Those masked fiends that thus dishonor him. +This sack is new, and, loe! beholde his marke +Remaines upon it, which did sell the bag. +Amongst the Salters we shall finde it out +When, and to whom, this bloody bag was sold. + +3. Tis very likely, let no paines be spar'd, +To bring it out, if it be possible; +Twere pitty such a murther should remaine +Unpunished mongst Turkes and Infidels. + +1. _neigh_. Sirs, I do know the man that solde this bag, +And if you please, Ile fetch him presently? + +_Gent_. With all our hearts. How say you gentlemen? +Perchance the murther thus may come to light. + +3. I pray you do it, we will tarry heere: [_Exit 1. neigh_. +And let the eyes of every passenger +Be satisfied, which may example be +How they commit such dreadfull wickednesse. + +_Ent. wom_. And please your maisterships, the boy is dead. + +3. _neigh_. Tis very strange that having many wounds +So terrible, so ghastlie; which is more, +Having the hammer sticking in his head; +That he should live and stirre from _Friday_ night, +To _Sunday_ morning, and even then depart, +When that his Maisters mangled course were found. +Bring him foorth too; perchance the murtherers +May have their hearts touched with due remorse, +Viewing their deeds of damned wickednesse. + [_Bring forth the boye and laye him by Beech_. + +1 _neigh_. Here is the Salters man that solde the bag. + +_Gent_. My friend, how long since did you sell that bag? +And unto whom, if you remember it? + +_Sal_. I sould the bag, good sir, but yesterday, +Unto a maide; I do not know her name. + +3 _neigh_. Nor where she dwels. + +_Sal_. No certeinly. + +2 _neigh_. But what apparell had she on her back? + +_Sal_. I do not well remember what she wore, +But if I saw her I should know her sure. + +3 _neigh_. Go round about to every neighbours house, +And will them shew their maides immediately: +God grant we may finde out the murtherers. + [_Go to one house, and knock at doore, asking_. +Bring forth such maides as are within your house! + +1 _housekeeper_. I have but one, ile send her down to you. + +3 _neigh_. Is this the maide? [_Come out maide_. + +_Salt_. No, sir, this is not she. [_Go to another, &c_. +How many maides do dwell within this house? + +2 _house_. Her's nere a woman here, except my wife. [_Go to Merryes_. + +3 _neigh_. Whose house is this? + +_Lo_. An honest civill mans, cald Maister _Merry_, +Who I dare be sworne, would never do so great a murther; +But you may aske heere to for fashion sake. + + [_Rachell sits in the shop_. + +3. How now, faire maide, dwels any here but you? +Thou hast too true a face for such a deed. + +_Rach_. No, gentle sir; my brother keepes no more. + +3 _neigh_. This is not she? + +_Salt_. No truly, gentleman. + + [_Ex. R_. + +3. This will not serve; we cannot finde her out. +Bring in those bodyes, it growes towards night; +God bring these damn'd murtherers at length to light! + + [_Exeunt omnes_. + + + +[SCENE V.] + + + _Enter Merry and Rachell_. + +_Mer_. Why go the neighbours round about the streete +To every house? what hast thou heard the cause? + +_Rach_. They go about with that same Salters man, +Of whom I bought the bag but yesterday, +To see if he can know the maide againe +Which bought it: this I think the very cause. + +_Mer_. How were my senses overcome with feare, +That I could not foresee this jeopardy! +For had I brought the bag away with me, +They had not had this meanes to finde it out. +Hide thee above least that the Salters man +Take notice of thee that thou art the maide, +And by that knowledge we be all undone. + +_Rach_. That feare is past, I sawe, I spake with him, +Yet he denies that I did buy the bag; +Besides the neighbours have no doubt of you, +Saying you are an honest harmelesse man, +And made enquirie heere for fashion sake. + +_Mer_. My former life deserves their good conceits, +Which is not blemisht with this treacherie. +My heart is merier then it was before, +For now I hope the greatest feare is past. +The hammer is denyed, the bag unknowne; +Now there is left no meanes to bring it out, +Unless our selves proove Traitors to our selves. + +_Rach_. When saw you _Hary Williams_? + +_Me_. Why, to day; +I met him comming home from _Powles Crosse_, +Where he had beene to heare a Sermon. + +_Rach_. Why brought you not the man along with you +To come to dinner, that we might perswade +Him to continue in his secrecie? + +_Mer_. I did intreate him, but he would not come, +But vow'd to be as secret as my selfe. + +_Rach_. What, did he sweare? + +_Mer_. What neede you aske me that? +You know we never heard him sweare an othe. +But since he hath conceal'd the thing thus long, +I hope in God he will conceale it still. + +_Rach_. Pray God he do, and then I have no doubt +But God will overpasse this greevous sinne, +If you lament with true unfained teares +And seeke to live the remnant of your yeares +In Gods true feare with upright conscience. + +_Mer_. If it would please him pardon this amisse +And rid my body from the open shame +That doth attend this deed, being brought to light, +I would endevour all my comming dayes +To please my maker and exalt his praise. +But it growes late, come bring me to my bed, +That I may rest my sorrow-charged head. + +_Rach_. Rest still in calme secure tranquillitie, +And over-blowe this storme of mightie feare +With pleasant gales of hoped quietnesse. +Go when you will; I will attend, and pray +To send this wofull night a cheerfull day. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +[SCENE VI.] + + + _Enter Falleria and Sostrata weeping_. + +_Fall_. Passe ore these rugged furrowes of laments +And come to plainer pathes of cheerefulnesse; +Cease thy continuall showers of thy woe. +And let my pleasing wordes of comfort chase +These[35] duskie cloudes of thy uniust dispaire +Farre from thy hart, and let a pleasing hope +Of young _Pertillos_ happy safe returne +Establish all your ill-devining thoughts; +So shall you make me cheerfull that am sad,-- +And feede your hopes with fond illusions. + +_Sos_. I could be so; but my divided soule, +Twixt feare and hope of young _Pertillos_ life, +Cannot arrive at the desired port +Of firme beleefe, until mine eyes do see +Him that I sent to know the certainetie. + +_Fal_. To know the certaintie! of whom, of what? +Whome, whether, when, or whereabout, I praie, +Have you dispatcht a frustrate messenger?-- +By heaven, and earth, my heart misgiveth[36] me, +They will prevent my cunning pollicie. [_To the people_. +Why speake you not? what winged Pegasus +Is posted for your satisfaction? + +_Sos_. Me thinkes my speach reveales a hidden feare, +And that feare telles me that the childe is dead. + +_Fall_. By sweete _S. Andrew_ and my fathers soule, +I thinke the peevish boy be too too well +But speake, who was your passions harbinger? + +_Sos_. One that did kindle my misdoubting thoughts, +With the large flame of his timiddity. + +_Fall_. Oh then I know the tinder of your feare. +Was young _Allenso_ your white[37] honnie sonne. +Confusion light upon his timerous head, +For broching this large streame of fearefulnesse! +And all the plagues that damned furies feele +For their forepassed bold iniquities, +Afflict you both for thus preventing me! + +_Sos_. Preventing you! of what? _Fallerio_, speake, +For if you doe not my poore hart will breake. + +_Fall_. Why of the good that I had purposed, +To young _Pertillo_, which I would conceale +From you and him until the deed were done. + +_Sost_. If it were good, then we affect him deare, +And would add furtherance to your enterprise. + +_Fall_. I say your close eaves-dropping[38] pollicies +Have hindred him of greater benefits +Then I can ever do him after this.-- +If he live long, and growe to riper sinne, [_To the people_. +Heele cursse you both, that thus have hindered +His freedom from this goale of sinfull flesh.-- +But let that passe, when went your harebrainde sonne, +That Cuckow, vertue-singing, hatefull byrde, +To guarde the safetie of his better part, +Which he hath pend within the childish coope +Of young _Pertillos_ sweete securitie? + +_Sost_. That lovely sonne, that comfort of my life, +The root of vertuous magnamitie, +That doth affect with an unfained love, +That tender boy, which under heavens bright eye, +Deserveth most to be affected deare, +Went some two houres after the little boy +Was sent away to keepe[39] at _Padua_. + +_Fall_. What, is a lovelie? he's a loathsome toade, +A one eyde _Cyclops_, a stigmaticke[40] brat, +That durst attempt to contradict my will, +And prie into my close intendements. + + _Enter Alenso sad_. + +Mas, here a comes: his downcast sullen looke, +Is over-waigh'd with mightie discontent.-- +I hope the brat is posted to his sire, +That he is growne so lazie of his pace; +Forgetfull of his dutie, and his tongue +Is even fast tyde with strings of heavinesse.-- +Come hether, boye! sawst thou my obstacle, +That little _Dromus_ that crept into my sonne, +With friendly hand remoov'd and thrust away? +Say, I, and please me with the sweetest note +That ever relisht in a mortals mouth. + +_Allen_. I am a Swan that singe, before I dye, +Your note of shame and comming miserie. + +_Fall_. Speake softly, sonne, let not thy mother heare; +She was almost dead before for very feare. + +_Allen_. Would I could roare as instruments of warre, +Wall-battring Cannons, when the Gun powder +Is toucht with part of _Etnas_ Element! +Would I could bellow like enraged Buls, +Whose harts are full of indignation, +To be captiv'd by humaine pollicie! +Would I could thunder like Almightie _Ioue_, +That sends his farre-heard voice to terrifie +The wicked hearts of earthly citizens! +Then roaring, bellowing, thundring, I would say, +Mother, lament, _Pertillos_ made away! + +_Sost_. What, is he dead? God give me leave to die, +And him repentance for his treacherie! + [_Falleth down and dyeth_. + +_Fall_. Never the like impietie was done: +A mother slaine, with terror of the sonne! +Helpe to repaire the damadge thou hast made, +And seeke to call back life with dilligence. + +_Allen_. Call back a happy creature to more woe! +That were a sinne: good Father, let her go. +0 happy I, if my tormenting smart, +Could rend like her's, my griefe-afflicted heart! +Would your hard hart extend unto your wife, +To make her live an everdying life? +What, is she dead? oh, then thrice happy she, +Whose eyes are bard from our callamitie! + +_Fall_. I, all too soone, thou viper, paracide! +But for thy tongue thy mother had not dyde: +That belching voice, that harsh night-raven sound, +Untimely sent thy mother to the ground: +Upbraid my fault, I did deceive my brother; +Cut out thy tongue, that slue thy carefull mother. + +_Allen_. God love my soule, as I in heart rejoyce +To have such power in my death-bringing voice, +See how in steade of teares and hartie sighes; +Of foulded armes and sorrow-speaking lookes, +I doe behold with cheerefull countenance +The livelesse roote of my nativitie, +And thanke her hasty soule that thence did goe +To keep her from her sonne and husbandes woe.-- +Now, father, give attention to my tale; +I will not dip my griefe-deciphering tongue +In bitter wordes of reprehension. +Your deeds have throwne more mischiefes on your head +Then wit or reason can remove againe; +For to be briefe, _Pertillo_, (oh that name +Cannot be nam'de without a hearty sigh!) +Is murthered, and-- + +_Fal_. What and? this newes is good. + +_Allen_. The men which you suborn'd to murther him-- + +_Fal_. Better and better, then it cannot out, +Unlesse your love will be so scripulous [_sic_] +That it will overthrowe your selfe and me. + +_Allen_. The best is last, and yet you hinder me. +The Duke of _Padua_ hunting in the wood, +Accompanied with Lordes and Gentlemen-- + +_Fal_. Swones what of that? what good can come of that? + +_Allen_. Was made acquainted by the one of them, +(That had some little remnant of his life) +With all your practice and conspiracie. + +_Fall_. I would that remnant had fled quicke to hell, +To fetch fierce fi[e]ndes to rend their carcases, +Rather then bring my life in ieopardie! +Is this the best? swones, doe you mocke me, sonne, +And make a iest at my calamitie? + +_Allen_. Not I, good father; I will ease your woe, +If you but yeeld unto my pollicie. + +_Fal_. Declare it then, my wits are now to seeke; +That peece of life hath so confounded mee +That I am wholly overcome with feare. + +_Allen_. The Duke hath vow'd to prosecute your life, +With all the strict severitie he can; +But I will crosse his resolution +And keepe you from his furie well enough. +Ile weare your habit, I will seeme the man +That did suborne the bloodie murtherers; +I will not stir from out this house of woe, +But waight the comming of the officers, +And answere for you fore the angrie Duke, +And, if neede be, suffer your punishment. + +_Fall_. Ile none of that; I do not like the last; +I love thee dearer then I doe my life, +And all I did, was to advance thy state +To sunne-bright beames of shining happinesse. + +_Allen_. Doubte not my life, for when I doe appeare +Before the Duke, I being not the man, +He can inflict no punishment on mee. + +_Fall_. Mas, thou saiest true, a cannot punish thee; +Thou wert no actor of their Tragaedie. +But for my beard thou canst not counterfet +And bring gray haires uppon thy downy chinne; +White frostes are never seene in summers spring. + +_Allen_. I bought a beard this day at _Padua_, +Such as our common actors use to weare +When youth would put on ages countenance; +So like in shape, in colour, and in all, +To that which growes upon your aged face, +That were I dressed in your abilimentes, +Your selfe would scarcely know me from your selfe. + +_Fall_. That's excellent. What shape hast thou devis'd, +To be my vizard to delude the worlde? + +_Allen_. Why thus: ile presentlie shave off your haire, +And dresse you in a lowlie shepheardes weede; +Then you will seeme to have the carefull charge +Of some wealth-bringing, rich, and fleecy flocke, +And so passe currant from suspition. + +_Fall_. This care of thine, my sonne, doth testifie, +Nature in thee hath firme predominance, +That neither losse of friend, nor vile reproch, +Can shake thee with their strongest violence: +In this disguise, ile see the end of thee, +That thou, acquited, then maist succour me. + +_Allen_. I am assur'd to be exempt from woe:-- +This plot will worke my certaine overthrowe. [_(To the) People_. + +_Fall_. I will beare hence thy mother, and my wife, +Untimely murthered with true sorrowes knife. [_Exit_. + +_Allen_. Untimely murthered! happy was that griefe, +Which hath abridg'd whole numbers numberlesse +Of hart-surcharging deplorations. +She shall have due and Christian funerall, +And rest in peace amongst her auncestors. +As for our bodies, they shall be inter'd, +In ravening mawes, of Ravens, Puttockes, Crowes, +Of tatlin[g] Magpies, and deathes harbingers, +That wilbe glutted with winde-shaken limmes +Of blood-delighting hatefull murtherers. +And yet these many winged sepulchers, +Shall turne to earth, so I and father shall, +At last attaine to earth by funerall. +Well I will prosecute my pollicy, +That wished death may end my miseries. + + [_Exit_. + + + +[SCENE VII.] + + + _Enter Cowley and Williams_. + +_Cow_. Still in your dumpes, good _Harry_? yet at last, +Utter your motive of this heavinesse. +Why go you not unto your maisters house? +What, are you parted? if that be the cause, +I will provide you of a better place. + +_Wil_. Who roves all day, at length may hit the marke; +That is the cause,--because I cannot stay +With him whose love is dearer then my life. + +_Cow_. Why fell you out? why did you part so soone? + +_Wil_. We fell not out, but feare hath parted us. + +_Cow_. What, did he feare your truth or honest life? + +_Wil_. No, no, your understanding is but dimme, +That farre-remooved cannot iudge the feare. +We both were fearefull, and we both did part, +Because indeed we both were timerous. + +_Cow_. What accident begot your mutuall feare? + +_Wil_. That which my hart hath promis'd to conceale. + +_Cow_. Why, now you fall into your auncient vaine. + +_Wil_. Tis vaine to urge me from this silent vaine; +I will conceale it, though it breed my paine. + +_Cow_. It seemes to be a thing of consequence, +And therefore prithie, _Harry_, for my love, +Open this close fast-clasped mysterie. + +_Wil_. Were I assur'd my hart should have release +Of secret torment and distemperature, +I would reveale it to you specially +Whom I have found my faithfull favorite. + +_Cow_. Good _Harrie Williams_, make no doubt of that; +Besides your griefe reveald may have reliefe, +Beyond your present expectation. +Then tell it, _Harry_, what soere it be, +And ease your hart of horror, me of doubt. + +_Wil_. Then have you heard of _Beech_ of _Lambert Hill_, +And of his boy which late were murthered? + +_Cow_. I heard, and sawe their mangled carcases. + +_Will_. But have you heard of them that murthered them? + +_Cow_. No, would I had, for then Ide blaze their shame, +And make them pay due penance for their sinne. + +_Wil_. This I misdoubted, therefore will forbeare +To utter what I thought to have reveald. + +_Cow_. Knowst thou the actors of this murthrous deed, +And wilt conceale it now the deed is done? +Alas, poore man, thou knowest not what thou doost! +Thou hast incur'd the danger of the lawe +And thou mongst them must suffer punishment, +Unlesse thou do confesse it presentlie. + +_Wil_. What? shall I then betray my maisters life? + +_Cow_. Better then hazard both thy life and soule +To boulster out such barbarous villanie. +Why, then belike your maister did the deed? + +_Wil_. My maister unawares escapt my mouth; +But what the Lord doth please shall come to light, +Cannot be hid by humaine pollicie: +His haplesse hand hath wrought the fatall end +Of _Robert Beech_ and _Thomas Winchester_. + +_Cow_. Could he alone do both those men to death? +Hadst thou no share in execution? + +_Wil_. Nor knew not of it, till the deed was done. + +_Cow_. If this be true, thou maist escape with life: +Confesse the truth unto the officers, +And thou shalt finde the favour of the lawe. + +_Wil_. If I offended, 'twas my Maister's love +That made me hide his great transgressions: +But I will be directed as you please. +So save me God, as I am innocent! + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +[SCENE VIII.] + + + _Enter Alenso in Falleriaes apparell and berd; + Falleria shaven in shepheards habilliments_. + +_Fal_. Part of my selfe, now seemst thou wholy me, +And I seeme neither like my selfe nor thee, +Thankes to thy care and this unknown disguise. +I like a shepheard now must learn to know, +When to lead foorth my little bleating flock, +To pleasing pastures, and well-fatting walkes; +In stormie time to drive them to the lee; +To cheere the pretie Lambes, whose bleating voice +Doth crave the wished comfort of their dams; +To sound my merry Bag-pipe on the downes, +In shearing times, poore Shepheards festivals; +And lastlie, how to drive the Wolfe away, +That seeke to make the little Lambes their pray. + +_Allen_. Ah, have you care to drive the Wolfe away +From sillie creatures wanting intellecte, +And yet would suffer your devouring thoughts, +To suck the blood of your dead brothers sonne! +As pure and innocent as any Lambe +_Pertillo_ was, which you have fed upon. +But things past helpe may better be bewaild +With carefull teares, then finde a remedie; +Therefore, for feare our practise be espide, +Let us to question of our husbandrie. +How many Lambes fell from the middle flock, +Since I myselfe did take the latter view? + + _Enter Vesuvio, Turqual, Alberto_. + +_Fall_. Some vive and twenty, whereof two are dead. +But three and twenty scud about the fields, +That glads my hart to ze their iollitie. + +_Vesu_. This is the man, conferring of his Lambes, +That slew a Lambe worth all his flock besides. + +_Allen_. What is the time to let the Weathers blood? +The forward spring, that hath such store of grasse, +Hath fild them full of ranke unwholsome blood, +Which must be purg'd; else, when the winter comes, +The rot will leave me nothing but their skinnes. + +_Fall_. Chil let om blood, but yet it is no time, +Untill the zygne be gone below the hart.[41] + +_Vesu_. Forbeare a while this idle businesse, +And talke of matters of more consequence. + +_Fall_. Che tell you plaine, you are no honest man, +To call a shepheards care an idle toye. +What though we have a little merry sport +With flowrie gyrlonds, and an Oaten pipe, +And jolly friskins on a holly-day, +Yet is a shepheards cure a greater carke +Then sweating Plough-men with their busie warke. + +_Vesu_. Hence! leave your sheepish ceremoniall!-- +And now, _Fallerio_, in the Princes name, +I do arrest you, for the cruell murther +Of young _Pertillo_, left unto your charge, +Which you discharged with a bloody writ, +Sign'd by the hands of those you did suborne. +Nay, looke not strange, we have such evidence, +To ratifie your _Stigian_ cruelty, +That cannot be deluded any way. + +_Allen_. Alas, my Lords, I know not what you say! +As for my Nephew, he, I hope, is well: +I sent him yesterday to _Padua_. + +_Alber_. I, he is well, in such a vengers handes, +As will not winck at your iniquitie. + +_Allen_. By heaven and earth my soule is innocent! +Say what you will, I know my conscience. + +_Fal_.--To be afflicted with a scourge of care, +Which my oreweaning rashnesse did infflict. + +_Turq_. Come, beare him hence! expostulate no more; +That heart that could invent such treachery, +Can teach his face to brave it cunninglie. + +_Alen_. I do defie your accusations; +Let me have justice, I will answere it. + +_Vesuv_. So, beare him hence! I meane to stay behinde, +To take possession of his goods and landes +For the Dukes use: it is too manifest. + +_Allen_. I hope youle answere anything you doe. +My Lord _Vesuvio_, you shall answere it, +And all the rest that use extremities. + +_Alber_. I, to the Dukes Exchecker, not to you. + + [_Exeunt omnes; manet Falleria_. + +_Fal_. Thus shades are caught when substances are fled. +Indeede they have my garments, but my selfe +Am close enough from their discoverie; +But not so close but that my verie soule, +Is ract with tormentes for _Pertillos_ death. +I am _Acteon_; I doe beare about, +My hornes of shame and inhumanitie. +My thoughts, like hounds which late did flatter me +With hope of great succeeding benefits, +Now gin to teare my care-tormented heart +With feare of death and tortring punishment. +These are the stings whenas our consciences +Are stuf'd and clogd with close-concealed crimes. +Well, I must smoather all these discontentes, +And strive to beare a smoother countenaunce +Then rugged care would willingly permit. +Ile to the Court to see _Allenso_ free, +That he may then relieve my povertie. + + [_Exit_. + + + +[SCENE IX.] + + + _Enter Constable, three watchmen with halberdes_. + +_Con_. Who would have thought of all the men alive +That _Thomas Merry_ would have done this deede +So full of ruth and monstrous wickednesse! + +1 _wat_. Of all the men that live in _London_ walles, +I would have thought that _Merry_ had bin free. + +2 _wat_. Is this the fruites of Saint-like Puritans? +I never like such damn'd hipocrisie. + +3 _wat_. He would not loase a sermon for a pound, +An oath he thought would rend his iawes in twaine, +An idle word did whet Gods vengeance on; +And yet two murthers were not scripulous. +Such close illusions God will bring to light, +And overthrowe the workers with his might. + +_Con_. This is the house; come let us knocke at dore; +I see a light, they are not all in bed: + [_Knockes; Rachell comes downe_. +How now, faire maide? is your brother up? + +_Rach_. He's not within, sir; would you speake with him? + +_Con_. You doe but iest; I know he is within, +And I must needes go uppe and speake with him. + +_Rach_. In deede, good sir, he is in bed a sleepe, +And I was loath to trouble him to-night. + +_Con_. Well, sister, I am sorry for your sake; +But for your brother, he is knowne to be +A damned villaine and an hipocrite. +_Rachell_, I charge thee in her highnesse name, +To go with us to prison presently. + +_Rach_. To prison, sir? alas, what have I done? + +_Con_. You know that best, but every one doe know +You and your brother murthered Maister _Beech_, +And his poore boy that dwelt at _Lambert hill_. + +_Rach_. I murthered? my brother knowes that I, +Did not consent to either of their deathes. + +_Con_. That must be tride; where doth your brother lye? + +_Rach_. Here in his bed; me thinks he's not a sleepe. + +_Con_. Now, Maister _Merry_, are you in a sweate? + [_Throwes his night cap away_. + +_Merry sigh_. No verily, I am not in a sweate. + +_Con_. Some sodaine feare affrights you; whats the cause? + +_Mer_. Nothing but that you wak'd me unawares. + +_Con_. In the Queenes name I doe commaund you rise, +And presently to goe along with us. + [_Riseth up_. + +_Mer_. With all my hart; what, doe you know the cause? + +_Con_. We partly doe; when saw you maister _Beech_? + +_Mer_. I doe not well remember who you meane. + +_Con_. Not _Beech_, the Chaundler upon _Lambert hill_? + +_Mer_. I know the man, but saw him not this fortnight. + +_Con_. I would you had not, for your sisters sake, +For yours, for his, and for his harmlesse boy. +Be not obdurate in your wickednesse; +Confession drawes repentance after it. + +_Mer_. Well, maister Constable, I doe confesse, +I was the man that did them both to death: +As for my sister and my harmlesse man, +I doe protest they both are innocent. + +_Con_. Your man is fast in hold, and hath confest +The manner how, and where, the deede was done; +Therefore twere vaine to colour anything. +Bring them away. + +_Rach_. Ah brother, woe is me! + +_Mer_. I comfortlesse will helpe to comfort thee. + + [_Exeunt_. + + _Enter Trueth_. + +Weepe, weepe poor soules, & enterchange your woes; +Now, _Merry_, change thy name and countenance; +Smile not, thou wretched creature, least in scorne +Thou smile to thinke on thy extremities. +Thy woes were countlesse for thy wicked deedes, +Thy sisters death neede not increase the coumpt, +For thou couldst never number them before.-- +Gentles, helpe out with this suppose, I pray, +And thinke it truth, for Truth dooth tell the tale. +_Merry_, by lawe convict as principall, +Receives his doome, to hang till he be dead, +And afterwards for to be hangd in chaines. +_Williams_ and _Rachell_ likewise are convict +For their concealment; _Williams_ craves his booke[42] +And so receaves a brond[43] of infamie; +But wretched _Rachels_ sexe denies that grace, +And therefore dooth receive a doome of death +To dye with him whose sinnes she did conceale. +Your eyes shall witnesse of their shaded tipes, +Which many heere did see perform'd indeed. +As for _Fallerio_, not his homelie weedes, +His beardlesse face, nor counterfetted speech, +Can shield him from deserved punishment; +But what he thinkes shall rid him from suspect, +Shall drench him in more waves of wretchednesse, +Pulling his sonne into relentlesse iawes, +Of hungrie death, on tree of infamie. +Heere comes the Duke that doomes them both to die; +Next _Merries_ death shall end this Tragedie. + + [_Exit_. + + + + +[ACT THE FIFTH.] + +[SCENE I.] + + + _Enter Duke, Vesuvio, Turq., Alberto: and Fallerio disguised_. + +_Duke_. Where is that _Syren_, that incarnate fiend, +Monster of Nature, spectacle of shame, +Blot and confusion of his familie, +False-seeming semblance of true-dealing trust, +I meane _Fallerio_, bloody murtherer: +Hath he confest his cursed treacherie, +Or will he stand to proove his innocence? + +_Vesu_. We have attach'de _Fallerio_, gracious lord, +And did accuse him with _Pertillos_ death; +But he remote will not confesse himselfe +Neither the meanes nor author of the same. +His mightie vowes and protestations +Do almost seeme to pleade integritie, +But that we all do know the contrarie. + +_Fall_.--I know your error stricks your knowledge blinde; +His seeming me, doth so delude your minde. [_(To the) People_. + +_Duke_. Then bring him forth, to answer for himselfe, +Since he stands stoutly to denie the deed: + + [_Alberto and other fetch Alenso_. + +His sonne can witnesse that the dying man +Accusde _Fallerio_ for his treacherie.-- +Stand forth thou close disguised hipocrite, +And speake directlie to these articles: +First, didst thou hire two bloodie murtherers +To massacre _Pertillo_ in a wood? + +_Alen_. I never did suborne such murtherers, +But ever lov'd _Pertillo_ as my life. + +_Duke_. Thy sonne can witnesse to the contrarie. + +_Alen_. I have no sonne to testifie so much. + +_Fal_.--No, for his gravitie is counterfeit, +Pluck off his beard, and you will sweare it so. + +_Vesu_. Have you no sonne? doth not _Alenso_ live? + +_Alen_. _Alenso_ lives, but is no sonne of mine. + +_Alber_. Indeed his better part had not his source +From thy corrupted vice-affecting hart, +For vertue is the marke he aimeth at. + +_Duke_. I dare be sworne that _Sostrata_ would blush, +Shouldst thou deny _Alenso_ for thy sonne. + +_Alen_. Nay, did she live, she would not challenge me +To be the father of that haplesse sonne. + +_Turq_. Nay, then anon you will denie your selfe +To be your selfe, unjust _Fallerio_. + +_Alen_. I do confesse my selfe to be my selfe, +But will not answere to _Fallerio_. + +_Duke_. Not to _Fallerio_? this is excellent! +You are the man was cal'd _Fallerio_. + +_Alen_. He never breathed yet that cal'd me so, +Except he were deceiv'd as you are now. + +_Duke_. This impudence shall not excuse your fault; +You are well knowne to be _Fallerio_, +The wicked husband of dead _Sostrata_ +And father to the vertuous _Alenso_; +And even as sure as all these certeinties, +Thou didst contrive thy little Nephewes death. + +_Alen_. True, for I am nor false _Fallerio_, +Husband, nor father, as you do suggest, +And therefore did not hire the murtherers; +Which to be true acknowledge with your eyes. + [_Puls off his disguise_. + +_Duke_. How now, my Lords! this is a myracle, +To shake off thirtie yeares so sodeinlie +And turne from feeble age to flourishing youth! + +_Alb_. But he my Lord that wrought this miracle, +Is not of power to free himselfe from death, +Through the performance of this suddaine change. + +_Duke_. No, were he the chiefest hope of Christendome, +He should not live for this presumption: +Use no excuse, _Alenso_, for thy life; +My doome of death shall be irrevocable. + +_Alen_. Ill fare his soule that would extenuate +The rigor of your life-confounding doome! +I am prepar'd with all my hart to die, +For thats th' end of humaine miserie. + +_Duke_. Then thus: you shall be hang'd immediately, +For your illusion of the Magistrates +With borrowed shapes of false antiquitie. + +_Alen_. Thrice-happy sentence, which I do imbrace +With a more fervent and unfained zeale +Then an ambicious rule-desiring man +Would do a Iem-bedecked Diadem, +Which brings more watchfull cares and discontent +Then pompe or honor can remunerate. +When I am dead, let it be said of me, +_Alenso_ died to set his father free. + +_Fal_. That were a freedome worse than servitude +To cruell Turke or damned Infidell. +Most righteous Judge, I do appeale for Iustice, +Justice on him that hath deserved death, +Not on _Alenso_; he is innocent. + +_Alen_. But I am guiltie of abetting him, +Contrarie to his Maiestie's Edict, +And therefore death is meritorious. + +_Fall_. I am the wretch that did subborne the slaves, +To murther poore _Pertillo_ in the wood. +Spare, spare _Alenso_! he is innocent. + +_Duke_. What strange appeale is this! we know thee not: +None but _Fallerio_ is accusde hereof. + +_Alen_. Then, father, get you hence, depart in time, +Least being knowne you suffer for the crime. + +_Fal_. Depart, and leave thee clad in horrors cloake, +And suffer death for true affection! +Although my soule be guiltie of more sinne, +Then ever sinfull soule were guiltie of, +Yet fiends of hell would never suffer this. +I am thy father, though unworthy so: +Oh, still I see these weeds do feare your eyes. +I am _Fallerio_, make no doubt of me, [_Put off_. +Though thus disguisde, in habite, countenance, +Only to scape the terror of the lawe. + +_Alen_. And I _Alenso_ that did succour him +Gainst your commaundement, mightie Soveraigne. +Ponder your oath, your vowe, as God did live, +I should not live, if I did rescue him. +I did, God lives, and will revenge it home, +If you defer my condigne punishment. + +_Duke_. Assure your selves, you both shall suffer death: +But for _Fallerio_, he shall hang in chaines +After he's dead, for he was principall. + +_Fall_. Unsaverie Woormewood, Hemlock, bitter gall, +Brings no such bad, unrelisht, sower taste, +Unto the tongue as this death-boding voice, +Brings to the eares of poore _Fallerio_, +Not for myselfe but for _Allensoes_ sake, +Whome I have murthered by my trechery. +Ah my dread Lord, if any little sparke +Of melting pittie doth remaine alive, +And not extinguisht by my impious deedes, +Oh kindle it unto a happie flame, +To light _Allenso_ from this miserie +Which through dim death he's like to fall into. + +_Allen_. That were to overthrow my soule and all. +Should you reverse this sentence of my death, +My selfe would play the death-man on my selfe +And overtake your swift and winged soule, +Ere churlish _Caron_ had transported you +Unto the fields of sad _Proserpina_. + +_Duke_. Cease, cease, _Fallerio_, in thy bootlesse prayers. +I am resolv'd, I am inexorable. +_Vesuvio_, see their judgement be performde, +And use _Alenso_ with all clemencie, +Provided that the lawe be satisfied. + + [_Exit Duke and Alberto_. + +_Vesu_. It shall be done with all respectivenesse; +Have you no doubt of that, my gratious Lord. + +_Fall_. Here is a mercie mixt with equitie, +To show him favour but cut off his head. + +_Alen_. My reverend father pacifie yourselfe; +I can, and will, indure the stroake of death, +Were his appearance nere so horrible, +To meete _Pertillo_ in another world. + +_Fal_. Thou shouldst have tarried untill natures course +Had been extinct, that thou oregrowne with age, +Mightst die the death of thy progenitors; +Twas not thy meanes he died so soddenly, +But mine, that causing his, have murthered thee. + +_Alen_. But yet I slew my mother, did I not? + +_Fal_. I, with reporting of my villanie. +The very audit of my wickednesse, +Had force enough to give a sodaine death. +Ah sister, sister, now I call to minde, +Thy dying wordes now prov'd a prophesie, +If you deale ill with this distressed childe, +God will no doubt revenge the innocent. +I have delt ill, and God hath tane revenge. + +_Allen_. Now let us leave remembrance of past deedes, +And thinke on that which more concerneth us. + +_Fal_. With all my hart; thou ever wert the spur +Which prict me on to any godlinesse; +And now thou doest indevor to incite +Me make my parting peace with God and men. +I doe confesse, even from my verie soule, +My hainous sinne and grievous wickednesse +Against my maker manie thousand waies: +_Ab imo cordis_ I repent my selfe +Of all my sinnes against his maiestie; +And, heavenly father, lay not to my charge +The death of poore _Pertillo_ and those men +Which I suborn'd to be his murtherers, +When I appeare before thy heavenlie throne +To have my sentence or of life or death. + +_Vesu_. Amen, amen, and God continue still +These mercie-moving meditations. + +_Allen_. And thou, great God, which art omnipotent, +Powerful! enough for to redeeme our soules +Even from the verie gates of gaping hell, +Forgive our sinnes and wash away our faults +In the sweete river of that precious blood +Which thy deare sonne did shed in _Galgotha_, +For the remission of all contrite soules. + +_Fal_. Forgive thy death, my thrice-beloved sonne. + +_Allen_. I doe, and, father, pardon my misdeedes +Of disobedience and unthankfullnesse. + +_Fal_. Thou never yet wert disobedient, +Unlesse I did commaund unlawfulnesse. +Ungratefulnesse did never trouble thee; +Thou art too bounteous thus to guerdon me. + +_Allen_. Come, let us kisse and thus imbrace in death. +Even when you will, come, bring us to the place, +Where we may consumate our wretchednesse, +And change it for eternall hapinesse. + + [_Exeunt omnes_. + + + +[SCENE II.] + + _Enter Merry and Rachel to execution with Officers + with Halberdes, the Hangman with a lather [sic] &c_. + +_Mer_. Now, sister _Rachell_, is the houre come +Wherein we both must satisfie the law +For _Beeches_ death and harmelesse _Winchester_. +Weepe not sweete sister, for that cannot helpe: +I doe confesse fore all this company +That thou wert never privie to their deathes, +But onelie helpest me, when the deede was done, +To wipe the blood and hide away my sinne; +And since this fault hath brought thee to this shame, +I doe intreate thee on my bended knee +To pardon me for thus offending thee. + +_Rach_. I doe forgive you from my verie soule, +And thinke not that I shed these store of teares, +For that I price my life, or feare to dye, +Though I confesse the manner of my death +Is much more grievous then my death it selfe; +But I lament for that it hath beene said +I was the author of this crueltie +And did produce you to this wicked deede, +Whereof God knowes that I am innocent. + +_Mer_. Indeede thou art; thy conscience is at peace, + [_Goe up the lather_. +And feeles no terror for such wickednesse; +Mine hath beene vexed but is now at rest, +For that I am assur'd my hainous sinne +Shall never rise in judgement gainst my soule, +But that the blood of _Jesus Christ_ hath power +To make my purple sinne as white as Snowe. +One thing, good people, witnesse here with me, +That I doe dye in perfect charitie, +And do forgive, as I would be forgiven +First of my God and then of all the world. +Cease publishing that I have beene a man +Train'd up in murther or in crueltie, +For fore this time, this time is all too soone, +I never slue or did consent to kill; +So helpe me God as this I speake is true! +I could say something of my innocence, +In fornication and adulterie, +But I confesse the iustest man alive, +That beares about the frailtie of a man, +Cannot excuse himselfe from daily sinne +In thought, in word, and deed. Such was my life. +I never hated _Beech_ in all my life, +Onely desire of money which he had, +And the inciting of that foe of man, +That greedie gulfe, that great _Leviathan_, +Did halle [_sic_] me on to these callamities; +For which, even now my very soule dooth bleede. +God strengthen me with patience to endure +This chastisement, which I confesse too small +A punishment for this my hainous sinne. +Oh be couragious, sister! fight it well! +We shall be crown'd with immortallitie. + +_Rach_. I will not faint, but combat manfully; +Christ is of power to helpe and strengthen me. + +_Officer_. I pray make hast; the hower is almost past. + +_Mer_. I am prepar'd; oh God, receive my soule; +Forgive my sinnes, for they are numberlesse. +Receive me, God, for now I come to thee! + [_Turne of the Lather. Rachel shrinketh_. + +_Offi_. Nay shrinke not, woman; have a cheerefull hart. + +_Rach_. I, so I do, and yet this sinfull flesh +Will be rebellious gainst my willing spirit. +Come, let me clime these steps that lead to heaven, +Although they seeme the staires of infamie: +Let me be merror to ensuing times, +And teach all sisters how they do conceale, +The wicked deeds of brethren, or of friends. +I not repent me of my love to him, +But that thereby I have provoked God +To heavie wrath and indignation; +Which turne away, great God, for Christes sake. +Ah, _Harry Williams_, thou wert chiefest cause, +That I doe drinke of this most bitter cup, +For hadst thou opened _Beeches_ death at first, +The boy had liv'd and thou hadst sav'd my life. +But thou art branded with a marke of shame, +And I forgive thee from my very soule. +Let him and me learn all that heare of this +To utter brothers or their maisters misse; +Conceale no murthers, lest it do beget +More bloody deeds of like deformitie. +Thus God forgive my sinnes, receive my soule! +And though my dinner be of bitter death, +I hope my soule shall sup with Jesus Christ, +And see his presence everlastingly. [_Dyeth_. + +_Offi_. The Lord of heaven have mercy on her soule, +And teach all others by this spectacle, +To shunne such dangers as she ran into, +By her misguided taciturnitie: +Cut downe their bodies, give hers funerall, +But let his body be conveyed hence, +To _Mile-end_ greene, and there be hang'd in chaines. + + [_Exeunt omnes_. + + _Enter Truthe_. + +_Tru_. See here the end of lucre and desire +Of riches, gotten by unlawfull meanes. +What monstrous evils this hath brought to passe, +Your scarce-drie eyes give testimoniall; +The father sonne, the sister brother brings, +To open scandall and contemptuous death. + + _Enter Homicide and Covetousnesse_. + +But heere come they that wrought these deeds of ruthe, +As if they meant to plot new wickednesse. +Whether so fast, you damned miscreants, +Yee vaine deluders of the credulous, +That seeke to traine men to destruction? + +_Mur_. Why, we will on, to set more harmes a flote, +That I may swim in rivers of warme blood, +Out-flowing from the sides of Innocents. + +_Cove_. I will entice the greedie-minded soule, +To pull the fruite from the forbidden tree; +Yet _Tantall_-like, he shall but glut his eye, +Nor feede his body with salubrious fruite. + +_Tru_. Hence Stigmaticks, you shall not harbor heare, +To practice execrable butcheries! +My selfe will bring your close designes to light, +And overthrow your vilde conspiracies. +No hart shall intertaine a murthrous thought +Within the sea-imbracing continent, +Where faire _Eliza_, Prince of pietie, +Doth weare the peace-adorned Diadem. + +_Cove_. Mauger the worst, I will have many harts +That shall affect my secret whisperings; +And chinck of golde is such a pleasing crie, +That all men wish to heare such harmony, +And I will place stern _Murther_ by my side, +That we may do more harmes then haughty pride. + +_Homi_. Truth, now farewell; hereafter thou shalt see +Ile vexe thee more with many tragedies. + +_Truth_. The more the pitty; would the hart of man +Were not so open wide to entertaine +The harmfull baites of selfe-devouring sinne! +But from the first unto the latter times, +It hath and will be so eternally.---- +Now it remaines to have your good advice +Unto a motion of some consequence. +There is a Barke thats newly rigd for sea, +Unmand, unfurnishd with munition: +She must incounter with a greater foe +Then great _Alcydes_ slue in _Lerna_ Lake +Would you be pleasd to man this willing barke +With good conceits of her intencion; +To store her with the thundring furniture +Of smoothest smiles, and pleasing plaudiats; +She shall be able to endure the shock +Of snarling _Zoylus_, and his cursed crue, +That seekes to sincke her in reproches waves; +And may perchance obteine a victorie +Gainst curious carpes, and fawning parasites: +But if you suffer her, for want of ayde, +To be orewhelmed by her insulting foes, +Oh then she sinckes, that meant to passe the flood +With stronger force to do her countrie good. +It resteth thus; whether she live or dye, +She is your Beades-man everlastinglie. + + +Finis--Rob. Yarington. + +_Laus Deo_ + + + + + + +INTRODUCTION TO THE CAPTIVES; OR, THE LOST RECOVERED. + + +In Sir Henry Herbert's MS. Office-Book, under date Sept. 3rd, 1624, is +the entry:--"for the Cock-pit Company[44] a new play called the Captive +[_sic_] or the Lost Recovered, written by Hayward," i.e., Heywood. The +lost recovered! Lost for two centuries and a half was this comedy of +dear Tom Heywood, until I recovered it from Egerton MS. 1994. I am proud +to have rendered this service to a gentle poet who has given me many +hours of delight. + +The play is without title or author's name in the MS. After reading the +first page I judged that the author was Heywood, and this impression was +soon confirmed beyond all doubt. In the MS. the present play is +immediately followed by a piece called _Calisto_, which consists of +scenes from Heywood's _Golden Age_ and _Silver Age_. I have elsewhere +mentioned (Vol. ii. p. 419) that _Calisto_ and _The Captives_ are +written in the same desperately difficult handwriting,--peculiar to +these two plays, and not found in any other part of the volume. There +can be no doubt that whoever transcribed _Calisto_ transcribed also _The +Captives_. But from internal evidence alone--putting aside the testimony +afforded by the handwriting, and ignoring the entry in Sir Henry +Herbert's Office-Book--any competent reader could plainly perceive that +the play is Heywood's. In the very first scene--in the conversation +between Treadway and Raphael--we feel at once the charm of that hearty +"Christianism" which is never absent from Heywood's work. There is no +affectation in Heywood; he is always natural and simple, though +occasionally the writing sprawls. + +Everybody knows the droll description in Heywood's _English Traveller_ +of the "Shipwreck by Drink,"[45]--how some unthrift youths, carousing +deeply, chanced to turn their talk on ships and storms at sea; whereupon +one giddy member of the company suddenly conceived that the room was a +pinnace, that the sounds of revelry were the bawlings of sailors, and +that his unsteady footing was due to the wildness of the tempest; the +illusion spread among his companions, and a scene of whimsical confusion +followed. In _The Captives_, ii. 2, we have a similar conceit +suggested:-- + + _Scrib_. Such was the grace heaven sent us, who from perill, + Danger of lyfe, the extreamest of all extreames + Hathe brought us to the happy patronage + Of this most reverent abbott. + + _Clowne_. What dangers? what extreames? + + _Scrib_. From the sea's fury, drowneing; for last night + Our shipp was splitt, wee cast upon these rocks. + + _Clowne_. Sayd in a jest, in deede! Shipwreck by land! I perceive + you tooke the woodden waggen for a ship and the violent rayne for + the sea, and by cause some one of the wheels broake and you cast + into some water plashe, you thought the shipp had splitt and you + had bene in danger of drowneinge. + +The main story of _The Captives_ is borrowed from Plautus's _Rudens_, +many passages being translated almost word for word. It will be +remembered that in the _English Traveller_ Heywood was indebted to +another of Plautus's plays--the _Mostellaria_. I have not been able to +discover the source of the very curious underplot of _The Captives_. + +The MS. from which the play is printed bears every appearance of being a +play-house copy. Numerous passages have been cancelled, seemingly (for +the most part) by the hand of some reviser. In most instances I have +restored the cancelled passages to the text--though the task of +deciphering them has been cruelly difficult. + + + + +THE CAPTIVES; OR, THE LOST RECOVERED. + +A Comedy by THOMAS HEYWOOD. + + +Licensed by Sir Henry Herbert in 1624, +and now first printed from Egerton MS. 1994. + + + + +_Actus primus_. + +SCENA PR. + + + _Enter Mr. Raphael a younge marchaunt, Mr. Treadway + his companione and frend_. + +_Raphael_. You talke to one thats deaf; I am resolv'd. + +_Treadway_. I knwe [_sic_] you are not of that stupid sence +But you will lyst to reason. + +_Raphael_. Alls but vayne. + +_Treadway_. You saye shees fayre. + +_Raphael_. And there-fore to bee lov'd. + +_Treadway_.[46] No consequent +To trust to collour. Are not the bewtyous lyllyes, +The gardens pryde and glorye of the feilds, +Thoughe to the eye fayre and delectable, +Yet ranke in smell? the stayneles swanne +With all the Oceans water cannot wash +The blacknes from her feete, tis borne with her. +Oft painted vessayles bringe in poysond cates, +And the blackest serpents weare the goldenst scales; +And woman, made mans helper at the fyrst, +Dothe oft proove his destroyer. + +_Raphael_. Saye perhapps +Some frend of yours miscarried in his choyse, +Will you condeme all women for that one? +Bycause we reade one _Lais_ was unchast, +Are all Corinthian Ladyes cortesans? +Shall I, bycause my neighbours house was burnt, +Condeme the necessary use of fyre? +One surfeitts, and shall I refuse to eate? +That marchant man by shipwreck lost his goodds; +Shall I, bycause hee perisht in the sea, +Abiure the gainfull trade of merchandyse, +Despoyle my shipps, and unbecom [?] the deepes +Of theire fayre Sayles and tackles? + +_Treadway_. Not so, frend.[47] +Althoughe her person may perhapps content, +Consider but the place. + +_Raphael_. I knwe it badd, +Nay woorst of Ills. + +_Treadway_. A howse of prostitution +And common brothellrie. + +_Raphael_. Which coold not stand +But that her vertue guards it and protects it +From blastinges and heavens thunders. There shee lyves +Lyke to a ritche and pretious Jewell lost, +Fownd shyninge on a doonge-hill, yet the gemme +No wyse disparadged of his former worthe +Nor bated of his glory; out of this fyre +Of lust and black temptation sheis [_sic_] returned +Lyke gold repur'd and tryde. + +_Treadway_. Of what byrthe is shee? + +_Raphael_. Unknwne to mee or any: shee protests, +Neye to her self; what neede I question that? +Sure sutche sweete features, goodnes, modesty +Such gentlenes, such vertue cannot bee +Deryvd from base and obscure parentadge. + +_Treadway_. Whats then your end and purpose? + +_Raphael_. To redeeme her +Out of this gayle of sinne and leprosye, +This mart of all diseases, where shee lyves +Still under the comande and Tyrany +Of a most base hee-bawde: about which busines +Wee have allready traffict. + +_Treadway_. Well, if so, +And to dispose her elsewhere to her goodd, +Provided still that vertue be your ayme, +I cannot but commende your charity +And to my power I'l seeke to further it. + +_Raphael_. You so intyre mee to you. Within theire! + + _Enter the Clowne_. + +_Clowne_. Within theire is nowe without heare: your worshipps pleasure? + +_Raphael_. Hye to the next key and inquire for one cald Seignior +_Mildewe_ and resolve him from mee that I have kept apointment: the +somms redy and present to bee tendred. + +_Clowne_. Who? the _Frenshe_ monster,[48] _Neapolitan_ Seignor, the +man-makarel[49] and marchant of madens-fleshe that deales altogether +in flawed ware and crackt comodityes? the bawdy broker, I meanes, +where a man for his dollers may have choyse of diseases, and som tymes +the pox too, if hee will leeve beehind him a good pawne for it. + +_Raphael_. How thou drummst. + +_Clowne_. Marry qothe hee. So I may happen to bringe it awaye in my +nose. Well I smell some bawdy business or other in hand. They call this +place _Marcellis_ Roade, the cheiff haven towne in _France_, but hee +keepes a road[50] in his oune howse wherein have ridd and bin ridd more +leakinge vessayles, more panderly pinks,[51] pimps and punkes, more +rotten bottoms ballanst, more fly-boates[52] laden and unladen every +morninge and evenning tyde then weare able to fill the huge greate baye +of _Portingall_. Is this all, syr? + +_Raphael_. Yes all, and heares the somme. + +_Clowne_. A small somme of that is worthe all the busines that I am +sent about, for the all in all on't is I am afrayde that all will +proove woorthe nothinge. + +_Treadway_. And yet mee thinkes ere folly you conclude +You should a little stagger. + +_Raphael_. Should? wherein? + +_Treadway_. For many reasons: Il alleadge som fewe. +Who knwes but this your fayre and seeminge saynt, +Thoughe disposd well and in her owne condition +Of promisinge goodnes, yet livinge in the seminary +Of all libidinous actions, spectars, sights, +Even in the open market where sinne's sould +Where lust and all uncleanes are commerst +As freely as comodityes are vended +Amongst the noblest marchants,--who I saye +So confident that dare presume a virgin +Of such a soft and maiden temperature, +Deyly and howerly still sollicited +By gallants of all nations, all degrees, +Allmost all ages, even from upright youth +To the stoopinge and decrepitt-- + +_Raphael_. Heare mee nowe. + +_Treadway_. Two woords and I have doone: the place considered, +The basenes of the person under whome +Shee lyves opprest, a slave of sordid lyfe, +Conditiond with the devill, temptinge still +Sometymes by fayre means, then againe by foul, +To prostitute her for his servyle gaynes; +And next the dissolute crewe with which shees hows'd +Ech night, ech deye perswedinge boathe with toonge +And lewde example; all these circonstances +Duly considered, I shoold dowbt at least, +If not presume, the woorst. + +_Raphael_. Oh you have pleasd mee, +And in proposinge all these difficultyes +Given of her graces ample testimony. +Shee is that miracle, that only one +That cann doo these; wear't comon in the sexe +Twold not appeare to mee so admirable; +It is for these I love her. + +_Treadway_. You are resolvd +And I'l not staye your purpose. + + _Enter the Clowne with Mildewe and Sarleboys his + guest and frende_. + +_Clowne_. I have brought this flesh-fly whome as soone as the butchers +wyves sawe comminge throwghe the shambles, they all of them stood with +theire flapps in theire hands like fanns. I, demandinge the reason itt +was answerd me againe itt was to keepe away his infectious breath least +it should fill theire meate with fly-blowes. + +_Raphael_. Well, mett, good Mr. _Mildewe_. + +_Mildewe_. My returne +Of your salutes I cast belowe your feete. + +_Raphael_. Syr, I am yours to treade on. You will then +Stand to your former bargen? + +_Mildewe_. I weare else +Not woorthy to bee stil'd what I am tearmd, +A trewe venereall broaker. + +_Clowne_. That's in _Italian_ +A damnable hee bawde. + +_Mildewe_ Y'have such a bargen +Marcellis, nor all France, shall yeild the like. +Tis such a deynty peece of purity +Such a coy thinge that[53] hee unto whose lott +She shall hereafter fall may boast himself +To bee a happy husband. For our trade +Shees out at that: neather promises, rewards, +Example or Intreaty, fayre, fowle meanes, +Gaine present or the hope of future goodd, +Can force from her a presens; then much lesse +A frendly prostitution. + +_Raphael_. Hearst thou this? + +_Treadway_. Yes[54] and comende it in her, if that toonge, +Even from his fyrst of speakinge traind to lye, +Can now at lengthe speake truth. + +_Clowne_. Ay theres the dowbt. + +_Sarly_. This too yeares I have quested to his howse, +And knwe all this most certeine. + +_Raphael_. Witnes too. + +_Mildewe_. I doo protest she spoyles my family +And rather growne a hyndrance to my trade +Then benefitt; so that, if not to losse, +I wishe that I were clerly ridd of her, +For shee hathe gott a trick to[55] my whores; +And such as of themselves are impudent, +When shee but coms in presens she makes blushe, +As if ashamd of what they late had doon +Or are about to doo. + +_Clowne_. Well sayde, ould sinner. + +_Raphael_. See, heeres the sum, 3 hundred crownes. + +_Mildewe_. O'th somme. + +_Raphael_. All currant and full weight. + +_Mildewe_. I'l fetch my doughter +That hath no lightnes in her, currant too +As any lasse i'th cittye. + +_Raphael_. _Mildewe_, staye. + +_Clowne_. Staye, oh thou father of fornication and marchant of nothinge +but mesteryes and mischeife; whele about, thou dung[c]art of diseases; +sayle this way thoue galley foyst[56] of galls and garbadge! Dost not +heare my master? staye! + +_Mildewe_. Why, did his worshippe call? + +_Clowne_. Didst thou not heare him call, and mee cry out upon thee? + +_Mildewe_. His pleasure then? + +_Raphael_. I have bethought mee better nowe to keepe +This business secrett, least it chance to arryve +To th'eares of some of my most noble frends; +And not to make it publicke and this honest +Purpose of myne by that meanes misreated,[57] +Heare lett her stay till night bycause I am loath +In th'eye of day to move her through the streetes. + +_Mildewe_. Good, syr. + +_Raphael_. Nwe [Now] in the villaige by, that fronts the sea, +Som halff league off where stands the monastery, +I have bespoake a place to sojorn her. +There I this evening do intend[58] a feast +Where only wee and som fewe private frends +Have purpost to bee jhoviall. To that place +I prithee, with what pryvacy thou canst, +Conduct her and so add unto our guests. + +_Mildewe_. The place I knwe, the tyme is perfect with mee, +And for the feast you saye you have prepared +I shall provyde a stomacke. + +_Raphael_. Her caskett, and such other necessaryes +Included in our bargen, bring alonge +Or lett her mayde do'ot for thee. + +_Mildewe_. I'l not bate her +A ruff or ragge; no pinne that's usefull too her +Will I keepe backe. + +_Raphael_. To this you are witnes, frend. + +_Treadway_. I am, Syr. + +_Mildewe_. So's my guest. + +_Clowne_. And lookes as if with me +Hee only could write witlesse. + +_Raphael_. Supper tyme +You will remember, _Mildewe_. + +_Mildewe_. Possible +I should forgett to eate of others' cost? +It never was my custom. + +_Clowne_. Choake you for't. + +_Raphael_. Come, frend, mee thinks I have doone a deede this day +Crownes all my better actions, for I have raised +An Innocent from the hands of an Infidell agent. + +_Clowne_. Farewell, rott, farewell murreine, adiewe. + +_Mildewe_. Farewell till soone. + + [_Exeunt Raphael, Treadway, and Clowne_. + +_Sarleb_. And do you meane to keepe your promisse then, +And doo as you have sayde? + +_Mildewe_. Why not, I prithee? +What else canst thou advyse mee? + +_Sarleb_. Are not wee +Boathe of a rotten conscience, men debosht, +Secluded from the company of such +As either are or else would stryve to bee +Reputed honest? wherefore then should wee +Keepe tutche with any that professe themselves +Not to bee of our ranke? + +_Mildewe_. Proceede, good frend: +Thou hast putt project in my brayne allredy, +Small tyme woold better fashion. + +_Sarleb_. What if I +Laye such a plotte that you shall gayne these crownes +These full three hundred to your proper use, +And of these peevishe harletryes at home +Make a much greater market? + +_Mildewe_. Marry, syr, +That were a tale worth listeninge. + +_Sarleb_. These crowns +Are all your owne in your possession, +So are the maydes. I knowe you ritche besydes +In coyne and jewells; heere you lyve despysed, +And whats this clime to us of more esteme +Then any forreine region? whores and bawdes +May lyve in every corner of the woorld, +We knowe tis full of sinners. This, this day +Letts hyre a bark; wee dwell upon the haven, +And instantly 'tis done. Shipp all your goods +With these shee-chatteyles; putt this night to sea-- +England they saye is full of whormasters; +There will bee vent for such comoditye, +There strompett them where they (you saye) weare born, +Else you in _Spayne_ may sell them to the stewes, +_Venyce_ or any place of _Italy_; +They are everywhere good chaffer. If not these, +What saye you to _Morocho, Fesse, Algiers_? +Faith these are wares in all parts vendible, +No matter thoughe to _Turke_ and infidell, +So itt bringe gayne and profitt. + +_Mildewe_. Lett me hugg thee +For this, deare frend; heareafter I will style thee +My better genius; thou hast monied mee in this, +Nay landed me, made me thy braynes executor, +And putt mee in a lardge possession. +Go hyre a barke. + +_Sarlab_. I shall. + +_Mildewe_. And instantly. + +_Sarlab_. I shall. + +_Mildewe_. Ere night wee'l putt into a sea +No larger then our full stretcht consciences. +Lett mee once more Imbrace thee. + [_Exeunt_. + + +SCENA 2. + + _Enter an Abbot with his covent[59] of Fryars, amongst + them Fryar Jhon, and Fryar Ritchard_. + +_Abbot_. As I have heare priority of place, +Boathe by our patrons favour and your voyce, +So give me leave to arbitrate amongst you. + +_Fr. Jhon_. Without respect of person wee acknowledge you. +Our prince and cheiff. + +_Fr. Rich_. And to your fatherly +And grave advyse humbly submitt our selves. + +_Abbot_. Knwe then in this small covent, which consysts +Only of 12 in nomber, fryars I meane +And us the Abbat, I have fownde amongst you +Many and grosse abuses; yet for the present +I will insist on fewe. Quarrells, debates, +Whisperinge, supplantinges, private calumnyes, +These ought not bee in such a brotherhood. +Of these Fryar _Jhon_ and thou Fryar _Richard_ are +Accused to bee most guilty, ever jarring +And opposite to peace. + +_Fr. Jhon_. The faults in him. + +_Fr. Rich_. As in all other thinges, so even in this +Hee still is apt to wronge mee. + +_Fr. Jhon_. Hee that fyrst gives th'occation, fyrst complaines: +It ever was his fashion. + +_Fr. Rich_. Never myne: +I appeale to the whole covent. + +_Abbot_. Mallyce rooted, +I finde, is woondrous hard to bee supprest. +But knwe where consell and advise preveyle not, +The fayrest meanes that I can wourk your peace, +I'l take upon mee my authority, +And where I finde in you the least contempt +I shall severely punishe. + +_Fr. Jhon_. I submitt. + +_Fr. Rich_. I yeeld myself to your grave fatherhood. + +_Abbot_. Consider, sonnes, this cloystered place of ours +Is but newe reared; the founder, hee still lyves, +A souldier once and eminent in the feild, +And after many battayles nowe retyrd +In peace to lyve a lyff contemplative. +Mongst many other charitable deedes, +Unto religion hee hathe vowed this howse, +Next to his owne fayre mantion that adjoynes +And parted only by a slender wall. +Who knwes but that hee neighboring us so neare +And havinge doone this unto pious ends, +May carry over us and our behavioures +An austere eye of censure? + +_Fr. Jhon_. Fitt therefore +Wee should bee in our actions cautelous.[60] + +_Fr. Rich_. And carefull least wee may incurr displeasure +Of such a noble patron. + +_Abbot_. Well observ'd. +His bewtious Lady-- + +_Fr. Jhon_. A sweete soule indeede. + +_Fr. Rich_. On whom Fryar _Jhon_ casts many a leering eye: +I have observd that too. + +_Abbot_. Boath for her outward feature +And for her inward graces excellent +Beyond compare, shee lykewyse is to us +A worthy benefactor. + +_Fr. Rich_. Tis confest. + +_Fr. Jhon_. Would I might com to bee her confessor: +It is a fayre sweete lady. + +_Fr. Rich_.[61] Howe the lecher +Hugges at the very name. + +_Abbot_. Morninge and eveninge +They deyly com to mattens and to evensonge; +Such and so greate is theire devotion. +That, if not crasd or feylinge in theire healthe, +They do not misse us any hower of prayer; +And therefore it behooves us all in generall +To sett a carefull watche upon our deedes, +Least we that are proffest religious +Bee in the least deffective. + +_Fr. Richard_. Noate, Fryar _Jhon_, +Howe hee makes anticke faces and in scorne +Of this your reverent counsell. + +_Fr. Jhon_. I, alas? +A weaknes from my childhood, I confesse, +I ever had and cannott helpe it nowe, +To have a trobled countenance. I make mouthes? +This (most observed father) but approoves +My innosens and his envye. Markt you that? +Fryar _Richard_ bent his fyst and threatned mee. +I call all these to witnesse. + +_Fr. Rich_. No such thinge. +I have a crampe oft takes me in this hand +And makes mee weare clutcht ringers, and that passion +Now came upon mee; but for meanacinge him +It ever was farr from mee. This but showes +His owld inveterate mallice, which in charity +I wishe might heare lye buried.--Syrrah, anon +I'l have you by the eares. + +_Fr. Jhon_. Doo if thou darst; +We'll tugge it out by the teeth. + +_Fr. Rich_. Meete me i'th orchard +Just after even song. + +_Fr. Jhon_. I will make short prayers +Bycause I'l keepe appointment. + +_Abbot_. I am playne +And breife with all: eather betwixt you too [_sic_] +Make frendly reconsilement, and in presence +Of this your brotherhood (for what is fryar +But _frater_, and that's brother?), or my selfe +Out of my power will putt you to a penance +Shall make you in one weeke fyve fasting-dayes. + +_Fr. Jhon_. Oh terrible! + +_Abbot_. Or, if that will not tame you, +I will complayne to'th fownder of your loosenes, +Your riotts, and disorders, and petition +That you, as sowers off seditious hatred[62] +And sole disturbers of our common peace, +Maye bee excluded this society, +Banisht by common barre-law, and shutt out +To publick shame and beggerye. + +_Fr. Rich_. Horrible! + +_Fr. Jhon_. Fyrst then to showe my submisse willingnes +And forwardnes withall: with as much charity +As any new reformed man maye doo, +I with a zeale and hart new reconsiled +Thus humbly begge his love. +(Y'are a rogue, _Ritchard_.) + +_Fr. Rich_. To meete his trewe +And most unfeigned affection, heare in face +And viewe of this our holly brotherhoode, +As if in open coort with this mi[63] breath +I heare confine all hatred. +(_Jhon_, y'are a Jack sauce, I meane a sawcye Jacke.) + +_Fr. Jhon_. The orchard. + +_Fr. Rich_. Theare. + +_Abbot_. Why, this is as it should bee, and becomes +A trew religious order. Such as are sequestred +And vowed unto a strict monasticke lyfe, +Ought to putt off these grosse and prophane sinnes +Most frequent amongst laye-men. Unity, +Due conformation and fraternall love. +Devotion, hott zeale, and obediens; these +Are vertues that become a cloyster best. +Nowe lett's retyre unto our oresons +And p[r]eye for our good fownders; may they still +Grow to our wishe and thryve to theire owne will. + + [_Exeunt all but Friar Jhon_. + +_Fr. Jhon_. More then I woold to have my wishe on thee, +_Richard_, though I have a good stomacke too't, +Ey, and to baste thee sowndly, I woold nowe +To have my will one her. Tis a sweete creature; +Our patron owld, shee younge; som hope in that. +Besydes, shee's woondrous kind and affable; +And when we duck or congee, smiles as if +Shee tooke som pleasure in our shaven crownes. +I am the fyrst that every morninge, when +Shee passes through the cloyster to her prayers, +Attend her with good morrowe, pray for her health. +For her content and pleasure, such as canott bee +Hop't or expected from her husband's age; +And these my frendly wishes she returnes +Not only in kind language but sweete smiles, +The least of which breede som Incoradgement. +I will, if shee persist to proove thus kind, +If not to speeke my thoughts, to wryte my mynd. + + [_Exit_. + + + +SCENA TERTIA. + + + _Thunder_. + + _Enter after a greate Tempestuous storme Mr. Ashburne + an Englishe marchant and his man Godfrey_. + +_Ashburne_. Was ever knowne such a tempestuous night +Of thunder, hayle, wynd, lightninge! Twas as if +The fower seditious brothers threatned warr +And weare but nowe at battayle. + +_Godfrey_. The fower winds you meane; blusteringe fellowes they are. +Preye God all be well at sea, for I am sure the roofes tyles and +ridges have payde for it a shewer.[64] + +_Ashb_. The very rafters of the howses bend; +Some breake and are demolisht; barnes blowne downe; +The very chimneyes rattle ore our heads; +The strongest buildinges tremble just as if +Theire is above a tempest, so belowe +There weare a fearefull earth-quake. + +_Godfrey_. All our howses +Are nothinge nowe but windowes, broad bay windowes +So spatious that carts laded may drive throughe +And neather loush oth' topp or eathere syde. +Lights every where, we shall have lightnes inoughe: +Heares stupid woork for daubers! + +_Ashburne_. We are forct +All to forsake the villaige and to fly +Unto the feilds for succor. + +_Godfrey_. Syr, it putt me +In minde of the greate King _Agathocles_, +Who was, as I have heard you oft relate, +Brain'd with a Tyle. Why may not meaner men +Then feare the fall of brick batts? + + _Enter Raphael, Treadway, and the Clowne_. + +_Treadway_. A strange night +And full of terror; yet, thanks heaven, well past. + +_Raphael_. Oh, but I feare the greater storms to come, +A gust that will more shake mee. + +_Clowne_. More, quothe hee; I can scarce see howe that well can bee, +for I can assure you the garrett that I laye in putt mee in mind of +myne infancye, for I lye all the night longe as if I had bin rockt +in a cradle. + +_Raphael_. Oh, frend, I feare this false and perjur'd slave, +That hathe not kept apointment, hath deceiv'd mee +Boathe of my coyne and pretious marchandyse. + +_Clowne_. Did you ever looke for better from a Judas [?] of his +he[yre]?[65] + +_Raphael_. Which if hee have-- + +_Clowne_. Why then hee hathe, and the mends is in y'r owne hands: +that's all that I can say too't. + +_Raphael_. Hee hathe undone mee dubly. + +_Treadway_. Hope the best. +Perhapps the threatninge weather kept him backe: +Itt was a trobled skye, the soon set blusheing, +The rack cam swiftly rushing from the west; +And these presadges of a future storme, +Unwillinge for to trust her tendernes +Unto such feares, might make him fayle his hower; +And yet with purpose what hee slack't last night +Howe to make goodd this morninge. + +_Raphael_. Oh you tent[66] +My woonds too gently, dally with my dowbts +And flutter my trewe feares: the even was calme, +The skye untrobled, and the soon went downe +Without disturbance in a temperate ayr. +No, not the least conjecture coold be made +Of such a suddeine storme, of which the woorld +Till after midnight was not sensible. +His hower was supper, and in faylinge that-- + +_Clowne_. Ey, nowe begin I to feare too for thee. Breake his woord if +it bee to com to dinner or supper! I'l never trust his bond for the +valewe of a threepenny ordenarye after. + +_Raphael_. Post you back to the citty; make inquiries +And most strickt search to find that _Mildewe_ out; +Whom if you meete, fyrst rate his last neclect, +Then hasten his repayer. Heare you shall finde mee +Or in the waye home; for in all this villaige +I woll not leave a howse, a place unsearcht. +If where hee dwells you misse him, then demande +Att every bey what shippinge late went out. +If any vowed love still remane betwixt us, +Make it appear nowe in your present care +And expedition. + +_Treadw_. I'l be your _Mercury_, +Not fayle you in the least. + +_Raphael_. And so betwixt us +Increase a frendshipp that was never flawed. + + [_Exit[67] Treadway_. + +_Ashburne_. This gentleman, itt seemes, hathe in this tempest +Sustein'd som losse, he appears so much disturb'd. + +_Clowne_. See, syr, heare are some it may bee beelonge to this +villadge; you had best aske of them. + +_Raphael_. And well advysed. Hayle, father! + +_Godfrey_. No more hayle if you love mee; we had too much of that +last night. + +_Ashburne_. Of what sexe are you that you call me so? +I have bene father of a doughter once, +Though not these many yeares blest with her sight, +But of a soone yet never. + +_Raphael_. What you have lost +May you in som most fayer and fortunate hower +Againe find to your comfort. + +_Ashburne_. You wishe well. + +_Raphael_. Sawe you not bowte this villadge late last night, +Or early now i'th morninge, a short fellowe +Thin heyred, flat nosed, sand-bearded and squint eyde? + +_Clowne_. The mapp of misfortune and very picture of ill luck. + +_Raphael_. Grosse-wasted, gowty-legg'd. + +_Clowne_. Whose face is puft up like a bladder and whose belly +lyke a toonne. + +_Raphael_. Owld, graye and hoary. + +_Clowne_. And withall cheatinge, cousininge, and crafty; a remarkable +raskall, a damnable deceiver, and a most substantiall cinner. + +_Ashburne_. By such I have much suffred in my state, +Opprest almost to utmost penury +In my once better fortune; but so late +I sawe not any such. + +_Raphael_. Hee was expected +To bee attended by too [_sic_] handsome gurles, +Boathe younge, boathe fayre, but th'one unparreld [_sic_]; +Neather of which by computation +Hathe told so hye as twenty. + +_Ashb_. If such I chance to meete by accident +I'l send you notyce. Please you leave your name +And place of your abode. + +_Raphael_. _Raphael_ I am cald, +A marchant in _Marcellis_, and my lodginge +Is at the _Parratt_ in the markett-place; +There you shall finde mee knowne. + +_Ashb_. And by that name +Presume I'l not forgett you. + +_Raph_. For which curtesy, +Fare you well, syr; +You shall oblighe mee to you. If not heare +Weele seeke her further; _France_ shall not conteine them +But I will finde theire start-holes. + +_Ashb_. Good speede with you. + +_Clowne_. If I weare a dogge nowe and coold hunt dry foote[68] +I could smell them out presently. + + [_Exeunt[69] Raphael and Clown_. + +_Ashb_. Come lett us mount ourselfes upon these rockes +And, havinge feelinge of our hurts at land, +Letts see what shyppes have ben distrest at sea, +If any shaken in this storme or wreckt; +And though wee cannot help the miserable +Yet lett them taste our pittye. + +_Godfrey_. Sir, content; but I hope your fishermen have not putt to +sea this night. If they have I sweare they have showed themselves +much madder then the tempest. + +_Ashb_. I hope they have bin more discreate and wyse +Then with the hazard of my boates and netts +To indanger theire owne lyves. + +_Godfr_. See: do you see, Syr? + +_Ashb_. What? + +_Godfr_. Why, yonder. + +_Ashb_. Where? + +_Godfr_. There towards yon shore. + +_Ashb_. A shipp laboringe for liffe +Nowe cast upon the rocks, nowe splitt, nowe sinkinge, +Nowe dasht to peeces. + +_Godfr_. I see all mischeifes do not com by land, +Som's doone upon the water. + +_Ashb_. Though theire goodes perishe, +Yet in thy mercy, heaven, protect theire lyves. +Som sitt upon the planks, som on the masts, +Som hange upon the cables, and som few +Have only gott the cock-boat; others swimme. +Oh that wee shoold beehold theire misery +And want power to assiste them! + +_Godfr_. Sure, syr, it was som shipp of passengers, +For see you not too women? daynty ducks! +Would they coold swime as ducks can, see how they spread +And cast theire legges abroad lyke naked frogges! +See howe they spread theire armes and stryve for lyfe! +I[70] would I weare som Dolphin or some whayle +That they might sitt astryde upon my backe +To beare them safe ashore; but I as yet +Could neare indure still water. See yet still, +Still theire coates beare them upp, keepe them aloft; +The modest ayer not willinge to discover +That which the bawdy waves shame not belowe +Rudely to lifte and handle. + +_Ashb_. Blesse them heaven! +The wind and tyde still beate them towards the shore, +But oh that cursed billowe hath devyded +And parted them asunder. Yet all's well; +They still beare upp. If they but scape the next +There may bee hope of safetye. + +_Godfr_. One's driven this way, +The tother that; the men shift for themselves, +Howe shall we save thes women? + +_Ashb_. No meanes unlesse we leape downe from the rockes, +And that's meare desperation. Yet to showe +Our charityes to wretches thus extreame, +Lett's see if wee can find the least descent +And hasten to theire suckor. + +_Godfr_. By your favour, +I had rather they with brine shoold break their bellys +Then I my neck with clamberinge. + + _Explicit Actus primus_. + + + + +_Actus 2_. + +SCENA PRIMA. + + + _Storme continewed. Enter Palestra all well, as newly + shipwreckd and escapt the fury of the seas_. + +_Palestra_.[71] Is this then the reward of Innocense, +Of goodness to our selfes, namely chast lyfe, +Pietye to our parents, love to all, +And above all our Christian zeale towardes heaven? +But why shoold wee poore wretches thus contest +Against the powers above us, when even they +That are the best amongst us are servd badd? +Alas, I never yet wrongd man or child, +Woman or babe; never supplanted frend +Or sought revendge upon an enemy. +You see yet howe we suffer; howe shall they then +That false their faythes, that are of uncleane lyfe +And then not only sinne unto them selves +But tempt and persuade others? what shall I thinke +Becoms of my base guardian? though the waves +Have spared the guiltles, sure his putrid s[oule][72] +Cannot escape heavens justyce! wee poor wretches +Are punishe [_sic_] for his grosse impietyes, +They mov'd heavens wrathe, who stir'd the winds and waves +Stryvinge whose fury should destroy us fyrst. +These boathe conspyringe in our ruinne, th'one +Beate us belowe the billowes whilst the other +Swallowed boathe shippe and goodes; [amongst] the rest +A[73] budget or portmantau which includes +All the bawdes wealth. But that weare nothinge to mee +Though he had vowed and sworne to make mee his heyer; +The losse I so lament is a small caskett +Kept by him from my childhood, and packt up +Amongst his treasure; and that perishinge, +I forfett the longe expectation +Ever to knowe my parents, therefore wishe +With it I had i'th sea been buried. + + _Enter Scribonia_. + +_Scrib_. With perill of oft fallinge and the danger +Of second deathe, having new scapt the fyrst, +I have with feare and terror clim'd these rocks, +And these too past I feare to meete a thyrd. +I spy no howse, no harbor, meete no creature +To point mee to some shelter; therefore heare +Must starve by famine or expire by could. +O'th sea the whystlinge winds still threaten wreckes, +And flyinge nowe for refuge to the lande +Find nought save desolation. Thoughe these three, +Three dreadfull deaths all spare mee, yeat a fowerth, +I cannot shoone [shun] in my _Palestras_ losse, +More[74] deare to mee then all the world besides, +For the best blood of myne runns in her veynes, +This lyfe breath in her bosom. Oh my _Palestra_! + +_Palestr_. Numnes and feare, hungar and sollitude, +Besydes my casket, my _Scribonia's_ losse, +All these at once afflict mee. + +_Scrib_. Notheinge mee +More than _Palestra's_ deathe. Ha, who's that spake? +Suer twas som womans voyce! if my _Palestra_ +Only for her sake I coulde wishe to live. + +_Pal_. Then lyve, my deere _Scribonia_, synce I am only +Spar'd to partake with thee newe miseryes. + +_Scrib_. Scarce can I bee perswaded you are shee: +But, bee yt but her shadowe, give mee leave +For her remembrance to imbrace it thus. + +_Palest_. These armes at once locke all my lyvinge hopes +In my restored _Scribonia_. + +_Scrib_. Nowe I perceave +My comfort is not meare imaginary +But reall and effectuall. Lyve you then? + +_Pal_. To triumphe in your safety. + +_Scrib_. Possible +That mongst these desert unfrequented rocks +Thou can imadgine such a thing can be +As that which you call safety? + +_Pal_. Yes, _Scribonia_, +And comfort too; for, see, I spy a villadge, +A maner and a fayre built monastery, +Just at the foott of this descendeinge hill. +And where, if not amongst religious men, +Shoold we find that's calld charity? + +_Scrib_. Thether, then: +Lett[75] us make hast with all the speede we can: +Fyre at the least I hope it [is?] well assured, +Besydes releiffe and harbor. + +_Pal_. Can you begge? + +_Scrib_. What will not rude necessity compell +Distressed folke to doo? We'll not doo't basely, +For beinge brought upp to musick and to sing, +Demandinge in that kind there charity, +And they perceivinge us much better bred +Then these our present fortunes might deserve, +May move in them compassions. + +_Pal_. Lett's retyre +To the backe gate then, there complane our wants +And that which others doo with impudence +Lett us in shame and blushes. + +_Scrib_. Som sweete echo +Speake from these walls and answer to our wants, +And eather lend som comfort to our grieffs +Or send us hence dispayringe and asham'd. + + [_They go in_. + +_Pal_. _Oh charity where art thou fled, +And nowe how longe hast thou been dead? + +Answer within. Oh many many many hundred yeares + +Scrib. In villadge, borrough, towne or citty +Remaines there yet no grace, no pitty? + +Answ. Not in sighes, not in want, not in teares. + +Pal. Cold comfort in this answer; but proceede. + +Above. we see a threatninge skye. + +Answ. Beelowe the winds and gusts blowe hye, +And all all to fright hence this same juell. + +Scrib. The lightninges blast, the thunders cracke, +The billows menace nought save wracke. + +Answ. And yet man is then these much more crewell. + +Pal. Unless my judgment quite miscarry, +Shee may lyve in som monastery. + +Answ. Tis a place too that was fyrst assigned her. + +Scrib. If not amongst religious men, +Yett where, where shall wee seeks her then? + +Answ. Yet even there, there, you scarce scarce can find her. + +Pal. If chastity and Innocens tryde +Have boathe escaped wind and tyde-- + +Answ. Yet oh why should the land, land these cherish? + +Scrib. Of whome even billowes have a care, +Whom seas preserve, whom tempests spare-- + +Answ. Yet these these amongst men may perishe._ + +_Pal_. Uncharitable echo! from a place +Of pure devotion canst thou answer that? +If not in these religious monasteries, +In what place can we find could charity? + +_Scrib_. Where ere wee meete her shee is lyke our selfes, +Bare, without harbor, weake and comfortles. + + _Enter Fryer John_. + +_Fr. Jhon_. What singeinge beggers were those at the gate +That would so early rowse our charity, +Before it was half styrringe or awake? + + _Enter Fryer Richard_. + +I thinke I answerd them in such a way +As I beleeve scarce pleas'd them. + +_Fr. Rich_. What sweete musick +Was that at the back gate hath cald mee upp +Somwhat before my hower? + +_Fr. Jhon_. Morrow, fryar _Richard_: +Howe did you lyke our last night's buffetinge? +Whilst all the rest of our fraternity +In feare of that greate tempest weare att prayers, +Wee too pickt out that tyme of least suspition +And in the orchard hand to hand weare att it. + +_Fr. Rich_. Tis trew for blooddy noses; and, Fryar _Jhon_, +As you lyke that which is allredy past +So chalendge mee hereafter. But whence cam +Those sweete and delicate voyces? + +_Fr. Jhon_. I bare part +In theire sadd quire though none of these yet knw't. +But peace: our Father Abbat. + + _Enter the Abbot with other fryars_. + +_Abbott_. Morrow, soonns, +An early blessinge on you, if as the larke +Rysen beetymes still to salute the soon, +So your devotion pluckes you from your bedds +Beefore your hower unto your orisons. +Did you not heare a musicall complaynt +Of women that in sadd and mournefull tones +Bewayld theire late disasters, harshly answerd +By a churlish echo? + +_Fr. Jhon_. Som such thinge wee heard. + +_Fr. Rich_. The noates still persist with mee. + +_Pal_. There appeares +In his grave lookes bothe zeele and charity; +Letts to his sight boldly expose ourselfes. +Hayle, reverent father! + +_Abbot_. What are you poore soules +Thus wett and wether-bitt? + +_Scrib_. Ere you demand +Further from us, letts tast your Christian charity, +Som fyare, som harbor, least ere our sadd tale +Bee fully tould wee perishe. + +_Abbot_. Why, whence came you? + +_Pal_. From sea; our shipp last night in the great storme +Cast on these rocks and split; this the fyrst place +Exposed unto our eyes to begge releiff. +But oh I faynt. + +_Abbot_. Some[76] faggotts instantly: +Hott brothes, hott water for them, and warme cloathes. +Whome the high powers miraculously preserve, +Whome even the merciles waves have borne ashore, +Shall we soe sinke a land? Even wee our selfes +That lyve and eate by others charity, +To others shall not wee bee charitable? +All succor, all supply that can be given, +They from our hands shall tast. + +_Fr. Jhon_. Shall we remove them +Into the cloyster? + +_Fr. Rich_. Tis agaynst our oath +On any, though the great'st, extremity +To addmitt women thether. + +_Abbot_. That I knowe: +Yet in som out-office see them chear'd, +Want nothinge that the cloyster can affourd. +Theire bewtyes, though my eye be bleynd at them, +Deserve no lesse; I looke on theire distresse +And that I pitty. Ech one lend a hand +To take off from theire present misery +And ease theire tender shoulders; when they are cheer'd +And better comforted, I'l finde occatione +To enquire further from them. + +_Pal_. Heaven be as kind +To you as you to us! + +_Abb_. Feare not fayre damselles: +This place, though not within the monastery, +Yet stands within the cloysters previledge +And shallbee unto you a sanctuary. + +_Scrib_. No other wee expect it. + +_Abb_. Guide them in: [_Bell ring_. +Bewty and youthe to pitty 'tis no sinne. + + _The bell ringes to mattens. Enter the Lord de Averne + and his Lady. Dennis and others_. + +_Fr. Jhon_. Harke, the bell ringes to mattens. + +_Fr. Rich_. See withall +Our noble patron with his lovely lady +Prepare for theire devotion. Nowe, Friar _Jhon_, +Your letcherous eye is conninge. + +_Fr. Jhon_. I knowe my place. + +_Abbott_. Way for our noble founder! + +_L. Aberne_. Morrowe, father; +So to the rest of all the brotherhood. + + [_The quire and musick; the fryars make a lane + with ducks and obeysance_. + +_Voyces. Te tuosque semper, oh semper beamus, +Et salvos vos venisse, o venisse gaudeamus._ + +_Fr. Jhon_. Good daye to our fayre foundresse! + +_Lady_. Mercy, Fryar _Jhon_; +Above the rest you are still dutifull, +For which wee kindly thanke you. + + [_Exeunt: manet Jhon_. + +_Fr. Jhon_. Kindly thanke you! +Nay, smyld withall! allthough that I have more +Then a monthes mind[77] to these younge harletryes +Yet heares the grownd on which I fyrst must build +And ryse my fortunes many steepes[78] hye. +Nay, I perhapps, ere they can drye there smocks, +Will putt th'affayre in motion, whyle these are +Att solleme mattens. I'l take pen and wryte, +And sett my mind downe in so quaint a strayne +Shall make her laughe and tickle, whylst I laughe +And tickle with the thought on't, still presuminge +These lookes, these smyles, these favours, this sweete language +Could never breathe, butt have theire byrthe from love. +But how to ha'tt delivered? there's the dowbt. +Tush I have plott for that too; hee, no questione, +That sett mee on to compasse this my will, +May when the up-shoote comes assist mee still. + + [_Exit_. + + + +SCENA 2. + + [_Tempest. Thunder_. + + _Enter 2 Fishermen_. + +_1st Fish_. The trobled sea is yet scarce navigable +Synce the last tempest: yet wee that only lyv +By our owne sweatt and labour, nor cann eate +Beffore[79] wee fetch our foode out of the sea, +Must ventur thoughe with daunger or bee suer +With empty stomakes go unsupt to bed. + +_2nd Fish_. And so it often happens. + +_1 Fish_. See the cordaige +Be stronge and tight, the netts with all theire stringes, +Plometts, and corks, well plac't for hookes and bates, +This daye wee shall have little use of them: +The wind's still hye, beare but a gentle sayle +And hazard not the channele. Keepe alonge +Close by the shoare, the rocks will shelter us +And may perhapps affoord us lobsters, praunes, +Shrimps, crabbes, and such lyke shell fishe; hence[80] we may +Hunt the sea urchen, and with safety too; +There's many holde hime for a dayntye fishe, +Hee sells well in the markett. That poore men +Are forct too, for a slender competens, +A little to prolonge a wretched lyfe! + +_2 Fish_. Com then lett us weighe anchor and aboord: +The soone is upp allredy. + + _Enter the Clowne_. + +_Clowne_. If ever menn weare madd then suer my master is not well in his +witts, and all about this wenshe; here's such sendeinge and seekeinge, +hurriinge and posteinge, and all to no purpose. I have nowe some thyrty +errands to deliver and knowe not to whome nor where, what nor to which +place fyrst; hee's gone on to the citty and sent mee back to the +villaige, whither his frend travelled[81] one waye, hee another, and I +a thyrd contrary from them boathe; he cannott beleeve his inquiry to be +well doone but hee must send me to doo't over againe. I have asked all +I mett and demanded of all I have seene.[82] But what are theese? these +should bee fishermen. Good morrowe, you sea theeves.[83] + +_1 Fish_. You call us theeves that may proove honester +Than many goe for trewe[84] men on the shore. + +_Clowne_. Sawe[85] you not passe this [way] an ould bald fellowe +hutch-shoolderd, crooked nos'd, beetle browd, with a visadge lowreing +and a looke skowlinge; one that heaven hates and every good man +abhors; a cheatinge raskall and an ugly slave,--did note such passe +you? + +_1 Fish_. If such a one as you describe you inquire for, +Mee thinks, my frend, thou hast mistooke thy way; +Thou shouldst have sought him at the gallowes rather, +There such are soonest fownd. + +_Clowne_. Byrlady, worst answered of a playne fellowe; but that you may +knowe him the better, hee had too handsome streete-singing-fact lasses +in his companye. + +_2 Fish_. And for such creatures y'had best search the stewes +O'th citty; this our villadge yields none such. +This fellowe doth but flowte us; letts aboord. + +_1 Fish_. Inquire for us of wenshes? tush, wee fishe +For no such perewinkles; farewell flesh mongere. + + [_Ex. Fish_. + +_Clowne_. No wonder these fellowes pretend to be witty; for +understandinge, so manye have lost there witts as ... they have fisht +for it and in som drawenett or other have caught it. But where might +these lost shrewes bee? I suspect this pestiferous _Je vous prie_ hathe +putt some slovenly tricke or other to cheate my mayster boathe of his +ware and mony. + + _Enter Scribonia with an empty pale to y'e Clow_. + +_Scribon_. Thus beinge chered with warmth, and change of clothes, +With all such comforts as the cloyster yeelds, +I am dyrected to a neighbours by +For water to refreshe and wash our selves. +And this shoold bee the howse. + +_Clowne_. What! not _Scribonia_, +One of the flock that's missing? + +_Scrib_. Oh sweete _Jayms_, +Where is your noble maister? + +_Clowne_. Nay, sweete rogue, +Where is his bewteous mystresse? + +_Scrib_. Heare within. + +_Clowne_. In this place joyninge to the monastery? +And _Mildewe_ too? + +_Scrib_. Rott on that villeyne! no. + +_Clowne_. Hee promist to bringe you too alonge and meete with my master +and som others of his frends att supper. + +_Scrib_. Can such men, ever false unto theire God, +Keepe faythe with men at any tyme? + +_Clowne. _But staye, staye, there's one riddle I cannot expound: howe +com thou so suddenly to lepp out of a howse of roguery into a howse of +religion, from a stewes to a cloyster, from beastleness to blessednes +and from a sacrilegious place to a sanctuary? + +_Scrib_. Such was the grace heaven sent us, who from perill, +Danger of lyfe, the extreamest of all extreames +Hathe brought us to the happy patronage +Of this most reverent abbott. + +_Clowne_. What dangers? what extreames? + +_Scrib_. From the sea's fury, drowneing; for last night +Our shipp was splitt, wee cast upon these rocks. + +_Clowne_. Sayd in a jest, in deede! Shipwreck by land![86] I perceive +you tooke the woodden waggen for a ship and the violent rayne for the +sea, and by cause some one of the wheeles broake and you cast into some +water plashe, you thought the shipp had splitt and you had bene in +danger of drowneinge. + +_Scrib_. Are you then ignorant how, late in the even, +With purpose to make better sale of us +And to defraude thy maister, hee shipt us +With all the gold and jewels that hee had, +All which save wee are perisht? + +_Clowne_. But that caterpiller, that ould catamiting cankerworme, +what's become of him? + +_Scrib_. Dead I hope, with drinkinge of salte water. + +_Clowne_. I would all of his profession had pledged him the same +healthe. But how doth _Palestra_ take this? + +_Scrib_. Gladd to bee rid of such a slavery, +Yet sadly weepinge for her casket's losse, +That which included ample testimony +Bothe of her name and parents. + +_Clowne_. All her ill luck go with it![87]--Heere will be simple newes +to bringe to my mayster when hee hears shee hath bene shippwreckt! Il +make him beleeve I went a fishinge for her to sea and eather drewe her +ashore in my netts, or batinge my hooke strooke her and drewe her upp +by the gills with myne angle. Make you hast for I'l staye till you +come back. [_Exit_. + +_Scrib_. But this delaye had allmost putt me from +What I was sent about; yes this is the place. + [_Knocks_. + + _Enter Godfrey_. + +[_Godf_.] Whoes that that offers violens to these gates +That never yet offended? What want you? + +_Scrib_. That which the earthe +Dothe forebidd none, and freely yelds to all, +A little fayre springe water. + +_Godfr_.--One of those giurles +Beelyke this morninge shippwrackt and now scapt? +A dainty peece of maydes fleshe. Such sweete bitts +Are not heare often swallowed, and my mouth +Waters at this fine morsell. + +_Scrib_. Water, frend; +Tis that I crave for heaven's sake. + +_Godfr_. Wee have none +Of guift, unless you by't. + +_Scrib_. Will you sell that +The earthe affourds you gratis, and sett pryse +Of what a foe would yeeld an enemy? + +_Godfr_. Not, pretty lasse, so thou'lt afford mee that, +Freely and without bargen, which not only +One frend will to another but oft tymes +A stranger to a stranger. + +_Scrib_. What's that, prithee? + +_Godfr_. Only a kisse, sweete wensh. + +_Scrib_. Ye are too familiar, +I'l by none at that pryse: or fill my pale +Or I'l returne back empty. + +_Godfr_. Well for once +I will not greatly stand out, yet in hope, +That what att our fyrst meetinge you'l not grant +You'l not denye at partinge; reatch thy pale. + +_Scrib_. Quick as you love mee. + +_Godfr_. As you love mee! right: +Who[88] ever lov'd that lov'd not att fyrst sight? +The poet's excellent sayeinge. + [_Exit[89] to draw water_. + +_Scrib_. What shall I saye or howe shall I excuse +This my longe staye? but nowe I cast myne eyes +Backe on the roughe yet unappeased seas, +I quake to thinke upon our dangers past. +But see the fearefull object of a death +More menacinge and affrightfull, a sea monster +Cast from the deepes to swallow us ashore! +Malevolent fate and black desaster still +Pursues us to all places, but of all + _Enter Myldew and Sarlaboys to her_. +This, this the greatest, and to this one compard +All that are past but trifles. Oh that grand maister +Of mechall[90] lusts, that bulke of brothelree, +That stillary of all infectious sinnes, +Hath scapt the wrack, and with his fellowe guest +And partner in corruption makes this waye, +And with no tarde pace. Where shall I hyde mee! +Whether shall I fly to _Palestra_ back +And with this sadd relation kill her quite +That's scarce recovered! rather, you hy powers, +Then to prolonge our griefes, shorten our howers. + [_Exit_. + +_Godfr_. Where[91] is my daynty damosella? where? +Mee thought the water mett mee the half way +And lept up full three stepps to meete my pale. +This 'tis when as a man goes willingly +About his busines. Howe fresh a kisse will tast +From her whyte lipps! and every part besydes +From head to toe have bin so lately duckt +And rincht in the salt water. Wheres my sweete? +Not heare? no where? why, hoe, my whytinge mopp[92] +Late scapt from feedinge haddocks! ha, what, gone? +Nay then, go thou too that shee sent mee for, +To him that next shall find thee! yet not so: +This learned pale instructs mee by these letters +That it beelonges unto this monastery. +And iff it shoold be lost by my default +I may be chardged with theft or sacriledge. +No, I'l deliver it to the owners suer,[93] +And this the place. + + _Enter the Bawde Mildewe and Sarlaboyse_. + +_Mild_. Hee that woold stoody to bee miserable +Lett him forsake the land and putt to sea. +What widgeing,[94] that hath any voyce at all, +Would trust his safety to a rotten planke +That hath on earthe sounde footinge! + +_Sarlab_. None but madmen. + +_Mild_. Why thou of none, thrifty and well advised, +Stryvest thou to make mee such, where's now the gayne +And proffitt promist? the riche marchandyse +Of lust and whooringe? the greate usury +Got by the sale of wantons? these cursed jewelryes +With all the wealthe and treasure that I had,[95] +All perisht in one bottom, and all, all, +Through thy malicious counsell. + +_Sarlab_. Curse thy selfe. +The trusty bark, ore laden with thy sinnes, +Baudryes, grosse lyes, thy theft and perjuryes +Beesydes the burdene of thy ill gott gooddes, +Not able to indure so greate a weight +Was forct to sinke beneathe them.[96] + +_Mild_. Out, dogge! + +_Sarl_. Out, devill! + +_Mild_. By thee I am made nothinge. Oh my giurles +You sweete and never faylinge marchandyse, +Comodityes in all coasts, worthy coyne, +Christiane or heathen! by whom in distresses +I coold have raysed a fortune! more undoone +That I should loose you thus! + +_Sarl_. I knowe hee had rather +See halfe a hundred of them burnt[97] a land +Then one destroyde by water. But, oh _Neptune_, +I feare I have supt so much of thy salt brothe +Twill bringe mee to a feavour. + +_Mild_. Oh my _Palestra_ +And fayre _Scribonia_, weare but you too safe, +Yet som hope weare reserved me. + +_Sarl_. I praye, _Mildewe_, +When you so early to the bottom dyv'd, +For whom weare you a fishinge? + +_Mild_. Marry, for maydens; +Woold I knewe howe to catch them. But my gutts, +Howe they are sweld with sea brine! + +_Sarl_. Tis good phisick +To cure thee of the mangy. + +_Mild_. Wretched man! +That have no more left of a magazine +Then these wett cloathes upon mee, nay the woorst +Of all I had and purposely put on +Only to lyv a shipp-board. + +_Sarl_. Once to-day +Thou wert in wealthe above mee, nowe the seas have +Left us an equall portion. + +_Mild_. In all the wourld +I vowe I am not woorthe a lighted faggott +Or a poore pan of charcoale. + +_Sarl_. Justly punisht +Thou that hast all thy lyfe tyme dealt in fyre-woorks, +Stoves and hott bathes to sweet in, nowe to have +Thy teethe to falter in thy head for could +Nimbler then virginall Jacks.[98] + +_Mild_. Th'art a sweete guest. + +_Sarl_. Too good for such an host, better to have bin +Lodgd in som spittle; or, if possible, +To bee imprisoned in som surgeon's box +That smells of salves and plasters. + +_Mild_. Nowe what sharke +Or wyde-mouth'd whale shall swallowe upp my budgett, +May it at th'instant choake him! + +_Sarl_. Cursedly twas got, +And nowe thy curse goes with it. + +_Mild_. But those giurles! +Nought so much greives mee as to part with them +Before they lost theire maiden-headds. Had they lyvd +Till I had seen them women, and oth' trade, +My tast and care bestowed to bringe them upp +I should have thought well spent, which nowe with them +Is meerely cast away. + + _Enter Godfrey_. + +_Sarlab_. Peace now your pratinge and heare another spirit. + +_Godfr_.[99] The pale religious, which was the pledge +Of a kisse lascivious, I have given backe, +Ey, and to boote the water; but within +There's such a coyle betwixt the 2 young giurles +Such quakinge, shakinge, quiveringe, shiveringe +Such cryeinge, and such talk of flyinge, then of hyding, +And that there's no abydinge; one cryes out and calls, +The others redy to breake downe the walls; +Then weepinge they whisper together, +And saye they woold roone if they knew whither, +And are indeede putt to such strange affrights +That I was afrayde they weare hunted with sprights, +And therefore cam and left them: lass, poor giurles, +They are in piteous feare. + +_Mild_. Hee talkt of guerles: why may not these bee they, +Escapt as wee? staye, younge man, good frend, staye. + +_Godf_. Too ould drown'd ratts: I'l have som sport with them, +And though I pitty those I'l play with these. + +_Mild_. What gurles weare those thou spakest of? + +_Sarl_. Tell us fyrst +Where wee might finde som comfort. + +_Godf_. Lett us oh lett us bee advys'd +And living still to all men, +So though wee bee but midle sizd +Wee shalbe held no small men. + +_Mild_. Concerning these fayre damosels, speake of that. + +_Sarl_. Which now concernes us most, where may wee meete +With warmth, with foode, and shelter? + +_Godf_. Oh thou that dost demand of mee +Som fyre, som meate and harbor, +I see thou lately hast ben washt, +Hath _Neptune_ ben thy barbor? + +_Sarl_. This fellowe mearely flowtes our misery, +And laughs att our distresses. + +_Mild_. But, kind frende, +Concerninge these yonge women, are they fayre? + +_Godf_. Fayre flesh and cleane they bothe appeare +And not lyke gypsies umber'd. + +_Mild_. How many? + +_Godf_. Just as thou and I when wee are +Once but number'd. + +_Mild_. Oh, _Sarleboys_, there's comfort in these woords; +They have allredy warmed my hart within, +Why may not these bee they? + +_Sarl_. Bee they or not, +I had rather see one caudell downe my throate, +To wash downe this salt-water, than bee mayster +Of all the wenshes lyveinge. + +_Mild_. Oh where, where, +Where might I see too such? + +_Godf_. Thou that goest sydewayes lyke a crabb, gapst on mee + lyke an oyster, +Followe thy flat nose and smell them there, in th'out part of + this cloyster. + +_Mild_. Oh maye this peece of earthe proove happy to mee +As hath the sea bin fatall. + +_Sarl_. I'l followe and coold wish +Boath cloyster and whole villadge weare a fyre +Only to dry my clothes by. + +_Godf_. Marry hange you +You that so late scaped drowning for I take you +For too pestiferous rascalls. + + _Exeunt_. + +Explicit Actus 2. + + + + +_Act 3_. + +SCENE 1. + + + _Enter the Lady de Averne with a letter in her hand + readinge, and with her mayde_. + +_Lady_. And howe came you by this? + +_Mayde_. Followinge you to th'chappell +And I protest not thinking anythinge, +Fryar _Jhon_ o'th suddeine pluckt mee by the sleeve +And whisperd in myne eare to give that to you, +But privatly, bycause it was a thinge +Only toweard your person. + +_Lady_. Twas well doonne; +But prithee do no more so, for this tyme +Tak't for a warninge. + +_Mayde_. Madam I am skool'd. + +_Lady_. Doo so, or ever loose me. Heeres[100] sweet stuffe! +Can this be in a vowed monastick lyfe +Or to be fownd in churchmen? 'tis a question +Whether to smyle or vex, to laughe or storme, +Bycause in this I finde the cause of boathe. +What might this sawcy fellowe spy in mee +To incorradge such a boldnes? yes this letter +Instructs mee what: he seythe my affability +And modest smiles, still gracinge his salutes, +Moovd him to wryte. Oh what a chary care then +Had womene neede have boathe of lipps and eyes +When every fayre woord's censur'd liberty, +And every kind looke meere licensiousnes! +I have bin hitherto so greate a stranger +To these unus'd temptations that in truthe +I knowe not howe to take this. Sylly fryar! +Madnes or folly, one of these't must bee. +If th'one I pity, at the other laughe, +And so no more reguard it. + +_Maid_. Madam, if ought bee in that letter ill, +Mee thinks 'tis good [that] you can tak't so well. + +_Lady_. Peace you; a braineles weake, besotted fellowe! +But lett mee better recollect myself. +Madnes nor folly, and add lust to them, +Durst not in fury, heate, or Ignorans, +Have tempted my unquestioned chastity +Without a fowrth abetter, jealousy. +The more I ponder that, I more suspect +By that my Lord should have a hand in this, +And,[101] knowinge there's such difference in our yeares, +To proove my feythe might putt this triall on mee. +Else how durst such a poore penurious fryar +Oppose such an unheard of Impudens +Gaynst my incensed fury and revendge? +My best is therefore, as I am innocent, +To stooddy myne owne safety, showe this letter, +Which one [?] my charity woold have conceiled, +And rather give him upp a sacrifice +To my lord's just incensement then indanger +Myne owne unblemisht truthe and loyalty +By incurringe his displeasure; heare hee coms. + + _Enter the Lord de Averne with som followers; + his man Denis_ + +_L. Averne_. Howe, Lady? reading? + +_Lady_. Yes, a letter, sir. + +_L. Averne_. Imparts it any newes? + +_Lady_. Yes, syr, strange newes, +And scarce to bee beleaved. + +_Lord Av_. Forreyne. + +_Lady_. Nay, domestick, +Tis howsehould busines all. + +_Lord Av_. May I impart it? + +_Lady_. Oh, syr, in any case, +As one it most concernes; but I intreate you, +Reade it with patiens; the simplicity +Of him that writte it will afford you mirthe, +Or else his mallice spleane.--Nowe by his temper +And change of countenance I shall easily find +Whose hand was cheife in this. + +_Lord Av_. All leave the place. + +_Denis_. We shall, syr. + +_Lord Av_. Possible +That this shoold bee in man, nay in man vowed +Unto a strickt abstemious chastity! +From my owne creature and from one I feede, +Nay from a place built in my holiest vowes, +Establisht in my purpose in my lyfe, +Maintayn'd from my revenue, after death +Firm'd and assur'd to all posterityes-- +That that shoold breede such vipers! + +_Lady_. Patiens, syr; the fellowe suer is madd. + +_Lord Av_. I can be madd as hee too and I will. +Thus to abuse my goodnes! in a deede +Som woold hold meritorious, att the least +Intended for an act of piety, +To suffer in my zeale! nay to bee mockt +In my devotion, by these empty drones +That feede upon the honey of my hyve! +To invert my good intentements, turne this nest + [_Ink: paper ready_. +I built for prayer unto a bedd of sinnes! +Which thus I'l punish; this religious place, +Once vowed to sanctity, I'l undermyne +And in one instant blowe the structure upp +With all th'unhallowed covent. + +_Lady_. Praye, no extreames: +Where one offends shall for his heighnous fact +So many suffer? there's no justyce in't. + +_Lord Av_. Som justyce I would showe them heare on earthe +Before they finde it multiplyed in heaven. + +_Lady_. For my sake, syr, do not for one man's error +Destroy a woorke of perpetuity, +By which your name shall lyve. One man offends; +Lett the delinquent suffer. + +_Lord Av_. So't shallbe, +And thou hast well advysed. Som pen and Inke theire! + +_Lady_. What purpose you? + +_Lord Av_. That's soly to my selfe +And in my fyxt thoughts stands irreproovable. + + _Enter Dennis with pen, inke, and paper_. + +Syr, heares pen inke and paper. + +_Lord Av_. To his letter +My self will give him answer. (_writes_) + +_Denis_. Suer all's not well that on the suddane thus +My lord is so distempered. + +_Lady_. I have, I feare, +Styr'd such a heate, that nought save blood will quensh: +But wish my teares might doo't; hee's full of storme, +And that in him will not bee easily calmd. +His rage and troble both pronounce him guiltles +Of this attempt, which makes mee rather doubt +Hee may proove too seveare in his revendge, +Which I with all indevour will prevent +Yet to the most censorious I appeale, +What coold I lesse have doone to save myne honor +From suffringe beneathe skandall? + +_Lord Av_. See, heare's all: +'Tis short and sweete, wryte this in your own hand +Without exchange of the least sillable. +Insert in copiinge no suspitious dash, +No doubtfull comma; then subscribe your name, +Seal't then with your own signet and dispatche it +As I will have dyrected; doo't, I charge you, +Without the least demurre or fallacy. +By dooinge this you shall prevent distrust +Or future breach beetwixt us; you shall further +Expresse a just obediens. + +_Lady_. Syr, I shall, +What ere your concealed purpose bee, I shall. + +_Lord Av_. Provyde mee horses, I will ryde. + +_Denis_. When, syr? + +_Lord Av_. Instantly, after dinner, and gie't out +I am not to returne till three dayes hence, +So spreade it throughe the howse. + +_Denis_. What followers, Syr, +Meane you to take alonge? + +_Lord Av_. Thyself, no more, +For 'tis a private busines, and withall; +Provyde mee,--harke thyne eare. + +_Denis_. A stronge one, Syrr. + +_Lord Av_. One that will howld; withall give pryvate order +At night the guarden gates may bee left open, +By whiche wee may returne unknowne to any. +What I intend lyes heare. + +_Denis_. All wee servants +Are bownd to doo, but not examine what; +That's out of our comission. + +_Lord Av_. 'Twixt us too +I shall resolve thee further. + +_Denis_. I am gone, Syr. + +_Lord Av_. Nowe, sweete ladye, have you doon? + +_Lady_. As you commanded. + +_Lord Av_. Itt wants nothinge nowe +But seale and superscription; I'l see't doone. +And marke mee nowe; at evensonge, passinge through +The cloyster to the chappell, when the fryar +Amongst the rest bowes with his wonted duckes, +Add rather then deminish from your smiles +And wonted favours. Let this shee post then +Conveigh this letter to the fryar's close fist, +Who no dowbt gapes for answer. + +_Lady_. All shall bee +As you instructe; but punishe, syr, with pitty; +Putt him to payne or shame, but deathe, alas, +Is too seveare. + +_Lord Av_. Tush, wyfe, feare not; think'st thou Ile +quale[102] a churchman? + [_Exeunt_. + + + +SCENE 2. + + + _Enter after a great noyse within, the Clowne, + meetinge with Ashburne and Godfrey_. + +_Clowne_. If this villadge bee inhabited with men as this place within +is with monsters; if with men that have eyes and can distinguishe bewty, +or that have hartes and therfore saver of pitty; if you bee fathers and +know what belonges to children, or christians and therefore what is ment +by charity; if husbandmen and have hope of your harvest, or marchants of +your trade's increase; if fishermen that would thryve by your labours, +or any of all these that would be knowne by your honesty-- + +_Ashburne_. Many of those thou namest have place in us, +Great'st part if not all. + +_Clowne_. Then lend your helpeinge hands to succor, releive, defend, +deliver, save, serve, patronadge, abett and mynteyn-- + +_Ashb_. Whom, what? + +_Clowne_. Bewty, vertue, purity, syncerity, softnes, sweetenes, +innocens, and chastity. + +_Ashb_. Gainst what? gainst whome? + +_Cl_. Oppression, frawde, rudenes, reproch, synn, shame, debate, +discourse, theft, rapine, contempt of religion and breach of sanctury, +against a magazine of misdemeanors and a whole monopoly of mischeif. + +_Godf_. I knowe the busines, syr, if in that place +These are the too distressed wrecks at sea +We sawe this morninge floatinge, sweeter guerles +I never yet sett ey on, and opprest +By too ill lookeinge raskells that to warme them +Wisht all the towne a bonefire-- + +_Ashb_. Miscreant slaves! +For one younge damsell's sake I once cald daughter, +And in the absens of there greater frends, +I'l stand betwixt them and these injuryes. + +_Clowne_. These are they after whome I have been seeking, and my mayster +was enquiringe. If you will but secure them heare in the villadge whilst +I carry woord to my mayster in the citty, you shall doo me a curtesye +and him a most noble offyce.[103] + +_Ashb_. It was no more then promisse, and I shoold +Fayle in my goodnes not to see that doone. +Post to thy mayster, bid him meete us heare: +Mean tyme my menn shall rayse the villagers +Boathe in the reskewe of these innocent maydes +And in defens of holly priveledge. + +_Clowne_. I fly lyke the winds. + +_Godf_. And I'l go call the pesants +To rayse another tempest. + + [_Exeunt[104] Clown and Godfrey_. + +_Ashb_. Hasten boathe +And till ayde com I'l laye myne eare and listen +To heare what further coyle is kept within: +All's silent on the sudden. + _Musick_. + + [_Song within_.] + +(1) Helpe, Helpe, oh ayde a wretched mayde + or els we are undoon then. + +(2) And have I caught, and have I caught you? + in vayne it is to roonne then. + +(1) Som reskewe then[105] from gods or men + redeeme us from these crosses! + +(2) Tis all in vayne, since nowe I gaine + part of my former losses. + +(1) Oh heaven, defend! what, yet no end + of these our strange desasters? + +(2) No favour's knowne, no pittye's showne + to them that fly there maysters. + +(1) Why to defame, reproch, and shame + poor innocents thus dragge yee? + +(2) With[106] your offens there's no dispence: + away then! wherefore lagge yee? + + _A tumult within and sudden noyse. Enter at one doore + Godfrey with country fellowes for there reskewe, at the + other Mildewe, Sarlaboys, Palestra, Scribonia_. + +_Palest_. Where, in what place shall wee bestowe our selfes +From this injust man's fury? + +_Scrib_. If compeld +And dragg'd from sanctuary by prophane hands, +Where shall we flye to safety? + +_Ashb_. Wheither, if +Not unto us? wee often see the gods +Give and bequeathe there justyce unto men, +Which wee as fythefully [_sic_] will see performed. + +_All_. Downe with these saucy companyons! + +_Godf_. Downe with these sacraligious silsepaereales [?], these +unsanctified _Sarlaboyses_ that woold make a very seralia of the +sanctuary, and are meare renegadoes to all religion! + +_Mild_. Stay, hold, are you bandetty? rovers, theives, +And wayte you heare to robb and pilladge us +The sea so late hathe ryfled? these are myne, +My chattells and my goodes, nor can you cease them +As wrecks; I appeale unto the admirall. + +_Ash_. His power I in his absens will supply, +And cease yee all as forfett; these as goodds +You as superfluous ladinge, till that coort +Shall compremise betwixt us. + +_Mild_. I'the meanetyme +Lett mee possesse myne owne; these are my slaves +My utensills, my mooveables, and bought +With myne owne private coyne. + +_Sarl_. To which I am witnes. + +_Mild_. And by the heyre I'l dragge them as myne owne, +Wear't from the holly alter. + +_Pal_. Succor! + +_Scrib_. Helpe! + +_Ashb_. Are they not Christians? + +_Mild_. Yes. + +_Ash_. What nation? + +_Mild_. _Englishe_. + +_Ashb_. In myne owne country borne and shall not I +Stand as theire champion then? I tell thee, pesant, +_England_'s, no broode for slaves. + +_Pal_. Oh Syr to you +Wee fly as to a father. + +_Ashb_. And I'l guard you +As weare you myne owne children. + +_Mild_. Gainst there lord, +Owner and mayster? + +_Ashb_. None is lordd with us +But such as are freeborne; our Christian lawes +Do not allowe such to bee bought or sould +For any Bawde or pander to hyre such +To comon prostitution. Heere they stand: +Tutch but a garment, nay a heyre of theres +With thy least finger, thy bald head I'l sinke +Belowe thy gowtye foote. + +_Mild_. I am opprest, +Is theire no lawe in _France_? + +_Ashb_. Yes, Syr, to punish +These chastityes seducers. + +_Mild_. Give me fyar, +I will not leive of all this monastery +Of you or these, of what's combustible, +Naye of my self, one moiety unconsumed. + +_Godf_. His frend before him wisht the towne a fyre, +Now hee would burne the cloyster: too arch-pillers![107] + +_Ashb_. And lyke such +Our purpose is to use them. Dare not, miscreant, +But to give these a menace whom thou calst thyne, +No not by beck or nod; if thou but styer [stir] +To doo unto this howse of sanctity +Damadge or outrage, I will lay thee prostrate +Beneathe these staves and halberts. + +_Mild_. Is this lawe? + +_Godf_. Yes _Staffords_[108] lawe. + +_Ashb_. Naye, feare not, pretty guerles; +The fryars them selfs, weare they not at theire prayers +Wold have doon more than this in just defens +Of theire immunityes; but in theire absens +I stand for them, nor shall you part from hence +Or dare to sqeelche till they themselves be judge. +Of injurye doone to this sacred place, +Or such as I have sent for make appearance +To clayme what thou unjustly calst thyne owne. + +_Godf_. Nay, thou shall stand; wee have too stringes to our Bow. + +_Ashb_. If hee but styer then stryke. + +_Mild_. This _Stafford_ law, +Which I till nowe heard never nam'd in _France_, +Is for the present a more fearefull coort +Then chancery or star-chamber. I want motion; +You have made [me] a statue, a meere Imadge. + +_Godf_.[109] Styer and thou diest: weele maule you. + +_Mild_. Iff heare I can have none, lett me depart +To seake elcewhere for justyce. + +_Sarl_. Keepe him prisoner, +And sett mee free to finde some advocate +To pleade in his just cause. + +_Godf_. Neather styrre +In payne of too _Frensh_ crownes, and they so crack[t] +Never more to passe for currant. + +_Ashb_. That presume. + +_Mild_. Misery of miseryes! I am bound hand and foote, +And yet boath legges and armes at liberty. + +_Godf_. Yes by the lawe cald _Stafforde_. + + _Enter Mr. Raphael, Mr. Treadway and the Clowne_. + +_Raph_. Durst then the slave use my _Palestra_ thus, +And dragge her by the heyre from sanctuary? + +_Clowne_. Most trew, Syr. + +_Raph_. Why did'st not kill him? + +_Clowne_. If I had had but a swoard I had doon't, but I sought the +villadge through and cold find neare a cutter. + +_Raph_. Weare there no skattered stones lye in the streete +To have beate his breynes out? + +_Clowne_. Not a stone to throwe att a dogg. + +_Raph_. Had'st thou not heeles + +_Clowne_. Yes to have kickt him lyke a dogge, but I reserved them to +roon the more nimbly about your busines. + +_Pal_. I nowe spye a newe sanctuary, his armes, +In which I may pursue security. +My _Raphael_! + +_Raph_. My _Palestra_, art thou safe? +Beefore I give due thankes to this good man, +Which tyme shall paye in all pluralityes, +Oh shewe mee but that monster of mankind +And shame of men on whom to bee revendgd! + +_Mild_. The storme at sea was not more terrible +Then this the land now threatens; againe undoone, +Over and over wretched! + +_Clowne_. See the limbe +Of his ould syre the Devill. + +_Raph_. Perjured slave! +Perfidious, but that I abhore to take +The hangman's office from him, this should open +A doore by which thy black soule should fly out +Unto assured damnation. + +_Tread_. Bee more patient; +Proceede with him after a legal course, +And bee not sweyde by fury. + +_Raph_. Well advys'd: +What can thy false toonge pleide in thy excuse, +Thou volume of all vyces? + +_Mild_. Why, what not? + +_Raph_. Is thy hart sear'd, thy browe made impudent, +And all thy malefactions crownd[110] with lyes +Against just testates and apparent truthes? +When I had payde full ransom for this pryze, +Why didst thou beare her hence? + +_Mild_. I did not doo't,-- +These bee my witnes; have I borne her hence +When I have brought her to thee? + +_Raph_. Thy bawdes rhethorick +Shall not excuse thee thus. Frends guarde him safe. + +_Clowne_. We will see his fooles coate guarded,[111] ey and reguarded +too from slipping out of our fingers. + +_Godf_.[112] Weel finde amongst us more then ... him; fower elbowes +elbowe him off all sydes, gentlemen. It shall appeare beefore hee parts +with us that hee hathe shewed him self no better then a coxcomb. + +_Tread_. Beleeve mee nowe, I do not blame my frende +To fishe in trobled streames for such a pearle, +Or digge in black mowled for so ritch a myne; +But to redeeme a chast and inocent sowle +Forthe from the fierye jawes of lust and hell, +Exprest a most comended charitye. +What second bewtyes that ... frend, +That tremblinge flyes from his infectious ills +To patronise her youth and inocence +Beneathe that goode man's goodnes-- + +_Raph_. Alyke suffers +With her in all distresses, lyke in years, +In vertue, no way differing of our nation; +Who knowes but neare all yee too? + +_Tread_. I feele somthinge +Growinge on mee, I know not howe to style, +Pitty or love, synce it hath tast of boathe. +And sinne itt weare such parity in all thinges, +Age, mindes, wrecks, bondadge, pursiutes, injuryes +Shoold nowe bee separate; the one be freede +The t'other left in durance, for the want +And pious tender of so smalle a somme. +I somwhat have in purpose. + +_Raph_. Dragge them boathe +Before the magistrate. + +_Sarlab_. Mee? wherefore? why? + +_Godf_. As his abettor and ill counseller: +One would have burnt the villadge, and the other +Threatned to fyar the cloyster. + +_Raph_. Boathe acts capitall +And worthy seveare censure. + +_Mild_. Though thou pleedst interest +In waye of earnest in _Palestra_, yet +Robb mee not quite, give me the tother backe, +My only portion left me by the sea +And stock to sett upp trade by. + +_Scrib_. Rather torture mee +With any violent deathe. + +_Tread_. Leive them in trust +And chardge of this grave reverent gentleman, +Untill you heire the sentence of the coort. + +_Ashb_. I willingly accept theire patronadge: +Heere att my howse they shall have meate and harbour. + +_Raph_. Nobly spoke: +Meane tyme hale these to'th coort. + +_Mild_. My _Palestra_, +What? not one woord of pitye? + +_Raph_. Stopp his mouthe. + +_Mild_. My _Scribonia_, +Wilt thou intreate them neather? + +_Tread_. Tyme's but trifled; +Away with them to justyce! + +_Mild_. Take my skinne then, +Synce nothinge else is left mee. + +_Clown_. That's rotten allredy and will neather +make goodd leather nor parchement ... theire. + + [_Exeunt_. + +_Ashb_. Com, damsalls, followe mee where I shall leade: +I have a cross wyfe at home I tell you that, +But one that I presume will not bee jealous +Of too such harmeles sowles. + +_Pal_. You are to us +A patron and defender. + +_Scrib_. Bounde unto you +Not as an host but father. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +SCENA 3. + + + _Enter the Lord de Averne, his Lady, + Dennis and the waytinge mayde_. + +_Lord Av_. Are all thinges redye as I gave in chardge? + +_Denys_. Redy, syr. + +_Lord Av_. Inoughe; and you deliver'd it +To his owne hands? + +_Mayde_. I did. + +_Lord Av_. Howe did hee tak't? + +_Mayde_. With smiles and seeminge joy. + +_Lord Av_. Sorrowe and shame +I feare will bee the sadd end on't. + +_Lady Av_. Syr, you'r troubled. + +_Lord Av_. I would not have you so; pray, to your rest; +You shall remove mee from all jelosyes +If you betake you to your sowndest sleeps, +And without more inquiry. + +_Lady Av_. Syr, remember +That all offences are not woorthy deathe: +Fellowny, murder, treason and such lyke +Of that grosse nature maye be capitall; +Not folly, error, trespasse. + +_Lord Av_. You advyse well, +Lett mee advyse you lyke-wyse: instantly +Retyre in to your chamber, without noyse +Reply or question, least part of that rage +Is bent gainst him you turne upon your self, +Which is not for your safety. + +_Lady Av_. Syr, good night. [_Exit_.[113] + +_Lord Av_. How goes the hower? + +_Denis_. Tis almost tenn. + +_Lord Av_. The tyme of our appointment: you attend +Upon his knocks and give him free admittans; +Beinge entred, refer him into this place; +That doon, returne then to your Ladye's chamber +There locke your self fast in. + +_Mayde_. My lorde, I shall.-- +Poore fryare, I feare theyl put thee to thy penance +Before they have confest thee. + +_Lord Av_. Come, withdrawe; +The watchwoordes not yet given. + + _Enter the Fryar with a letter_. + +_Fr. Jhon_. 'Tis her owne pen, I knwe it, synce shee sett +Her hand to establishe our foundation, +And, sweete soule, shee hath writt a second tyme +To build mee upp anewe:--_My Lord is ridd +A three dayes jorney, loose not this advantadge +But take tyme by the fore-topp_. Yes I will +By the fore-topp and topp-gallant. _At the posterne +Shee to whose hand you gave your letter, Fryar, +Attends for your despatch_:--my busines +I hope shalbee despatcht then:--_Fare you well, +Fayle mee this night and ever_. I'l sooner forfett +All pleasures, hopes, preferments, with th'assurance +Of a longe lyfe blest with most happy howers, +Then this one night's contentment. + +_Mayde_. Ha, who's theire? +Fryar _Jhon_? + +_Fr. Jhon_. The same: you, mystresse _Millisent_ +My Ladye's gentlewoman? + +_Mayde_. I am the closett +That treasures all her counsells. + +_Fr. Jhon_. Is all cleare? + +_Mayde_. As such a dark night can bee--to one, I feare, +That scarce will looke on daye more. + +_Fr. Jhon_. Where's my lady? + +_Mayde_. Attends you in her chamber. + +_Fr. Jhon_. Guide mee too't, +Nay, quickly guerle:--how I allredy surfett +In this nights expectation! + +_Mayde_. Staye you heare +In this withdraweinge roome, I'l fetch a light +For safeguard of your shinnes. + +_Denis_. Shee might have sayde +For safeguard of his necke. + +_Mayde_. My sceane's doone; +The next act lyes amongst them. [_Exit_.[114] + +_Fr. Jhon_. My part dothe but beginne nowe and I'l act it +In exquisite cleane linnen; and this capp +Proffred of purpose, least I should smell fryar. +What differ wee i'th darke, save our shaven crowne, +From gentlemen, nay Lords? nature hath araied us +As well as the best layemen: why should lawe +Restreyne from us what is allowed to them? +Lett it curbe fooles and idiots, such as throughe folly +Will not, or nycenes dare not, tast what's sweete, +Alyke made for all pallats. + +_Lord Av_. Howe the slave +Insults in his damnation! cease the wretch, +I can indure no lonnger. + +_Fr. Jhon_. Such as ban +Proffred delights may, if they please, refuse; +What's borne with mee I will make bold to use. + +_Lord Av_. And I what thou weart borne too, that's a halter. +Pull without feare or mercy, strangle him +With all his sinnes about him; t'were not else +A revendge worthe my fury. + + [_Fry: strangled_. + +_Dennis_. I dare nowe +Lodge him a whole night by my syster's syde, +Hee's nowe past strompetting. + +_Lord Av_. Tis night with him, +A longe and lastinge night. + +_Denis_. Hee lyes as quiet. +You did well, Fryare, to putt on your cleane linnen; +Twill serve you as a shrowde for a new grave. +Whither shall wee lyft his body? + +_Lord Av_. I am on the suddeine +Growne full of thoughts; the horror of the fact +Breedes strange seditions in mee. + +_Denis_. Hee perhapps +But counterfetts dead sleep. I'l hollowe to him +To see if I can wake him. + +_Lord Av_. Trifle not; +The sinne will proove more serious. To a conscience +Startled with blood and murder, what a terror +Is in the deede, being doone, which bredd before +Boathe a delight and longing! This sadd spectacle +Howe itt affrights mee! + +_Denis_. Letts remove itt then. + +_Lord Av_. The sinne it self, the churches malediction, +As doone to one of a sequestred lyfe +And holly order, the lawes penalty, +Being duble forfeture of lyfe and state, +Reproach, shame, infamy, all these incur'd +Through my inconsiderate rashnes! + +_Denis_. My lyfe, too. +Howe to prevent the danger of all these? + +_Lord Av_. Ey, that will aske much breyne, much project. + +_Denis_. Sir, +Shall we poppe him in som privy? + +_Lord Av_. Duble injurye, +To praye upon the soule and after deathe +Doo to the body such discoortesy; +It neather savours of a generous spyritt +Nor that which wee call manly. + +_Denis_. Anythinge +For a quiett lyfe,[115] but this same wryneckt deathe, +That which still spoyles all drinkinge, 'tis a thinge +I never coold indure; as you are noble +Keepe still my wind pype open. + +_Lord Av_. Out of many +Museings[116] for boath our safetyes I have fownd +One that's above the rest most probable. + +_Denis_. What, what, I praye, Syr? + +_Lord Av_. Interupt mee not: +Staye I should nowe begett a stratagem +To save myne owne lyfe, myne estate and goodds, +Ey, and secure thee too. + +_Denis_. 'Twere excellent, Syr. + +_Lord Av_. I have project for all these, as willingly +To lengthen boathe our lyves, and limitt us +Tyme to repent his deathe. + +_Denis_. But howe, I praye, Syr? + +_Lord Av_. Ey, there's the difficulty; but nowe I hav't. +Betwixt us and the cloyster's but one wall, +And that of no greate height; coold wee in private +Conveighe this fryar into the monastery, +It might be then imadgind som of them +Might bee his deathe's-man; which might seeme more probable +Bycause, as I had late intelligens, +There hathe bin stryfe amongst them. + +_Denis_. Better still. + +_Lord Av_. Now howe can wee incurr the least suspect? +For what should hee doo from the fryary, +Or what seeke heere att this unseasoned hower? + +_Denis_. I apprehende thee; and, to further this, +In the backe yard there is a ladder, Syr: +Mount him upon my back, and I'l conveighe him +Where som, not wee, shall answer for his death. + +_Lord Av_. As desperate wounds still must have desperate cure, +So all rash mischeiffes shuld have suddeine shiftes. +Wee'I putt it to ye venter. + +_Denis_. Mount him then; +I'l once trye if the ventur of a ladder +Can keepe mee from the halter. + + [_Exeunt_.[117] + +Explicit Actus 3. + + + + +_Actus 4_. + +SCENA PRIMA. + + + _Enter the Clowne_. + +_Clowne_. I have left a full coort behynde mee, _Mildewe_ pleidinge of +the one syde, my mayster on the other, and the lawyers fendinge and +prooveinge on boathe; there's such yeallinge and ballinge, I know not +whether it made any deafe to heare it, but I am suer I was almost sicke +to see't. Whyle they are brablinge in the cittye I am sent backe to the +villadge to cheire up the too younge mermaydes; for synce theire +throates have bin rincht with salt water they singe with no lesse +sweatenes. But staye; I spy a fisherman drawinge his nett upp to the +shore; I'l slacke som of my speede to see how hee hathe spedd since the +last tempest. + + _Enter the Fisherman_. + +_Fisher_. I see hee that nought venters nothinge gaynes; +Hee that will bee awake when others sleepe +May sometymes purchase what may give him rest, +When other loyterers shalbe forct to ryse +Or perish through meare want; as, for example, +Although the tempest frighted hence the fishe, +I have drag'd some thinge without finne or skale +May make mee a good markett. Lett mee better +Surveigh my pryze; 'tis of good weight I feele; +Now should it bee some treasure I weare mayde. + +_Clowne_. Which if it proove I'l half marr you or be half made with you. + +_Fisher_. It must be gold by th'weight. + +_Clowne_. If it bee so heavy 'tis ten to one but I'l do you the curtesye +to ease you of part of your burden. + +_Fisher_. None save myself is guilty of this pryze; +'Tis all myne owne, and I'l bee thinke mee best +Howe to beestowe of this ritche magazin. + +_Clowne_. And I am stooddiinge too with what lyne, what angle, what +fisguigge[118] what castinge nett I cann share with you in this sea +booty. + +_Fisher_. I will dissemble, as most ritche men doo, +Pleade poverty and speake my mayster fayre; +By out my freedom for som little somme, +And, beeinge myne owne man, by lands and howses; +That doon, to sea I'l rigge shipps of myne owne, +And synce the sea hathe made mee upp a stocke +I'l venter it to sea; who knowes but I +In tyme may prove a noble marchant? + +_Clowne_. Yes of eele skinnes.--Staye you, Syrra, ho! + +_Fisher_. I knowe no fish of that name; limpet, mullet, conger, dolphin, +sharke I knowe, and place; I woold som body else had thyne; for hearinge +I woold thou hadst none, nor codd; for smelt thou art too hott in my +nose allredy; but such a fishe cald Syrra never came within the compasse +of my nett. What art thou, a shrimpe, a dogg fish or a poore Jhon?[119] + +_Clowne_.[120] I am one that watcht the tyde to know what thou hast +caught, and have mony in my pockett to by thy draught. + +_Fisher_. And I am one thou seest that have only an empty wett nett, +but not so much as the tale of a spratte at thys tyme to sell for love +of mony. + +_Clowne_. I grant this is no Fryday and I at this tyme no cater for the +fishmarkett. I only cam to desyre thy judgement and counsell. + +_Fisher_. Go to the bench for judgment and to the lawe courts for +counsell, I am free of neather, only one of _Neptunes_ poore bastards, +a spawne of the sea, and nowe gladly desyres to be rydd of thee aland. + +_Clowne_. Onely one question resolve mee, and I have doone. + +_Fisher_. To bee well ridd of the I care not if I loose so much tyme. + +_Clowne_. But feythefully. + +_Fisher_. As I am honest peeterman.[121] + +_Clowne_. Observe mee then: +I saw a theif, comitting fellony; +I know the mayster of the thing was stolne, +I com unto this theif, as't might bee thee, +And make this covenant; eather give mee half +And make mee sharer or thou forfettest all, +I'l peach thee to the owner; in this case +What may I justly claime? + +_Fisher_. Rather than forfeit all I shoold yeild halfe. + +_Clowne_. Knwe then 'tis thy case, and my case a most playne case, and +concernes the booty in that cap-case.[122] I knowe the lord that wants +it and the mayster that owes[123] it; boath howe it was lost and where +it was lost. Com, unloose, unbuckle, unclaspe, uncase, lett's see then +what fortune hathe sente us, and so part it equally beetwixt us. + +_Fisher_. Staye, staye, my frend this my case must not be opend till +your case bee better lookt into. Thou knowest who lost it, I who fownd +it; thou the lord of it that was, I the owner that nowe is; thou who +did possess it, I who doth injoye it; hee had it, I have it; hee might +have kept it, I will keepe it; I venter'd for all, I will inherit all; +and theres thy pittifull case layde open. + +_Clowne_. First proove this to bee thyne. + +_Fisher_. I can and by the fisherman's rethorick. + +_Clowne_. Proceed sea-gull. + +_Fisher_. Thus land-spaniell; no man can say this is my fishe till hee +finde it in his nett. + +_Clowne_. Good. + +_Fisher_. What I catche is myne owne, my lands my goodds my copy-hold, +my fee-simple, myne to sell, myne to give, myne to lend, and myne to +cast away; no man claimes part, no man share, synce fishinge is free +and the sea common. + +_Clowne_.[124] If all bee common that the sea yeelds why then is not +that as much mine as thyne? + +_Fisher_. By that lawe, when wee bringe our fishe to the markett, if +every one may freely chuse what hee lykes and take where hee lyst, wee +shoold have quikly empty dorsers[125] and cleane stalls, but light +purses. + +_Clowne_. How can'st thou proove that to bee a fishe that was not bredd +in the water, that coold never swimme, that hathe neather roe nor milt, +scale nor finne, lyfe nor motion? Did ever man heare of a fishe cald a +budgett? What shape, what collor? + +_Fisher_. This shape, this collor, there's nowe within better then the +spawne of sturgeon; I must confesse indeed, they are rarely seene, and +seldom fownd; for this is the fyrst I ever catcht in all the tyme of my +fishinge. + +_Clowne_. All this sea-sophestry will not serve your turne, for where +my right is deteind mee by fayre meanes I will have it by force. + +_Fisher_. Of what I caught in the sea? + +_Clowne_. Yes, and what I catch hold on ashore. With what consciens +can'st thou denye mee part of the gaine, when the owner heareinge it is +in thy custody and within my knowledge, must eather find mee a principall +in the theft, or at least accessary to the fellony. + +_Fisher_. I'l showe thee a redy waye to prevent boathe. + +_Clowne_. How's that? + +_Fisher_. Marry, thus: go thou quietly thy way, I'l go peacably myne; +betraye thou mee to nobody, as I meane to impart to thee nothinge; +seeke thy preferment by land as I have doone myne by sea; bee thou mute, +I'l be dumbe; thou silent, I mumbudgett; thou dismisse mee, I'l acquitte +thee; so thou art neather theife nor accessary. + +_Clowne_. Syrrah, though you bee owner of the boate I'l steare my course +at healme. + +_Fisher_. Hands off, I saye. But hark a noyse within +Letts cease our controversy till wee see [_Noyse_. +An end of that. + +_Clowne_. Trew, and bee judg'd by the next quiet man wee meete. + +_Fisher_. Content. + + _Enter after a noyse or tumult, Ashburne, his wyfe, + Palestra, Scribonia and Godfrey_. + +_Woman_. I'l not beleeve a sillable thou speak'st; +False harts and false toonges go together still, +They boathe are quick in thee. + +_Ashb_. Have patience woman. + +_Woman_. I have ben too longe a grizell. Not content +To have thy hawnts abroad, where there are marts +And places of lewd brothelry inoughe +Wheare thou maiest wast thy body, purse and creditt, +But thou wooldst make thy private howse a stewes! + +_Ashb_. But heare me, wyfe. + +_Wom_. I'l heare none but myselfe. +Are your legges growne so feeble on the suddeine +They feyle when you shoold travell to your whores, +But you must bringe them home and keepe them heere +Under my nose? I am not so past my sences +But at this age can smell your knavery. + +_Pal_. Good woman, heare's none suche. + +_Woman_. Bold baggadge, peace! +'Tis not your turne to prate yet; lust and impudens +I know still goe togeather.[126] Shewes it well +In one thats of thy yeares and gravity, +That ought to bee in lyfe and government +To others an example, nowe to doate +So neere the grave! to walke before his dooer +With a younge payer of strumpetts at his tale! +Naye, make his honest and chast wyfe no better +Then a madam makarell![127] + +_Godfr_. Why, this stormes woorse then that until'd the howse! + +_Ashb_. But understand mee: +Itt is meare pitty and no bad intent, +No unchast thought but my meare charity +In the remembrans of our longe lost child, +To showe som love to these distressed maydens. + +_Woman_. Sweete charity! nay, usury withall! +For one chyld lost, whose goodnes might have blest +And bin an honor to our family, +To bringe mee home a cuple of loose thinges! +I know not what to terme them, but for thee, +Owld fornicator, that jad'st mee at home +And yet can fend [?] a yonge colt's toothe abroad, +Ould as I am myne eyes are not so dimme +But can discerne this without spectacles. +Hence from my gate, you syrens com from sea, +Or as I lyve I'l washe your painteinges off +And with hotte skaldeinge water instantly. + [_Exit_. + +_Godfr_. Nay then, sweeteharts, you canott staye, you have had could +interteinment. + +_Pal_. The land's to us as dreadfull as the seas, +For wee are heare, as by the billows, tost +From one feare to another. + +_Ashb_. Pretty sowles, +Despyer not you of comfort; I'l not leive you +To the least danger till som newes returne +From him that undertakes your patronadge. +You, syrrah, usher them into the fryary, +Whence none dares force them. I have a cross wyfe you see, +And better you then I take sanctuary. + +_Scrib_. Wee will be sweyde by you as one in whome +Wee yet have fownd all goodnes. + +_Ashb_. Leive them theere +To safety, then returne. + + [_Ex't. ma: Ashb_.[128] + +_Clown_. What say'st thou to this gentleman? + +_Fisher_. No man better.--Now it will go on my syde; this is my owne +master, sure hee cannot bee so unatrall to give sentens against his +owne natural servant.--Syr, good daye. + +_Ashb_. Gramercyes, I in truth much suffered for thee, +Knowing howe rashly thou exposd thyself +To such a turbulent sea. + +_Clown_. I likewyse, Syr, salute you. + +_Ashb_. Thanks, good frend. + +_Clown_. But, syr, is this your servant.[129] + +_Ashb_. Yes, I acknowledge him; +And thou I thinke belongst to Mr _Raphael_, +Imployde about these women. + +_Clown_. Yes I acknowledge it; but you are sure hee's yours? + +_Ashb_. Once againe I doo confesse him myne. + +_Clown_. Then heare mee speake. + +_Fisher_. Heare mee your servant.[130] + +_Ashb_. I'l heare the stranger fyrst. + +_Clown_. In this you doo but justyce, I pray tell mee[131] ... Sea, is +this a fishe or no, or if a fishe what fishe do you call it (peace you). + +_Ashb_. It is no fishe nor fleshe. + +_Clowne_. Nor good redd herringe--fisherman, y'r gone. + +_Fisher_. Thou art deceav'd I am heare still, and may have heare for +ought I knowe to by all the redd herringe in _Marcell[es]_. + +_Clowne_. Did you ever heare of a fishe cal'd a budgett? + +_Ashb_. I protest never synce I knew the sea. + +_Clowne_. You are gone againe fisherman. + +_Fisher_. I am heare still; and now, master, heare mee. + +_Clowne_. Lett mee proceede. This bagge, this knapsacke, or this +portmanteau hee woold make a fishe bycause tooke in his nett. Nowe, +syr, I com to you with this ould proverbe, all's not fishe that com's +to nett.--There you are, gone againe. + +_Fisher_. But-- + +_Clowne_. No butt, nor turbutt. I suspect this budgett to be the +bawde's, in which are the discoveryes of this yonge woman's coontry +and parents. Now, syr, for their sakes, for my masters sake, for all +our sakes use the authority of a mayster to searche, and showe the +power you have over a servant to comand. + +_Ashb_. Will hee or not, hee shall assent to that. + +_Clowne_. A meere trick to undoo mee, ere I knwe +What I am wanting. + +_Ashb_. Call in the damseles, +Intreate them fayrely heather; say wee hope +We shall have good newes for them. + +_Fisher_. I will part with it only on this condition, that if there +bee nothinge in it which concernes them, the rest may returne to mee +unrifled and untutcht. + +_Ashb_. Did it conteyne the valew of a myne +I clayme no part in it. + +_Fisher_. Nor you? + +_Clowne_. Nor I. + +_Fisher_. By the contents of this budgett. + +_Clowne_. I sweare. + +_Ashb_. I vowe. + +_Fisher_. Then there tak't to you, mayster, and once more +Good lucke on my syde! + + _Enter Godfrey, usheringe in Palestra and Scribonia_. + +_Palest_, You sent to speake with us? + +_Ashb_. I did indeed, +Saye, knowe you this? y'have leave, surveigh it well. + +_Pal_. This? knowe I this? oh, my _Scribonia_, see! +Yes, and by this alone may knowe myself. +Looke well upon't, deare syster; extasy +May dimme myne eyes, it cannot purblind thyne. + +_Scrib_. Itt is the same, _Palestra_. + +_Fisher_. Then sure I shall not bee the same man in the afternoone +that I was in the morninge. + +_Scrib_. In this is a greate masse of wealthe included, +All that the bawde hath by corruption gott +In many a thrifty yeare. + +_Fisher_. Comfort for mee. + +_Ashb_. But tell me is there ought of yours included, +Which you may justly chalendge? + +_Pal_. Of that gould +No not the valewe of one poor deneere:[132] +'Tis all base brokadge boathe of sinne and shame +Of which wee neare weare guilty; yet inclosed +There shall you find a cabinet of myne, +Where boathe my naturall parents you may see +In a small roome intended. + +_Fisher_. An unatrall child thou art to trust thy naturall parents +into a leatheren bagge and leave them in the bottom of y'e sea. + +_Pal_. Showe mee the caskett: if before you ope it +I do not name you every parcell in't +Lett it no more bee myne, mak't your own pryse; +But such small trifles as I justly chalenge +And cannot yeeld you the least benefitt, +Of them let mee bee mystresse, synce they are +The somme and crowne of all my future hopes, +But from my tender infancy deteined. +As for the gould and Jewells mak't your spoyle; +Of that I clayme no portione. + +_Fisher_. I accept of the condition. + +_Ashb_. Itt is boathe just and honest; we'll have no juggling, +And, _Gripus_, synce the busines concernes you, +Have you a curious ey too't. + +_Fisher_. Feare not mee, for boathe at sea and land I was ever a goodd +marksman. + +_Ashb_. The caskett is nowe open'd: what coms fyrste? + +_Pal_. Above, the clothes in which I fyrst was swathde, +The linnen fyrst worne in myne infancy. + +_Ashb_. These are child's swathinges; whether thyne or no +It is to mee uncertaine. To the rest. + +_Pal_. And next to these is a ritche handkercher, +Where you shall find in golden letters wrought +My place of byrthe, myne and my father's name. + +_Ashb_. Heare's such a handkercher, such letters workt: +Speake them, as I shall reade them. + +_Pal. Mirable_. + +_Ashb_. Right! _Myrable_. + +_Pal. Daughter of Jhon Ashburne, merchant_. + +_Ashb_. Trewe: of _Jhon Ashburne_ merchant--Oh my sowle! +--Proceed, prithee proceede. + +_Pal. And borne in Christ-chyrch, London, Anno_-- + +_Ashb_. 160(?)0.[133] +Oh you Imortall powers. I stagger yet +Beetwixt despayer and hope, and canott guesse +Which weye my fate will swaye mee; oh speake, speake! +Thy mothers name? + +_Pal_. Reade it in sylver letters pleynly wrought +In the next Imbrodered Linnen. + +_Ashb_. If that fayle not +I have a firme rock to build upon.-- +_The guift of Isabell to her daughter Mirable_.-- +Oh frend, oh servant! + +_Clown_. How is't, syr? + +_Fisher_. How now, mayster? + +_Ashb_. I that so many yeares have been despoyl'd, +Neclected, shattered, am made upp againe, +Repaired, and new created. + +_Pal_. Search but further +And there's a golden brooch in it, a diamond, +Upon my byrthday geven mee by my father. + +_Ashb_. I have longe sought and nowe at lengthe have found +That diamond, thee my doughter. + +_Pal_. How, syr? + +_Ashb_. Shee that so late excluded thee my house +And shutt these gates against thee, _Isabell_ +Thy mother, these weare her owne handyworkes +Bestowde upon thee in thyne infancy +To make us nowe boathe happy in thy yoouth. +I am _Jhon Ashburne_ marchant, _London, Christ Church_; +The yeare, place, tyme agree thee to bee myne, +Oh merher [mirror] of thy sex, my _Myrable_! + +_Pal_. This surplusadge of joy should not bee forged. + +_Ashb_. No more than these noates are infalleble. + +_Pal_. Thus then in all Humility I kneele +To you my acknowledgd father. + +_Ashb_. Ryse, my guerle. + +_Fisher_. Had I not drawne this leeward out of the sea, where had it +bin? all drownd by this. + +_Ashb_. No triflinge nowe: post, _Godfrey_, to my wyfe, +Tell her no more then thou hast heard and seene: +Shee's hard of faythe, relate it punctually, +Beare her (oh lett me borrowe them so longe) +These better to confirme her; bid her hast, +And for the truth add these as testimony:-- +Nay, art thou heare still? + +_Godf_. Lyke a shadowe vanisht, +But to returne a substance. [_Exit Godfrey_.[134] + +_Ashb_. Oh my deare doughter!--where's young _Raphael's_ man +Beare him of all what thou hast seene a perfect +And trew relation. + +_Clowne_. Ay, syr. + +_Ashb_.[135] Bidd him too, +All business sett apart, make hether. + +_Clown_. Ay, syr. + +_Ashb_. Tell him that his _Palestra_ is my _Mirable_. + +_Clown_. Ay, syr. + +_Ashb_. And that shee is my doughter, my lost child. + +_Clowne_. Ay, syr. + +_Ashb_. And that of all this I am most assur'd. + +_Clown_. Ay, syr. + +_Ashb_. Thou wilt not doo all this? + +_Clown_. I will, you lye, syr. + +_Ashb_. Howe, syr. + +_Cl_. Ay, syr. + +_Ashb_. Saye that this daye shee shalbee made his wyfe. + +_Cl_. Ay, syr. + +_Ashb_. Why then add winges unto your heeles and fly, syr. + +_Cl_. Ay syr, but ere I take my flight, for this good servyce +You'll mediate with him for my freedom? + +_Ashb_. So. + +_Cl_. And woo your doughter to doo so too? + +_Ashb_. So. + +_Cl_. And, syr, to him I shalbee thankefull. + +_Ashb_. So. + +_Cl_. Your doughters and your servant ever. + +_Ashb_. So. + +_Cl_. To go, roonne, ryde of all your arrants. + +_Ashb_. So. + +_Cl_. In all this you'l bee slack in nothinge? + +_Ashb_. So. + +_Cl_. And you'l heareafter love mee still? + +_Ashb_. So, so. + +_Cl_. Howe, but so, so? + +_Ashb_. Yes, so and so and so. + +_Cl_. Why, then I go, go, goe. [_Exit Clown_. + +_Ashb_. But one thinge I intreate you, _Mirable_: +This thyrteene yeares, since by rude creditors +Tost and opprest, nay rent out of myne owne, +I have bin forct to seeke my fate abroad, +Howe weare you ravisht thence, or since that tyme +What strange adventures past? + + _Enter Godfrey, and the wyfe with the handkercher_. + +_Mirable_. My mother's presence +Must now prevent my answer. + +_Wyfe_. Where is shee? oh wheare, wheare? for by these tokens, +These of her childhood most unfallid signes, +I knwe her for my doughter. + +_Mir_. I have bene +The longe and wretched owner of that cabinet +With all therein contein'd. + +_Wyfe_. Into thy boosom +Oh lett mee rayne a shower of joyfull teares +To welcom thee, my _Mirable_. + +_Godf_. You threatned her but nowe with skaldinge water; mee thinks you +had more neede to comfort her with hott waters, for sure shee canott bee +warme synce shee came so late out of the could bathe. + +_Wyf_. Make fyares, bid them make ready wholesom brothes, +Make warme the bedd, and see the sheetes well ayred. +Att length then have I fownd thee? + +_Ashb_. But what's shee +That's in thy fellow-shippe? + +_Mir_. My fellowe sharer +In all misfortunes; and for many yeares +So deere to mee, I canot tast a blessednes +Of which shee's not partaker. + +_Wyfe_. For thy sake +Shee shall bee myne too, and (in her) I'l thinke +The powers above have for my single losse +Given mee at lengthe a duble recompense. + +_Scrib_. For which hee that protects all inocence +Will in good tyme reward you. + +_Wyfe_. Praye, in, in; +This could is prejuditiall to your Healthes. +I'l count you boathe my twinnes. + + [_Ext. Wife, Palestra, and Scribonia_. + +_Ashb_. Strange alteration! +Skoldinge is turn'd to pittye, spleen and mallyce +To mercye and compassion. + +_Fisher_. But your promisse +Tutchinge my budgett? + +_Ashb. Godfreye_, beare it in +And lodge it safe; there's no tyme for that; +We'll talke of it herafter. + +_Godf_. Fellow _Gripus_, I am made for this tyme porter. Ladeys, your +trusty treasurer. + [_Ext. Ashbourne and Godfrey_. + +_Gripus_. These are the fishermen and I the fishe catcht in the nett; +well my comfort is, thoughe my booty have made me no ritcher then I was, +poorer then I am I canott bee. Nowe[136] wherein is the ritche more +happy then the poore? I thinke rather lesse blessed and that shall +approue by this excellent good ballet, thoughe sett to a scurvy tune. + + Lett ech man speake as he's possest + I hold the poore man's state most blest. + For if longe lyfe contentment bredes, + In that the poore the ritche exceedes; + + The ritch man's dayes are short, as spent + In pleasures and supposed content; + Whylst to us poore men care and troble + Makes every hower wee wast seeme duble. + + He that hathe ech daye to his backe + Chandge of gaye suites, whylst wee alacke + Have but one coate, that coorse and ould, + Yet it defends us from the could; + + As warme too in an equll eye + As they in all theere purple dye; + 'Mongst all theere store, they weare, we see, + But one at once, and so do wee. + + The ritche that at his table feasts + With choyse of dayntyes, sundry guests, + In all his plenty can but fill + One belly; so the poore can still + + With cheese and onions and disguest[137] + As well with them as th'others feast. + The pesent with his homespoon lasse + As many merry howers may passe + + As coortiers with there sattin guerles, + Though ritchly dect in gould and pearles; + And, though but pleyne, to purpose wooe, + Nay ofttymes with lesse danger too. + +And yet for all this I have one crotchett left in my fate to bate a +new hooke for the gold in the portmanteau. + + [_Exit_. + + + + +_Actus 4to_. + +SCENA 3A. + + + _Enter Dennis with the Fryar from aboue upon his backe_. + +_Den_. Whether a knavishe or a sinneful load, +Or one or bothe I know not; massye it is, +And if no frend will for mee,[138] I'l bee sorry +For myne owne heavinesse. And heare's a place, +Though neather of the secretest nor the best, +To unlade myself of this Iniquity. +When I satt late astryde upon the wall, +To lyft the ladder this waye for descent, +Mee thought the fryar lookt lyke S _George_ a horsback +And I his trusty steede. But nowes no triflynge: +Hee's[139] where hee is in Comons, wee discharged, +Boathe of suspect and murther; which lett the covent +To-morrowe morninge answere howe they cann. +I'I backe the waye wee came; what's doon, none sawe +I'th howse nor herde; they answer then the Lawyer. + [_Exit_. + + _Enter Fryar Richard_. + +_Fr. R_. Of all Infirmityes belonginge to us +I hould those woorst that will not lett a man +Rest in his bedd a-nights. And I of that, +By reason of a late could I have gott, +Am at this instant guilty; which this rushinge +From a warme bedd in these wild frosty nights +Rather augments then helpes; but all necessityes +Must bee obeyde. But soft, there's one before mee: +By this small glimpse of moone light I perceave him +To bee Fryar _Jhon_, my antient adversary.[140] +Why _Jhon_? why _Jhon_? what! not speake! why, then +I see 'tis doon of malyce, and of purpose +Only to shame mee, since hee knowes the rest +Take notyce what a loose man I am growne. +Nay prithee, sweete fryar _Jhon_, I am in hast, +Horrible hast; doo but release mee nowe, +I am thy frend for ever. What! not heare! +Feigne to bee deaf of purpose, and of slight! +Then heare is that shall rouse you. Are you falne? + [_Eather[141] strykes him with a staffe or casts a stone_. +What, and still mute and sylent? nay, not styrr? +I'l rowse you with a vengance! not one limbe +To doo his woonted offyce, foot nor hand? +Not a pulse beatinge, no breathe? what no motion? +Oh mee of all men lyvinge most accurst! +I have doon a fearefull murder, which our former +Inveterate hate will be a thousand testats +That I for that insidiated his lyfe. +The deedes apparant and the offens past pardon. +There's nowe no waye but fly: but fly! which way? +The cloyster gates are all bar'd and fast lockt; +These suddeine mischieffes shuld have suddeine shifts. +About it breyne and in good tyme. I hate![142] +Suspitious rumors have bene lately spread +And more then whispered of th'incontinent love +Fryar _Jhon_ boare to the knight's Lady. Had I meanes +Howe to conveighe his body o'er the wall +To any or the least part of the howse, +It might bee thought the knight in jelosy +Had doone this murder in a just revendge. +Let me surveighe th'ascent: happy occation! +To see howe redy still the devill is +To helpe his servants! heare's a ladder left: +Upp, Fryare, my purpose is to admitt you nowe +Of a newe cloyster. I will sett his body +Upright in the knights porche and leave my patron +To answer for the falt, that hath more strength +Then I to tugge with Benches. + [_Exit. Carry him up_. + + _Enter the knight, half unredy, his Lady after him_. + +_D'Avern_. Ho, _Denis_! + +_Lady_. Give mee reason, I intreate, +Of these unquiet sleepes. + +_D'Av_. You dogg mee, Lady, +Lyke an Ill genius. + +_Lady_. You weare woont to call mee +Your better angel. + +_D'Av_. So I shall doo still, +Would you beetake you to your quiet sleepes +And leave mee to my wakinges. + +_Lady_. There beelonges +Unto one bedd so sweete a sympathy, +I canott rest without you. + +_D'Av_. To your chamber! +There may growe els a woorse antypathy +Beetwixt your love and myne: I tell you, Lady, +Myne is no woman's busines. No reply: +Your least insured presence att this tyme +Will but begett what you would loathe to beare, +Quarrell and harshe unkindnes. + +_Lady_. Ever your lipps +Have bene too mee a lawe.--I suspect more +Then I would apprehend with willingnes; +But though prevention canott helpe what's past, +Conjugall faythe may expresse itself at last. + [_Exit Lady_. + +_D'Av_. Why, _Denis_, ho! awake and ryse in hast! + +_Denis_. What, is your Lordshipp madd! + +_D'Av_. Knowest thou what's past +And canst thou skape this danger? + +_Denis_. Did I not tell you +That all was safe, the body too disposed +Better then in his grave? + +_D'Av_. Strange thoughts sollicite mee. +Upp and inquire about the cloyster wall +What noyse thou hearest, if any private whisperinge +Or louder uprore 'bout the murder ryse. + +_Denis_. I shall, I shall, Syr. [_Exit Dennis_. + +_D'Av_. Guilt, thoughe it weare a smooth and peacefull face, +Yet is within full of seditious thoughts +That makes continuall follie. [_Exit_. + + _Enter Fryar Richard with Fryar Jhon upon his backe_. + +_Fr. Rich_. This is the porch that leades into the hall; +Heare rest for thyne and myne own better ease. +This havinge done, to prevent deathe and shame +By the same stepps I'l back the way I came. + + [_Fryer sett up and left. Exit_. + + _Enter Denis half unredy_. + +_Denis_. This is the penalty belonges to servyce: +Masters still plott to theire owne private ends, +And wee that are theire slaves and ministers +Are cheef still in the troble; they ingrosse +The pleasure and the proffitt, and wee only +The swett and payne. My Lord hath doon a mischeef +And nowe I must not sleepe.--What art thou? +None of the howse sure, I should knwe thy face then: +Beesydes my Lord gives no such lyverye. +Nowe in the name of heaven, what art thou? speake, +Speake if thou beest a man! or if a ghost +Then glyde hence lyke a shadowe! tis the--oh!-- +The fryar hathe nimbly skipt back over the wall, +Hath lyke a surly Justyce bensht himself +And sitts heare to accuse uss! where's my Lord? +Helpe, Helpe! his murdered ghost is com from Hell +On earth to cry _Vindicta_![143] + + _Enter L. D'Averne_. + +_D'Av_. What clamors this? + +_Denis_. Oh Syr-- + +_D'Av_. Why, howe is't, _Denis_? + +_Denis_. Never woorse--the fryar, Syr-- + +_D'Av_. What of him? + +_Denis_. The slave that would not leive the place but carried, +Is of himself com back. + +_D'Av_. Whether? + +_Denis_. Looke theere. + +_D'Av_. That which I took to bee meare fantasy +I finde nowe to bee real; murder is +A cryinge sinne, and canot be conceal'd. +Yet his returne is straunge. + +_Denis_, 'Tis most prodigious; +The very thought of it hath put a cricke +Into my necke allredy. + +_D'Av_. One further desperate tryall I will make +And putt it too adventer. + +_Denis_. Pray hows that, Syr? + +_D'Av_. There's in my stable an ould stallion, once +A lusty horse but now past servyce. + +_Denis_. Godd [_sic_], syr. + +_D'Av_. Him I'l have sadled and capparisond. +Heare in the hall a rusty Armor hanges, +Pistolls in rotten cases, an ould sword, +And a cast lance to all these sutable. +I'l have them instantly tooke downe. + +_Den_. And then? + +_D'Av_. In these I'l arme the fryar from head to knee; +Mount him into his saddle, with stronge cords +There bind him fast, and to his gauntlet hand +Fasten his lance; for basses[144] tis no matter, +These his grey skyrts will serve. Thus arm'd, thus mounted, +And thus accoutred, with his beiver upp, +Turne him out of the gates, neither attended +With squire or page, lyke a stronge knight adventures +To seeke a desperate fortune. + +_Denis_. Hee may so if hee please +Ryde post unto the Devill. + +_D'Av_. This I'l see doone, +'Tis a decree determinde. + +_Denis_. Capp a pe +I'l see him arm'd and mounted. + + [_Exeunt_. + + _Enter Fryar Richard_. + +_Fr. R_. This murder canott bee so smothered upp +But I in th'end shall paye for't; but feare still +Is wittye in prevention. Nowe for instance +There's but one refuge left mee, that's to flye: +The gates are shutt upon mee and myself +Am a badd foottman, yet these difficultyes +I can thus helpe; there to this place beelonges +A mare that every second d[a]yes' imployde +To carry corne and fetch meele from the mill, +Distant som half league off; I by this beast +Will fashion myne escape.--What, baker, ho! + +_Within Baker_. What's hee that calls so early? + +_Fr. R_. I, Fryar _Richard_. + +_Baker_. What would you have that you are stirringe thus +An hower before the Dawne. + +_Fr. Rich_. I cannott sleepe +And understandinge there's meale redy ground, +Which thou must fetch this morninge from the mill, +I'l save thee so much pey[n]es. Lend mee the beast, +And lett mee forthe the gate; I'l bringe boathe back +Ere the bell ringe for mattens. + +_Baker_. Marry, Fryar _Richard_, +With all my hart, and thanke yee. I'l but ryse +And halter her, then lett you forthe the gate; +You'l save mee so much labour. + +_Fr. Rich_. This falls out +As I coold wishe, and in a fortunate hower; +For better then to too legges trust to fower. + +_Explicit Actus 4_. + + + + +_Act_ 5. + +SCENE PRIMA. + + + _Enter Thomas Ashburne the younger brother to John, + a merchant, with one of the Factors_.[145] + +_Thomas_. Are all things safe abord? + +_Factor_. As you can wish, sir; +And notwithstandinge this combustious stryfe +Betwixt the winds and Seas, our ship still tight, +No anchor, cable, tackle, sayle or mast +Lost, though much daunger'd; all our damadge is +That where our puerpose was for _Italy_ +We are driven into _Marcellis_. + +_Thomas_. That's myne unhappines +That beinge come upon a brother's quest +Longe absent from his country, who of late +After confinement, penury, distresse +Hath gained a hopefull fortune, and I travelling +To beare him tydeinges of a blest estate +Am in my voyage thwarted. + +_Factor_. In what province +Resydes hee at this present? + +_Thomas_. His last letters +That I receav'd weare dated from _Leagahorne_; +Nowe wee by this infortnate storme are driven +Into _Marcellis_ roads. + +_Factor_. For the small tyme +Of our abode heare what intend you, Sir? + +_Thomas_. To take in victuall and refresh our men, +Provyde us of thinges needefull, then once more +With all the expeditious hast wee can +Sett sayle for _Florens_. + +_Factor_. Please you, Sir, +I'l steward well that busines. + +_Thomas_. I'th meanetyme +I shall find leisure to surveigh the towne, +The keyes, the temples, forts and monuments; +For what's the end of travell but to better us +In judgment and experiens? What are these? +Withdrawe and give them streete-roome. + + _Enter Raphael, Treadeway and the Clowne_. + +_Raph_. Hath my _Palestra_ fownd her parents then? + +_Clowne_. As sure as I had lost you. + +_Raph_. And free borne? + +_Clowne_. As any in _Marcellis_. + +_Raph_. _Englishe_, sayst thou? + +_Clowne_. Or _Brittishe_, which you please. + +_Raph_. Her trew name _Mirable_ +And _Ashburne's_ doughter? + +_Clowne_. Suer as yours is _Raphaels_ +And _Tread-wayes_ his. + +_Thomas_. _Mirable_ and _Ashburne_! + +_Factor_. Names that concerne you, Sir. + +_Thomas_. Peace, listen further. + +_Raph_. Thou with these woords hast extasyde my sowle +And I am all in rapture. Then hee's pleasd +Wee too shalbee contracted? + +_Clowne_. 'Tis his mynd, Sir. + +_Raph_. The moother, too, consents? + +_Clowne_. So you shall finde, Sir. + +_Raph_. And _Mirable_ pleasd, too? + +_Clowne_. Shes so inclind, Sir. + +_Raph_. And this the very day? + +_Clowne_. The tyme assignd, Sir. + +_Raph_. Shee shalbee suerly myne. + +_Clowne_. As vowes can bind, Sir. + +_Raph_. Thou sawest all this? + +_Clowne_. I am suer I was not blind, Sir. + +_Raph_. And all this shall bee done? + +_Clown_. Before you have din'd, Sir. + +_Raph_. Oh, frend, eather pertake with mee in Joy +And beare part of this surplus, I shall else +Dye in a pleasinge surfett. + +_Tread_. Frend, I doo +Withall intreate you interceade for mee +To your fayre loves companion, for if all +Th'estate I have in _France_ can by her freedom, +Shee shall no longer faynt beneathe the yoake +Of lewdnes and temptation. + +_Raph_. The extent +Of that fyxt love I ever vowde to thee +Thou in this act shall find. + +_Tread_. And it shall seale it, +Beyond all date or limitt. + +_Raph_. Come, hasten, frend, methinks at lengthe I spy +After rough tempests a more open skye. + + [_Exeunt[146] Raphael and Treadway_. + +_Clowne_. And I will after you home, Syr, +Since so merrily blowes the wind, Sir. + +_Thomas_. Staye, frend, I am a stranger in these parts +And woold in one thinge gladly bee resolved. + +_Clowne_. I am in haste. + +_Thomas_. That little leasure thou bestowest on mee +I shalbee gladd to pay for; nay, I will. +Drinke that for my sake. + +_Clowne_. Not this, Syr, as it is; for I can make a shifte to dissolve +hard mettall into a more liquid substance. A cardeq![147] oh Syr, I can +distill this into a quintessence cal'd _Argentum potabile_.[148] + +_Thomas_. I heard you name one _Ashburne_; can you bring mee +To th'sight of such a man? + +_Clowne_. Easily I can, Syr. But for another peice of the same stampe, +I can bringe you to heare him, to feele him, to smell, to tast him, and +to feede upon him your whole fyve senses. + +_Thomas_. There's for thee, though I have no hope at all +To finde in _France_ what I in _Florens_ seeke. +And though my brother have no child alyve, +As longe synce lost when I was rob'd of myne, +Yet for the namesake, to my other travells +I'l add this little toyle, though purposeles. +I have about mee letters of Import +Dyrected to a merchant of that name +For whose sake (beeinge one to mee intyred) +I only crave to see the gentleman. + +_Clowne_. Beleeve mee Syr I never love to jest, with those that +beforehand deale with me in earnest. Will you follow mee? + +_Thomas_. Prooves hee my brother, and his dowghter found, +Lost by my want of care, (which canott bee +All reasons well considered) and I so happy +To bringe him newes of a recovered state, +Who to his foes so longe hathe been a prey, +I'd count my monthes and years but from this day. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +SCENE 2. + + + _Enter at one door D'Averne, and Dennis with the Fryar armed. + At the other Fryar Richard and the Baker_. + +_D'Averne_. So nowe all's fitt, the daylight's not yet broake; +Mount him and lock him in the saddle fast, +Then turn him forthe the gates. + +_Dennis_. Pray, Syr, your hand to rayse him. + +_D'Av_. Nowe lett him post, whether his fate shall guide him. + + [_Exeunt_. + + _Ent. Rich. and Baker_. + +_Baker_. The mare's ready. + +_Fr. R_. Only the key to ope the cloyster gate, +Then all is as it shoold be. + +_Baker_. Tak't, there tis. +But make hast, good Fryar _Richard_; you will else +Have no new bredd to dinner. + +_Fr. R_. Feare not, baker; +I'l proove her mettall. Thus I back one mare +Least I shoold ryde another. [_Exit_. + +_Baker_. It is the kindest novyce of my consciens +That ere woare hood or coole. + + [_A noyse within. Trampling of Horses_. + +What noyse is that? now by the Abbot's leave +I will looke out and see. + [_Clere_. + + _Enter Averne and Dennis_. + +_D'Av_. Howe nowe? the newes? +The cause of that strange uprore? + +_Den_. Strange indeed, +But what th'event will bee, I cannott guesse. + +_D'Av_. Howe is it, speake. + +_Den_. I had no sooner, as your Lordshipp badd, +Putt him upon his voyadge, turn'd him out, +But the ould resty stallion snuft and neighd, +And smelt, I thinke, som mare, backt (I perceavd +By the moone light) by a Fryar, in whose pursuite +Our new made horseman with his threatninge lance, +Pistolles, and rotten armor made such noyse +That th'other, frighted, clamours throughe the streetes +Nothinge but deathe and murder. + +_D'Av_. But the sequell?-- +The clamour still increasethe. [_Noyse_. + + _Enter the Baker rooninge_. + +_Baker_. Oh never, never, +Was seene such open mallyce! + +_Den_. What's the busines? + +_Baker_. Give mee but leave to breath--Oh especially in a cloyster! + +_Den_. Out wee't, man. + +_Baker_. The novyce _Richard_, to save mee a labour, +Borrowed my mare to fetch meale for the mill. +I knowe not howe the devill Fryar _Jhon_ knew't, +But all in armor watch't him gooinge out +And after spurrs to chardge him, beeinge unarmd, +0 suer if hee cannott reatch him with his lance +Hee'l speede him with his pistolls. + +_Denis_. All's well yet. + [_Noyse_. + +_Baker_. This noyse hath cal'd much people from there bedds, +And troobled the whole villadge. + +_Fr. R_. (_within_). Hold, hold, I do confesse the murder. + +_Baker_. Suer hee hath slayne him, for murder is confest. + +_D'Av_. Tis better still. + + _Enter Ashburne, Godfrey, &c_. + +_Godf_. Was never knowne the lyke! + +_Baker_. Is _Ritchard_ slayne? +I sawe Fryar _Jhon_, arm'd dreadfully with weapons +Not to be worne in peace, pursue his lyfe; +All which I'l tell the abbott. + [_Exit Baker_. + +_Ashb_. Most strange it is that the pursude is fownd +To bee the murderer, the pursuer slayne. +Howe was it, _Godfrey_? thou wast upp beefore mee +And canst discoorse it best. + +_Godfr_. Thus, Syr: at noyse of murder, with the tramplinge +Of horse and ratlinge armor in the streetes, +The villadgers weare wakend from there sleepes; +Som gap't out of there windowes, others venter'd +Out of theere doores; amongst which I was one +That was the foremost, and saw _Ritchard_ stopt +At a turninge lane, then overtooke by _Jhon_; +Who not him self alone, but even his horse +Backing the tother's beast, seemd with his feete +To pawe him from his saddle; att this assault +Friar _Richard_ cryes, hold, hold and haunt mee not +For I confesse the murder! folke came in +Fownd th'one i'th sadle dead, the t'other sprallinge +Upon the earthe alyve, still cryinge out +That hee had doun the murder. + +_D'Av_. Exellent still; withdrawe, for wee are saffe. + + _Enter the Abbott, the baker, Fryar Richard, prisoner + and guarded, &c_.[149]-- + +_Abbott_. These mischeefes I foretould; what's mallyce elsse +Than murder halff comitted? though th'event +Bee allmost above apprehension strange, +Yet synce thyne owne confession pleades thee guilty +Thou shalt have leagall tryall. + +_Fr. Rich_. I confess +I was the malefactor and deserve +Th'extremity of Lawe; but woonder much +Howe hee in such a short tyme after death +Should purchase horse and weapons. + +_Abbot_. Murder's a sinne +Which often is myraculously reveal'd. +Lett justyce question that; beare him to prison, +The t'other to his grave. + +_Baker_. Beeinge so valiant after deathe mee thinkes hee deserves the +honor to bee buried lyke a knight in his compleate armor. + +_Abbot_. These thinges shoold not bee trifled. Honest frendes, +Retyre you to your homes; these are our chardge. +Wee will acquaint our patron with this sadd +And dyre desaster; fyrst his counsell use, +Next as wee maye our Innocens excuse. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +SCENA 3, ET ULTIMA. + + + _Enter Mildewe and Sarleboyes_.[150] + +_Mild_. May the disease of _Naples_ now turn'd _Frensh_ +Take bothe the Judge and Jurors! they have doomd +The fayre _Palestra_ from mee. + +_Sarl_. So they had +_Scribonia_ too, and mulcted us beesydes, +But that in part they did comiserate +Our so greate losse by sea. + +_Mild_. This is the curse +Belonges to all us bawdes: gentle and noble, +Even th'ouldest fornicator, will in private +Make happy use of us with hugges and brybes; +But let them take us at the publick bench, +Gainst consciens they will spitt at us and doome us +Unto the post and cart. Oh the coruptnes +Of these dissemblinge letchers! + +_Sarlab_. 'Tis well yet +You have reserved one virgin left for sale; +Of her make your best proffitt. + +_Mild_.[151] A small stocke +To rayse a second fortune; yet com, frend, +Wee will go seeke her out. + + _Enter Gripus the Fisherman_. + +_Fisher_. No budgett to bee com by; my ould mayster, +Hee stands on consciens to deliver it +To the trew owner, but I thinke in consciens +To cheate mee and to keepe it to him selfe; +Which hee shall never doo, to prevent which +I'l openly proclayme it. + [_Oh yes_! + If any userer or base exacter, + Any noble marchant or marchant's factor, + Bee't marchant venterer or marchant Taylor + Bee hee Mr. Pilot, botswyne or saylor-- + + _Enter Godfrey to them_. + +_Godf_. Hist, _Gripus_, hyst! + +_Fish_. Peace, fellowe _Godfrey_. I'l now play the blabber.-- +If eather passinger owner or swabber[152] +That in the sea hathe lost a leather budgett +And to the Dolphins, whales or sharkes, doth grudge itt-- + +_Godf_. Wilt thou betraye all? I'I go tell my mayster. + +_Fish_. Yes, _Godfrey_, goe and tell him all and spare not, +I am growne desperate; if thou dost I care not. + +_Mild_. Hee talkt of a leatheren budgett lost at sea; +More of that newes would please mee. + +_Fish_. Bee hee a Cristian or beleeve in _Mawmett_[153] +I such a one this night tooke in my drawnett. + +_Mild_. My soone, my child, nay rather, thou young man, +I'l take thee for my father, for in this +Sure thou hast new begott mee. + +_Fish_. Blessing on thee! +But shoold I have a thousand children more, +I almost durst presume I never should have +Another more hard favored. + +_Mild_. Thou art any thinge. +But hast thou such a budgett? + +_Fisher_. Syr, I have +And new tooke from the sea. What woldst thou give +And have it safe? + +_Mild_. I'l give a hundred crownes. + +_Fish_. Tush, offer me a sowse[154] but not in th'eare; +I will barr that afore hand. + +_Mild_. And all safe, +I'l give thee then too hondred. + +_Fish_. Offer me a cardeq! + +_Mild_. Three hondred, 4, nay fyve +So nothinge bee diminisht. + +_Fish_. I will have +A thousand crowns or nothinge. + +_Mild_. That growes deepe. + +_Fish_. Not so deepe as the sea was. + +_Mild_. Make all safe, +And I will give a thousand. + +_Fish_. Tis a match, +But thou wilt sweare to this. + +_Mild_. Give mee myne othe. + +_Fish_. If, when first I shall beehold + My leatheren bagge that's stuft with gould, + At sight thereof I paye not downe + To _Gripus_ every promist crowne-- + Now say after mee. + May _Mildewe_ I in my best age. + +_Mild_. May _Mildewe_ I in my best age. + +_Fish_. Dy in some spittle, stocks or cage.[155] + +_Mild_. Dy in some spittle stocks or cage. + +_Fish_. I'l keepe my promisse, fayle not thou thine oathe. +So inn and tell my mayster. [_Exit Fisherman_. + +_Mild_. Yes, bawdes keepe oaths! t'must bee in leap-yeare then, +Not now; what wee sweare weel forsweare agen. + + _Enter Ashburne, Godfrey, and Gripus, to 'em_. + +_Ashb_. And hee in that did well, for Heaven defend +I shoold inritche mee with what's none of myne. +Where is the man that claymes it? + +_Grip_. Heare's my sworne soon, that but even now acknowledgd mee to +bee his father. + +_Ashb_. Knowest thou this? + +_Mild_. Yes for myne owne. I had thought, lyke one forlorne, +All fortune had forsooke mee, but I see +My best dayes are to com. Welcom my lyfe! +Nay if there bee in any bawde a sowle +This nowe hath mett the body. + +_Ashb_. All's theire safe +Unrifled, naye untutcht, save a small caskett +With som few trifles of no valewe in't, +Yet to mee pretious, synce by them I have fownd +My one and only doughter. + +_Mild_. Howes that, pray? + +_Ashb_. Thus; thy _Palestra_ is my _Mirable_. + +_Mild_. Now may you to your comfort keepe the guerle, +Synce of my wealthe I am once againe possest. +I heare acquitt you of all chardges past +Due for her education. + +_Ashb_. You speake well. + +_Grip_. It seemes you are possest, and this your owne. + +_Mild_. Which I'l knowe howe I part with. + +_Grip_. Com quickly and untrusse. + +_Mild_. Untrusse, Syr? what? + +_Grip_. Nay if you stand on poynts,[156] my crowns, my crowns: +Com tell them out, a thousand. + +_Mild_. Thousand deathes +I will indure fyrst! synce I neather owe thee +Nor will I paye thee any thinge. + +_Grip_. Didst thou not sweare? + +_Mild_. I did, and will againe +If it bee to my profit, but oathes made +Unto our hurt wee are not bound to keepe. + +_Ashb_. What's that you chalendge, _Gripus_. + +_Grip_. Not a sowse lesse +Then a full thousand crownes. + +_Ashb_. On what condition? + +_Grip_. So much hee vowed and swore to paye mee downe +At sight of this his budgett; a deneere +I will not bate; downe with my dust, thou perjurer. + +_Ashb_. But did hee sweare? + +_Mild_. Suppose it, saye I did. + +_Ashb_. Then thus I saye, oathes ta'ne advisedly +Ought to bee kept; and this I'l see performed, +What's forfett to my man is due to mee; +I claime it as my right; these your bawdes fallacyes +In this shall no weye helpe you, you shall answer it +Now as a subject and beefore the judge. + +_Mild_. If I appeare in coort I am lost againe; +Better to part with that then hazard all. +These bagges conteine fyve hundred pownds apeece, +Tak't and the pox to boot. + +_Grip_. And all these myne? + +_Godf_. Would I might have a share in't. + +_Ashb_. Nowe tell mee, _Mildewe_, howe thou ratest the freedome +Of th'other virgin yonge _Scribonia_, +Companion with my dowghter? + +_Mild_. I am weary +Of this lewde trade; give mee fyve hundred crownes +And take her; I'l gie't over now in tyme +Ere it bringe mee to the gallowes. + +_Ashb_. There's for her ransom; she's from henceforthe free. + +_Grip_. Howe, Syr? + +_Ashb_. These other, _Gripus_, still belonge to thee +Towards the manumission. + + _Enter at one doore Palestra, Scribonia; at the other + Raphael, Treadway, Thomas Ashburne and the Clowne_. + +_Raph_. If all bee trewe my man related to mee +I have no end of Joy. + +_Ash_. This is my _Mirable_, +My doughter and freeborne; and if you still +Persist the same man you profest your self, +Beehold shee is your wyfe. + +_Raph_. You crowne my hopes. + +_Mir_. This very day hathe made mee full amends +For many yeares of crosses. + +_Tread_. Nowe my suite. + +_Raph_. Nor are my expectations yet at heighte +Before my frend bee equally made blest +In this fayer damsell's love. + +_Tread_. To accomplishe which +If all the wealth that I injoye by land, +Or what at Sea's in ventur, will but purchase +With her release a tye of love to mee, +This hower it shalbe tenderd. + +_Ashb_. Offer'd fayrely; +But knwe, syr, could you winne her to your wishes, +She shall not lyke a bondemaide come to ye; +Fyve hundred crownes are tenderd downe all redy +(Unknowne to her) for her free liberty. + +_Scrib_. This is a Juberly, a yeare of Joy, +For chastity and spotles Inocens. + +_Tread_. Shall I intreate you to receive them backe? +Lett it bee made my woorke of charity. + +_Ashb_. I knowe you woorthy, but that must not bee; +Yet proove her, court her, with my free consent +And use the best love's rethorick you can: +If with the motion shee rest satisfied, +And you pleas'd to accept her, it shall never +Bee sayde you tooke a captyve to your bedd +But a free woman. + +_Tread_. Nobly have you spoake. + +_Raph_. Fayre _Mirable_, the fyrst thinge I intreate you +In which to expresse your love, speake for my frend. + +_Mir_. And with my best of Oratory. + +_Raph_.[157] Weel be all +Assistants in the motion. + +_Ashb_. If you prevayle, +I in the absens of som nearer frend +Have vowed to stand her father. + +_Clowne_. Now, Sir, I have showed him you, but are you ever the wyser? + +_Thom. Ash_. Peace, I am somwhat trobled. Oh tis hee, +My brother; and those rude and violent gusts +That to this strange Road thrust my shipp per force, +And I but late for new disasters curst, +Have with there light winges mounted mee aloft, +And for a haven in heaven new harbord mee. +Yet they but feede upon theire knowne delights; +Anon I'l make them surfett. + +_Scrib_. If to this frendly fayer society, +I, a poore desolate virgin, so much bownd, +Should putt you off with delatory trifles +When you importune answer, t'would appeare +In mee strange incivility: I am yours +And, beeinge so, therefore consequently his. + +_Ashb_. A match then! but, ere further you proceede, +Resolve mee one thinge, _Mildewe_,--not as thou art +Thyself, but as thou once weart made a Christian,-- +Knowest thou this made's descent, and parentadge? + +_Mild_. I will resolve you lyke a convertite,[158] +Not as the man I was: I knew there byrthes, +But for myne owne gayne kept them still conceal'd. + +_Ashb_. Now as thou hop'st of grace-- + +_Mild_. The nurse late dead +That had these too in chardge, betrayde a shipboord +And ravisht from her coontry, ere she expyr'd +Nam'd her the doughter of _Jhon Ashburne_, marchant. +Her I _Palestra_ cal'd, shee _Mirable_; +That, _Winefryde_, doughter to _Thomas Ashburne_ +Brother to the sayde _Jhon_, I cal'd _Scribonia_. +They too are coosin germans. + +_Ashb_. This our neece? + +_Thom_. My doughter? + +_Pal_. Partners in sorrowe, and so neere allyde, +And wee till nowe neare knewe it! + +_Scrib_. My deere coosin. + +_Ashb_. Nay, I'l bee my woords mayster; reache your hands, +And thoughe no nearer then an Unkle, once +I'l playe the father's part. + +_Thom_. Praye hold your hand, Syr; +Heares one that will doo't for you. + +_Ash_. Brother _Thomas_! + +_Thom_. Peruse that letter, whilst I breathe these Joys, +Impartinge these a most unlimitted love +In equall distribution, doughter, neece, +Brother, and frends; lett mee devyde amongst you +A fathers, brothers, and a kinsman's yoake +With all th'unmeasured pleasures and delights +That thought of man can wishe you. + +_Ashb_. Spare reply. +These tell mee, that those bloodhounds who pursude +My fall, my oppressinge creditors I meane, +Are gone before to answer for my wronges, +And in there deathes with due acknowledgment +Of all theire violens doon mee; peace with them! +That lykewyse by the deathe of a ritche alderman, +My unkle, I am left a fayer estate +In land, eight hundred by the yeare, in coyne +Twenty fyve thousand pound. Make mee, oh heaven, +For this greate blessinge gratefull! and not least +To you my Indeer'd brother. + +_Thom_. One thinge woonders mee +That I should fynd you neare _Marcellis_ heare, +When I was aym'd for _Florens_; where your letters +Inform'd mee you were planted. + +_Ashb_. But even thither +Those crewell men dog'd mee with such pursuit +That theire I fownd no safety, but was forct +To fly thence with that little I had left +And to retyre mee to this obscure place; +Where by the trade of fishinge I have lyv'd +Till nowe of a contented competens. +Those bates, hookes, lynes and netts for thy good servyce, +_Gripus_, I nowe make thyne. + +_Grip_. You are my noble mayster, and would I could have fownd more +tricks then these in my budgett, they had bin all at your servyce. + +_Ashb_. I purpose nowe for _England_, whether so please +These gentlemen consort us with theire brydes. + +_Boathe_. Most willingly. + +_Ashb_. There you shall see what welcome +Our _London_, so much spoake of heare in _France_, +Can give to woorthy strangers. + +_Thom_. Att my chardge +Your shippinge is provyded, and at anchor +Lyes ready in the roade. + +_Ashb_. Oh happy storme +That ends in such a calme! + + _Enter Godfreye in haste_. + +_Godf_. Staye, gentlemen, and see a dolefull sight; +One ledd to execution for a murder +The lyke hath scarce bin heard of. + +_Ash_. Of the Fryar? +In part we weare ey witness of the fact, +Nor is our hast so great but wee maye staye +To viewe his tragick end, whom the strickt lawe +Hathe made a Just example. + + _Enter the Abbott, Fryar Richard, Shreeve and officers_. + +_Abb_. Upon thy trewe confession I have given thee +Such absolution as the churche allowes. +What hast thou else to saye ere thou art made +To all men heare a wofull spectacle? + +_Fr. R_. This only, that betwixt Fryar _Jhon_ and mee +Was ever hate and mallyce; and althoughe +With no entent of murder, this my hand +This most unfortnate hand, beereft his lyff, +For which vile deede I mercy begge of Heaven, +Next of the woorld, whom I offended too, +Pardon and pitty. More to saye I have not: +Heaven of my sowle take chardge, and of my body +Dispose thou, honest hangeman. + +_Clown_. Lasse, poore Fryar, and yet there's great hope of his sowle, +for I canot spye one heyre betwixt him and heaven. + +_Fisher_. And yet I dowbt hee will make but a bald reckninge of it. + + _Enter the Lord De Averne and his man Dennis_. + +_Av_. Staye the execution. + +_Abb_. Our noble fownder out of his greate charity +And woonted goodnes begg'd him a reprieve! + +_Av_. Brought a reprieve I have: lett go the Fryar, +And take from mee your warrant; I dischardge him. + +_Sherif_. And yet, my Lord, 'tis fitt for our dischardge +That the Kinge's hand bee seene. + +_Av_. If not my woord +Will passe for currant, take my person then, +Or if you thinke unequall the exchaunge +I tender my man's too to valewe his. +Meanetyme dismisse him as one Innocent +Of what hee is condemde. + +_Abb_. By his owne mouthe +Hee stands accus'd. + +_Av_. And wetnes all of you, +As frely I acquitt him. + +_Sher_. Honored Syr, +Praye bee more playne, wee understand you not. + +_Av_. I'l make it playne then. + +_Cl_. Now if thou bee'st wyse drawe thy neck out of the collar, doo, +Slipp-stringe, doo. + +_Rich_. Marry, with all my hart and thanke him too. + +_Av_. Attend mee, reverend father, and you all +Of this assembly: for som spleene conceiv'd +Against the Fryar deceast, I strangled him; +The cause why no man heare importun mee: +For many reasons to my self best knowne +I hold fitt to conceale it, but I murdered him +In myne owne howse. + +_Abb_. But by your Honor's favour +How can that bee when _Richard_ heere confest +Hee slewe him in our cloyster? + +_Av_. Heare me outt. +At fyrst, untutcht with horror of the fact, +My purpose was to laye the guilt elswhear +And for that purpose caus'd my man to mount him +Over the cloyster wall. + +_Denis_. Which soone I did +By th'helpe of a short ladder, sett him theire +In a close-place and thoughe not of the sweetest +Yet as I thought the safest; left him there. + +_Fr. R_. Just in that place I found him, and imadgining +He satt of purpose theire to despight mee, +I hitt him with a stone, hee fell withall +And I thought I had slayne him. + +_Dennis_. But howe the Devill +Gott hee into our porch? that woonders mee. + +_Fr. R_. I fownd a ladder theire. + +_Den_. The same I left. + +_Fr. R_. Gott him upon my shoolders and by that +Conveighd him back and left him in that porch, +Wheare, as it seemes, you fownd him. + +_Av_. This troblinge us, it drove us to newe plotts. +We arm'd the Fryar, accoutred as you sawe, +Mounted him on a stallion, lock't him fast +Into the saddle, turn'd him forthe the gates +To trye a second fortune. + +_Fr. R_. Just at the tyme +When, I beeinge mounted on the baker's mare, +The gates weare sett wyde ope for mee to fly. + +_Abb_. So that it seemes one beast pursuide the tother, +And not the dead Fryar _Richard_. + +_Av_. Howsoever, +As one repentant for my rashnes past, +And loathe to Imbrewe mee in more Innocent blood, +I fyrst confesse my servant's guilt and myne, +Acquitt the Fryar, and yeeld our persons upp +To the full satisfaction of the lawe. + + _Enter the Lady Averne and her maid Mellesent_. + +_Lady_. Which, noble Sir, the Kinge thus mittigates: +See, I have heare your pardon. In the tyme +That you weare ceas'd with this deepe melancholly +And inward sorrowe for a sinne so fowle, +My self in person posted to the Kinge +(In progresse not farr off), to him related +The passadge of your busines, neather rose I +From off my knees till hee had signd to this. + +_Av_. Th'hast doon the offyce of a noble wyfe. +His grace I'l not despyse, nor thy great love +Ever forgett, and iff way may bee fownd +To make least satisfaction to the dead, +I'l doo't in vowed repentance. + +_Abb_. Which our prayers +In all our best devotions shall assist. + +_Ashb_. All ours, great Syr, to boote. + +_Av_. Wee knowe you well and thanke you. + +_Ashb_. But must nowe +Forsake this place, which wee shall ever blesse +For the greate good that wee have fownd therein, +And hence remoove for _England_. + +_Av_. Not beefore +All your successfull Joyes wee heare related +To comfort our late sorrowes; to which purpose +Wee invite you and your frends to feast with us. +That granted, we will see you safe aboord: +And as wee heare rejoyce in your affayers, +Forget not us in _England_ in your prayers. + + [_Exeunt_. + + +FINIS. + + + + + + +INTRODUCTION TO THE COSTLIE WHORE. + + +_The Costlie Whore_, though not of the highest rarity, is a scarce play. +It has never been reprinted, and thoroughly deserves on its own merits a +place in the present collection. The conduct of the story is simple and +straight-forward; the interest is well sustained; and the poetry has all +the freshness and glow of youth. + +The play bears some indications of having been written in 1613. In I. 2, +where the Duke's brothers are devising schemes for enriching themselves +at the state's expense, occurs the following passage:-- + + "_Al_. I have a commission drawne for making glasse. + Now if the Duke come, as I thinke he will, + Twill be an excellent meanes to lavish wood; + And then the cold will kill them, had they bread. + + _Hat_. The yron Mills are excellent for that. + I have a pattent drawne to that effect; + If they goe up, downe goes the goodly trees; + Ile make them search the earth to find new fire." + +The mention of the "yron Mills" appears to refer to the patent granted +to Clement Daubigny for cutting iron into rods. On 13th March,[159] +1612-13, the Commissioners of Suits forwarded to the Lord Mayor a +petition from Daubigny for the renewal of letters patent. They enclosed +petitions from nailmakers and other smiths, shipmasters, shipowners, and +shipwrights, from which it would appear that the iron imported from +foreign parts was brittle and useless; and being themselves unable to +judge accurately of the quality of iron, they directed the Lord Mayor to +take the evidence of the Master and some of the Wardens of the +Blacksmiths', Ironmongers', and Carpenters' Companies, of the Master and +some of the Brethren of the Trinity House, and of any others that he +might think fit to consult: after hearing the evidence, he was to draw +up a statement of his own views and return Daubigny's petition. On 31st +March the Lord Mayor addressed a letter to the Lords of the Council, in +which he stated that from the evidence of the various witnesses he had +been convinced that the patent would raise the price of iron, hinder the +king in his customs, and further the decay of woods; and he added that +the Flemish iron was for the most part good and tough. It will be +observed that one of the objections raised by the Lord Mayor to the +granting of the patent--namely that a great consumption of wood (as fuel +for smelting the ore) would follow--is specially put forward by the +dramatist. The mention in Alfred's speech of a scheme for glassmaking +seems also to suggest 1613 as the date of authorship; for on 17th +November of that year Sir Jerome Bowes and Sir Edward Zouch procured +patents for making glass.[160] + +There are other allusions that point to 1613. In II. 4, we find--"Make +us for want coyn brasse and passe it current." The first patent for the +coining of brass farthing-tokens was granted on 10th April, 1613, to +John Stanhope, Lord Harrington; and the grant caused general +dissatisfaction.[161] Again: in the same scene there is a reference to +the exportation of broad cloth:--"I, an't please your honour, have a +commoditie of good broad cloth, not past two hundred; may I shippe them +over? and theres a hundred poundes." When we turn to the State Papers we +discover that numerous complaints were made in 1613 about the +exportation of undressed broadcloth. On 3rd March, 1612-13, the King +forwarded to the Lords of the Council a petition from the clothworkers +and dyers that the statutes against the exportation of undressed and +undyed goods should be strictly enforced. I am inclined to think that +these passages, taken collectively, afford strong proof that _The +Costlie Whore_ was written in 1613--twenty years before the date of +publication. + +In I. 2, we have the story of Bishop Hatto and the Rats told briefly but +effectively. Mr. Baring-Gould in his _Curious Myths of the Middle Ages_ +has investigated the sources of the legend with much fulness. He refers +us specially to Wolfius's _Lect. Memorab_., Lavingae, 1600, tom. i. p. +343. From the Stationers' Registers it appears that a ballad of _The +Wrathfull Judgement of God upon Bishop Hatto_ was licensed to H. Carre +on 15th August, 1586. The dramatist has invested the story with the +glamour of that poetical strangeness which is the very salt of such +narrations:-- + + "_Alf_. He did proclaime reliefe unto the poore; + Assembled them unto a private Barne, + And, having lockt the doore, set it on fire, + Saying hee'de rid the countrie of such Mice: + And Mice and Rats have rid him from the World. + + * * * * * + + _Duke_. Could not this palace, seated in the _Rheine_ + In midst of the great River, (to the which + No bridge, nor convay, other then by boats + Was to be had) free him from vermine Rats? + + _Alf_. Against their kind the land Rats took the water + And swomme in little armies to the house, + And, though we drownd and killed innumerable, + Their numbers were like _Hydra's_ heads increasing; + Ruine bred more untill our brother died. + + _Duke_. The house is execrable; Ile not enter. + + _Hat_. You need not feare, my Lord; the house is free + From all resort of Rats; for _at his death, + As if a trumpet sounded a retreat, + They made a kind of murmure and departed_." + + + + +THE COSTLIE WHORE. + +A COMICALL HISTORIE, + + +Acted by the companie of _the Revels_. + + +LONDON Printed by _Augustine Mathewes_, for WILLIAM SHEARES, and HVGH +PERRIE, and are to be sold at their shoppe, in _Brittaines Burse_. 1633. + + + +The Actors Names. + +_Duke of Saxonie_. +_Fredericke_ his sonne. +_Hatto_, | Brothers to the Duke. +_Al[f]rid_, | +_Montano_, kinsman to the Duke. +_Euphrata_, daughter to the Duke. +_Constantine_, a lover of _Euphrata_. +_Otho_, a friend to _Constantine_. +_Alberto_, | Two Lords. +_Reynaldo_, | +_Vandermas_, a Pander. +_Valentia_, the Costly _Whore_. +_Julia_, a Gentlewoman to _Euphrata_. +_Two Maides_. +_Petitioners_. +_Beggers_. +_Servants_. + + + +THE COSTLY _WHORE_. + + +[_Act the First_.] + +[SCENE 1.] + + + _Enter Constantine and Otho_. + +_Constantine_. How do'st thou like the lovely _Euphrata_? + +_Otho_. I did not marke her. + +_Const_. Then thou didst not marke +The fairest _Saxon_ Lady in mine eye +That ever breath'd a maid. + +_Otho_. Your minde now knowne, +Ile say shee is the fairest in the world, +Were she the foulest. + +_Con_. Then thou canst dissemble. + +_Otho_. You know I cannot; but, deare _Constantine_, +I prethee tell me first, what is that Ladie, +That wonder of her sexe, cal'd _Euphrata_? +Whose daughter is she? + +_Const_. I cannot blame thee, _Otho_, +Though thou be ignorant of her high worth, +Since here in _Saxon_ we are strangers both; +But if thou cal'st to minde why we left _Meath_, +Reade the trice[162] reason in that Ladies eye, +Daughter unto the Duke of _Saxonie_, +Shee unto whom so many worthy Lords +Vail'd Bonnet when she past the Triangle, +Making the pavement Ivory where she trode. + +_Otho_. She that so lightly toucht the marble path +That leadeth from the Temple to the presence? + +_Const_. The same. + +_Otho_. Why, that was white before, +White Marble, _Constantine_, whiter by odds +Then that which lovers terme the Ivory hand, +Nay then the Lillie whitenesse of her face. + +_Con_. Come, thou art a cavilling companion: +Because thou seest my heart is drown'd in love, +Thou wilt drowne me too. I say the Ladie's faire; +I say I love her, and in that more faire; +I say she loves me, and in that most faire; +Love doth attribute in Hyperbolies +Unto his Mistris the creation +Of every excellence, because in her +His eies do dreame of perfect excellence.-- +And here she comes; observe her, gentle friend. + + [_Enter Euphrata_. + +_Euph_. Welcome, sweet _Constantine_. + +_Con_. My _Euphrata_. + +_Euph_. Thy _Euphrata_, be thou my _Constantine_. +But what is he? a stranger, or thy friend? + +_Con_. My second selfe, my second _Euphrata_. +If thou beest mine, salute her, gentle _Otho_. + +_Otho_. An humble and a true devoted heart +I tender to you in a mindes chast kisse. + +_Euph_. Welcome to me, since welcome to my friend. + +_Otho_.--A beautiful, an admirable Ladie! +I thinke 'tis fatall unto every friend +Never to love, untill his friend first love, +And then his choice; but sooner will I teare +Out of this brest mine affection with my heart. + +_Euph_. Hearing, sweet _Constantine_, thou wert so nere me, +I came as I were winged to gaze on thee. + +_Con_. And would to heaven there were no bar in time +To hinder me from thy desired sight, +But thousand sutors eyes, do watch my steps; +And harke, I heare some trampling. How now, _Julia_? + + _Enter Julia_. + +_Juli_. Madam, the Lord Montano, spying you +To leave the presence and to enter here, +Hath ever since waited your comming foorth. +And will not be denied untill he see you. + +_Euph_. Of all my sutors, most importunate. + +_Con_. What is he, love? + +_Euph_. Of very noble birth, +But my affection is not tyed to birth. +I must dispense with this kind conference +For some small time, untill I rid him hence. +Therefore within my closet hide thy selfe; +Your friend shall _Julia_ guide into the garden, +Where through a private doore, but seldome us'd, +He may at pleasure leave us and returne. +Deny me not I prethee, _Constantine_; +Thou hast my heart, and would thy birth were such +I need not feare t'avouch thee for my Love. + +_Otho_. Madam, I take my leave. [_Exit Otho_. + +_Con_. Farewell, deare friend, +Returne as soone as may be; farewell Love. [_Exit_. + +_Euph_. Now guide _Montano_ hither. + + _Enter Montano_. + +_Mon_. Gracious Madam, +I have seene the noble Palsgrave, the Prince +Of _Milleine_, and the Palatine of the _Rheine_, +With divers other honorable sutors, +Mounted to ride unto their severall places. + +_Euph_. Of me they took their farewell yesternight. + +_Mon_. What meanes your grace to be so unkind to all? +You drive away good fortune by disdaine. + +_Euph_. Why are you grieving too? + +_Mon_. I am your subject, +The meanest that did humbly seeke your love, +Yet not the meanest in affection; +And I am come to take my farewell too. + +_Euph_. Why, then farewell. + +_Mon_. So short with them that love you? + +_Euph_. Your journey may be great, for ought I know; +And 'tis an argument of little love +To be the hinderer of a traveller. + +_Mon_. My journey, Madame, is unto my house, +Scarce halfe a league hence, there to pine and die, +Because I love such beauteous crueltie. + +_Euph_. God speede you, sir. + +_Mon_. Nay then I will not leave you. +Madam, 'tis thought, and that upon good ground, +You have shrin'd your affection in the heart +Of some (whatere he be) noble or base, +And thats the cause you lightlie censure[163] all. + +_Euph_. Who thinkes it? + +_Mon_. I doe, Madame, and your father. + +_Euph_. It is upon my vowed chastitie. + +_Mon_. What devill made you sweare to chastitie, +Or have you tane that oath onely for a terme? + +_Euph_. A terme, what terme? + +_Mon_. A terme of some seven yeeres, +Or peradventure halfe the number more. + +_Euph_. For terme of life. + +_Mon_. You have sworne, to be forsworne: +He was no well disposed friend of yours +That gave you consaile [_sic_] to forsweare such beautie. +Why, 'tis as if some traveiler had found +A mine of gold, and made no use of it. +For terme of life! Why, then die presently; +So shall your debt to nature be farre lesse, +Your tyranny over man's yeelding heart +Be lesse condemned. Oh, you were made for man, +And living without man to murder men. +If any creature be so fortunate +That lives in grace of your all gracious selfe, +Though I am well perswaded 'tis not I, +I vow by all the rites of vertuous love, +Be he ignoble, of the basest sort, +To please you, Madame, Ile renounce my suite +And be a speciall meane unto your father +To grant your hearts affection, though I die. + +_Euph_. Now, Lord _Montano_, you come neere my heart, +And were I sure that you would keepe your word, +As I am sure you love me by your deedes, +I might perchance deliver you my thoughts. + +_Mon_. By heaven and by your beauteous selfe I will. + +_Euph_. Then, _Constantine_, come forth; behold thy friend. + + _Enter Constantine_. + +_Con_. Madame, what meane you, to reveale our love? + +_Mon_. This is a very stubborne Gentleman. +A Gentleman? a pesant! _Saxonie_, +Affords not one more base. + +_Con_. He does me wrong, +That termes me meaner then a gentleman. + +_Mon_. I tearme thee so. + +_Euph_. Why, how now, Lord _Montano_? +You do forget your oath. + +_Mont_. And you your selfe, +Your Princely father, and the Dukedomes honour, +To chaine your liking to a groome so base. + +_Con_. He lies that calles me groome. + + _Enter Julia_. + +_Ju_. O God, forbeare: +His Excellence your father's comming hither. + +_Mon_. He comes in happie time, to know the cause +Why such great Princes have bin made your scorne. + +_Euph_. What, will you tell him? + +_Mon_. Will I? let me die +Contemn'd of heaven, in publique obloquie, +If I reveale not this lascivious course. + +_Ju_. We are undone. + +_Con_. Hence with this prating Maide. +If thou hast any anger in thy brest +Towards this Lady, turne it all on me. +She is a woman, timerous by her kinde; +I, man-like borne, and beare a man-like minde. + +_Mon_. Ile trie your courage. [_Draw_.[164] + +_Euph_. As thou fear'st my frowne, +As thou hast hope to thrive in thy new choice, +As thou respect'st the favour of the gods, +Welfare in any action thou intends, +Doe not reveale unto my fretfull father +This humble choice that my high birth hath made. + +_Mon_. Why, then forsweare him. + +_Euph_. Sooner set thy feet +Upon my breast, and tread me to the ground. + +_Ju_. As thou art any thing more then a beast, +Doe not procure my Ladie such disgrace. + +_Mon_. Peace, bawde, Ile have no conference with you. + +_Euph_. He cannot hurt me, 'tis my Love I feare. +Although my father be as sterne as warre, +Inexorable like consuming fire, +As jealous of his honour as his crowne, +To me his anger is like _Zephires_ breath +Cast on a banke of sommer violets, +But to my Love like whirlewinde to a boate +Taken in midst of a tumultuous sea. + + _Enter Duke of Saxonie and Fredericke_. + +Alas, he comes! Montano, prethee, peace. +Courage, sweete Love. + +_Con_. I see our love must cease. + +_Euph_. Not if my wit can helpe; it shall goe hard +But Ile prevent the traitor. + +_Mon_. Heare me, my Lord. + +_Euph_. Heare me, my gracious father. + +_Mon_. Heare me, my liege: ther's treason in your Court, +I have found a peasant in the Princesse closet; +And this is he that steales away her honour. + +_Euph_. This villaine, gracious father, 'tis that seekes +To rob me of mine honor, you your daughter. + +_Mon_. Now, as you are a right heroike Prince, +Be deafe unto your daughters faire[165] words. + +_Euph_. Be deafe to him, as you regard your selfe. + +_Duke_. What strange confusion's this that cloyes our hearing? + +_Fred_. Speake, beauteous sister, who hath done thee wrong? + +_Mon_. Her self. + +_Euph_. This traitor. + +_Fre_. Lord _Montano_? + +_Euph_. Hee. + +_Fred_. Villaine, thou dyest. + +_Mon_. Stay, she meanes _Constantine_, +He that I found infolded in her closet, +Reaping the honour which a thousand Lords +Have fail'd in seeking in a lawful course. + +_Con_. He does me wrong, my gracious soveraigne. + +_Ju_. He wrongs my Ladie, an't please your grace. + +_Mon_. Ile tell the trueth. + +_Euph_. Or rather let me tell it. + +_Mon_. Lacivious love is ever full of sleights. + +_Euph_. Villaines, that seeke by treason their desires, +Want no suggestion to beguile a trueth. + +_Mon_. I say, I found this peasant in her closet +Kissing, imbracing, and dishonouring her. + +_Euph_. I say, an't please your gracious Excellence, +I found this Gentleman within my closet, +There set by subornation of this Lord, +And here appointed to dishonor me. +Speake, is't not true? + +_Con_. True, if it please your grace. + +_Duke_. What say you, strumpet? + +_Ju_. Since my Ladie saies so, +I say and't please your Excellence-- + +_Duke_. Speake, woman. + +_Ju_. 'Tis very true. + +_Mon_. O monstrous forgerie! + +_Fre_. O more then falshood to become so smooth +In such a dangerous action! + +_Duke_. This is strange; +_Montano_ seeke the ruine of my daughter! + +_Euph_. Because I would not yeeld unto his suite, +Which he in rapefull manner oft hath sought, +Hee set this Gentleman to doe me shame +Intending by exclaimes[166] to raise the Court, +But that repentance in my waiting Maide +And of his sorrowfull selfe reveal'd the plot. + +_Mon_. O ye gods, how am I over-reacht! + +_Duke_. I know the yong man to be well discended, +Of civill carriage and approved faith, +How ere seduced to this enterprise. + +_Con_. My conscience, would not propagate that plot. + +_Ju_. Nor mine, my Lord, though gold corrupted me. + +_Mon_.--Cleane from the byas! wit, by heaven rare wit! +Ile tell another tale, if they have done. + +_Duke_. What canst thou speake, vild[167] traitor? +Thou seest thou art prevented in thy plot +And therefore desperately coin'st any thing, +But I am deafe to all such stratagems. + +_Mon_. Will you not heare me? + +_Duke_. Forgeries and lies. +My daughters honour is of that high prize +That I preferre it 'fore a traitors braine. +Let it suffice, we know she hath deni'd thee +And some denied (like devills) turne their love +Into excrutiation of themselves +And of the parties whom they have belov'd. +Revenge begins where flatteries doe end; +Being not her husband, thou wilt be no friend. +Thus is thy policy by heaven prevented: +Therefore henceforth we banish thee our Court; +Our Court? our territorie, every place +Wherein we beare the state of Royaltie. +Urge no replie, the fact is plainely prov'd, +And thou art hatefull where thou wert belov'd. + +_Mon_. My gracious Lord-- + +_Duke_. We can afford no grace: +Stay here, and reade thy ruine in my face. + +_Mon_. I goe contented with this heavy doome; +'Twas mine owne seeking. Faire and wise, adiew; +Deceit hath kil'd conceit, you know tis true. + [_Exit_.[168] + +_Fre_. An upright sentence of an act so vilde. + +_Duk_. Remove this waiting virgin from your chamber, +But let this gentleman attend on me. +The best may be deceiv'd by trecherie. + +_Euph_. Then so, my gracious father, may this maid. + +_Duke_. Then let her keep her place; beware of gold, +Honour's too precious to be baselie sold.-- +Now to our dying friend, his grace of _Meath_. +Daughter, prepare you; you shall ride along, +For to that end we came; come, sonne, to horse: +Ere we come there, our friend may prove a coarse. + +_Euph_.--Twas well done both, this action rarely fell; +Where women trie their wits, bad plots prove well. + + [_Exeunt omnes_. + + + +[SCENE 2.] + + + _Enter three Beggers_. + +1. Come away, fellow louse, thou art ever eating. + +2. Have I not neede, that must feede so many +_Cannibals_ as will waite on me whether I will or no? + +3. Heres one in my necke, I would 'twere on thy shoulder. + +1. Keepe it your selfe, I have retainers enow of mine owne. + +2. But whether are you going now? + +1. Why, are you our King, and doe not know that? + +2. Your King? I am a very roguish King and I hav a companie of lowsie +subjects. + + _Enter Hatto and Alfrid conferring_. + +2. But looke about my ragged subjects, here comes somebody. + +1. O the devills; shall we aske them an almes? + +2. Why not? now the rats have eaten up their brother Bishop they will +be more charitable; your vocation, you slaves. + +3. For the Lord sake, be pittifull to a companie of poore men. + +_Hatto_. What cry is this? beggars so neere the doore +Of our deceased brother? whip them hence +Or bring the Mastiffe foorth [to] worry them. +They are lazie drones, 'tis pittie such should live. + +1. I told you, my Lord, how we should find them; whip us! leade the way, +soveraigne, weele none of your whipping. + +_Hat_. Hence with these dogs! what make they neere this house? + +2. He will be eaten with rats too, he looks like a piece of cheese +alreadie. + +_Hat_. You Rogues. + +_Alf_. Good brother, stay your self from wrath; +Thinke on the Bishop and his odious death. + +_Hat_. What odious death, I pray? + +_Alf_. Eaten with Rats, +Whilest he was living, for the wrong he did +Unto the poore, the branches of our God. + +_Hat_. Tis true, and therefore, call the poore againe. +Come hither, friends, I did forget my selfe. +Pray for me, ther's some silver for thy wants. + +2. Now the Lord blesse you and keep your good face[169] from being +Mouse-eaten; wee came thinking wee should have some dole at the Bishops +funerall, but now this shall serve our turne, wee will pray for you +night and day. + +_Hat_. Goe to the backe-gate, and you shall have dole. + +_Om_. O the Lord save thee. + [_Exeunt Beggers_. + +_Hat_. These Beggers pray and curse both in a breath. +Oh wherefore should we fawne upon such curres, +The mice of mankind, and the scorne of earth? + +_Alf_. So said our brother. + +_Hat_. And he was a Bishop, +Had read the Scripture and knew what he said. + +_Alf_. But he hath bought[170] that saying with his death, +With such a loathsome and notorious death +As while the World's a World 'twill speake of _Meath_. + +_Hat_. The Lord Archbishop of _Meath_, and die by Rats! + +_Alf_. He did proclaime reliefe unto the poore; +Assembled them unto a private Barne +And, having lockt the doore, set it on fire, +Saying hee'de rid the countrie of such Mice; +And Mice and Rats have rid him from the World. + +_Hat_. Well, Ile not hurt the poore so publikely, +But privately I'le grinde their very hearts. +Torture them living, and yet have their prayers, +And by such meanes that few or none shall know it. + +_Al_. In such a course _Alfred_ would wind with you; +For though I counsail'd you to be more calme, +Twas not in pittie of their povertie +But to avoide their clamour. To give nothing +Will make them curse you: but to threaten them, +Flie in your face, and spit upon your beard. +No devill so fierce as a bread-wanting heart, +Especially being baited with ill tearmes. +But what course can you take to plague these dogges? + +_Hat_. Why, buy up all the corne and make a dearth, +So thousands of them will die under stalles. + +_Alf_. And send it unto forraine nations +To bring in toies to make the wealthy poore. + +_Hat_. Or make our land beare woad[171] instead of wheate. + +_Al_. Inclose the commons and make white meates deare. + +_Hat_. Turne pasture into Park grounds and starve cattle, +Or twentie other honest thriving courses. +The meanest of these will beggar halfe a Kingdome. + +_Al_. I have a commission drawne for making glasse. +Now if the Duke come, as I thinke he will, +Twill be an excellent meanes to lavish wood; +And then the cold will kill them, had they bread. + +_Hat_. The yron Mills are excellent for that. +I have a pattent[172] drawne to that effect; +If they goe up, downe goes the goodly trees; +Ile make them search the earth to find new fire. + +_Alf_. We two are brothers, and the Duke's our brother. +Shall we be brothers in Commission? +And Ile perswade him to authorize thee +His substitute in _Meath_, when he enjoyes it. + +_Hat_. Death, Ile get thee Regent under him +In _Saxonie_, to oppresse as well as I. +And we will share the profits, live like Kings, +And yet seeme liberall in common things. + +_Al_. Content: what, though the Rats devour'd our brother? +Was not a Prophet murdered by a Lyon? +King _Herod_ died of Lice, wormes doe eate us all; +The Rats are wormes, then let the Rats eate me. +Is the dead course prepar'd? + +_Hat_. Embalm'd and coffin'd; +The Citie keyes delivered to my hands; +We stay but onely for his Excellence. + + _Enter Constantine_. + +_Con_. The Duke is comming, if it please your honors. + +_Al_. And he is welcome; let the trumpets sound. + + [_Second florish_. + + _Enter Duke of Saxon, Euphrata, and Julia_. + +_Hat_. Welcome, thrice welcome, our renowned brother. +Loe, at thy feete the Cittizens of _Meath_, +By us their Agents, do lay downe the keyes, +And[173] by this crownet and sword resign'd +The state Maiestique to your Princely hands, +Discended to you by our brothers death. + +_Duke_. Then with your loves and persons we receive it.-- +Is then our brother the Archbishop dead? + +_Hat_. Too true, my Lord. + +_Euph_. I am sorry for my Uncle. + +_Hat_. And of a death so publique by reporte. + +_Al_. Devour'd by Rats, in strange and wonderous sort. + +_Duke_. Could not this palace seated in the _Rheine_, +In midst of the great River, (to the which +No bridge, nor convay, other then by boats +Was to be had,) free him from vermine Rats? + +_Alf_. Against their kind the land Rats took the water +And swomme in little armies to the house; +And, though we drown'd and kild innumerable, +Their numbers were like _Hydra's_ heads increasing; +Ruine bred more untill our brother died. + +_Duke_. The house is execrable; Ile not enter. + +_Hat_. You need not feare, my Lord; the house is free +From all resort of Rats; for at his death, +As if a trumpet sounded a retreat, +They made a kind of murmure and departed. + +_Duke_. Sure 'twas the hand of heaven, for his contempt +Of his poore creatures.--But what writs are those? + +_Hat_. Commissions (if it please your grace,) for glasse, +For yron Mines, and other needful things. + +_Duke_. Our selfe invested in the government, +The Cities care shall lie upon your care. + +_Hat. Alfred_ our brother may awaite your grace +In _Saxony_, so please you to command. + +_Duke_. We are now but three, and lately have bin seven, +We have cause to love each other; for my part, +Betweene you both we give a brothers heart. +Here or at _Saxonie_, command at pleasure; +I weare the corronet, be yours the treasure. + +_Al_. We thanke our brother. + +_Duke_. Where's my sonne _Fredericke_? + + _Enter Fredericke with a glove_. + +_Fre_. Father, the state of _Meath_ desire your grace +To take the paines to passe unto the Senate. + +_Duke_. What glove is that, son _Fred_., in your hand? + +_Fre_. I found it, if it please your Excellence, +Neere to the state-house: the imbroiderie +Is very excellent, and the fashion rare. + +_Duke_. I have not seene a prettier forme of hand. +Daughter, let's see; is't not too bigge for you? + +_Euph_. Sure 'tis some admirable worke of nature, +If it fit any hand that owes[174] this glove, +If all the rest doe parallel the hand. + +_Duke_. Will it not on? + +_Euph_. Not for a diadem; +Ile trie no longer lest I shame my selfe. + +_Duke_. Try, _Julia_. + +_Ju_. My hand's bigger then my Ladies. + +_Duke_. I cannot tell, but in my minde I feele +A wondrous passion of I know not what. + +_Fre_. The imbroidered glove may be some childs, no womans. + +_Duke_. I should mistrust as much, but that this place +Beares greater compasse then a childish hand. +I must command it. + +_Fre_. Willingly, my Lord. + +_Duke_. Then to the state-house, brothers, leade the way: +First our instalement [_sic_], then a funerall day. + + [_Exeunt Duke and brothers and Fred_. + + _Enter Otho_. + +_Otho_. Yonder she goes, the mirrour of her sexe.-- +Stay, beauteous _Euphrata_. + +_Euph. Otho_! what, _Julia_? + +_Ju_. Here, madam! what's your will? + +_Euph_. Call _Constantine_; +Tell him his deare friend _Otho_ is return'd. + +_Ju_. I will. + +_Otho_. Stay, _Julia_. + +_Euph_. Doe as I bid you, goe. [_Exit Julia_. + +_Otho_. I had rather have a word or twaine with you. + +_Euph_. I have heard him oft enquire for thee his friend, +I have heard him sigh, I have seene him weepe for thee, +Imagining some mischiefe or distresse +Had falne thee since the closets separation. + +_Otho_.--And what a slave am I to wrong this friend! + + _Enter Constantine and Julia_. + +_Con_. Where is he? + +_Ju_. Here. + +_Con_. The welcom'st man alive. +Unkind, how couldst thou stay from me so long? + +_Otho_. I have bin ill at ease, pray pardon me; +But I rejoyce to see my friend so well. + +_Euph_. Some Ladies love hath made him melancholy. + +_Otho_. Shee hath read the letter that I lately sent her +In a pomegranat, by those words I hope. + +_Con_. Why speake you not? is't love or melancholy? + +_Otho_. If upon love my grief is melancholy? + +_Con_. Ile have the best Phisitians here in _Meath_ +Assay by art to cure that maladie. + +_Euph_. Gainst mellancholy minds your onely Phisick +Our Saxon doctors hold that principle. +Now I remember you did lately send me +A choice pomegranate; fetch it, _Julia_. +Some of those graines well stir'd in _Gascoine_ wine +Is present remedie. + +_Otho_. Madam, Ile none: +Of all fruits, that I hate. + +_Euph_. And commended it +So highly by the messenger that brought it! + +_Con_. Twas well remembred, you shall take a graine. + +_Otho_. You will but vexe me. + +_Con_. So his melancholly +Doth make him froward with his dearest friend. + + _Enter Julia with the pomegranate_. + +Tis well done, _Julia_, quickely cut it up; +And bring a cup of wine, or let me doo't. + +_Otho_. I see I shall be plagu'd with mine owne wit; +Being asham'd to speake, I writ my minde.-- +Were you my friends, you would not martyr me +With needlesse phisicke; fie upon this trash, +The very sight is loathsome. + +_Con_. Take it up: +But let me see, what letter's that that dropt? +Came it from you, or from the _Spanish_ fruit? + +_Ju_. Tis all the graines that the pomegranate had. + +_Con_. Then theres some trechery within these graines: +Ile breake it up. +And tis directed to my _Euphrata_. + +_Euph_. What may the tenure be? I pray thee read it. + + [_He opens the letter & reads_. + +_Otho_. O fall upon me some wind-shaken turret +To hide me from the anger of my friend, +O from his frowne! because he is my friend. +Were he an enemie, I would be bold; +But kindnes makes this wound. O, this horror! +The words of friends, are stronger then their power. + +_Con_. Withdraw, good _Julia_. + [_Exit Julia_. + +_Euph_. Pray, what is it, love? + +_Con_. Tis love indeed to thee, but to my heart +Every loose sentence is a killing dart. +I brought this _Gyges_[175] to my hearts delight +And he hath drown'd his senses with the sight. +Except thy selfe, all things to him were free: +_Otho_, thou hast done me more then injurie; +Well maist thou fixe thy eye upon the earth, +This action sith[176] breedes a prodigious birth: +It is so monstrous, and against all kinde, +That the lights splendor would confound thy minde. + +_Otho_. I have offended, prethee pardon me. + +_Con_. What cause did move thee? + +_Otho_. Her all conquering sight. + +_Con_. Couldst thou usurpe upon my well known right? + +_Otho_. Thinke, I am flesh and blood, and she is faire. + +_Con_. Thinke how I love thee. + +_Otho_. There proceeds my care. + +_Con_. Our amitie hath bin of ancient dayes, +During which time wrong'd I thee any wayes? + +_Otho_. Never. + +_Con_. But rather I have done thee good. + +_Otho_. I grant you have, O rather shed my blood +Then number the kind deedes betweene us past. + +[_Con_.] For this unkindnesse, here I love my last. + +_Euph_. He doth repent, and will renounce his suite. + +_Otho_. I doe renounce it. + +_Con_. O thou canst not do't. + +_Otho_. Suffer me stay a while in her faire sight, +'Twill heal my wound and all love banish quite. + +_Con_. The sight of the belov'd makes the desire, +That burnt but slowly, flame like sparkling fire. +As thou dost love me, take thee to some place +Where thou maist nere see her, nor I thy face. + +_Otho_. By what is deere betwixt us, by our selves, +I vow hencefoorth ten thousand deaths to prove +Then be a hinderance to such vertuous love. + +_Con_. Breake heart, tis for thy sake. + +_Otho_. When I am dead +O then forget that I haue injured. + +_Con_. O hell of love! + +_Otho_. Or rather hell of friends! + +_Con_. Firmely till they love. + +_Otho_. Then thus all friendship ends. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + + +_Actus Secundus_. + +[SCENE 1.] + + + _Enter Duke, Fredericke, Hatto, and Alfred_. + +_Hat_. Good brother, heare some Musicke, twill delight you. + +_Al_. Ile call the Actors, will you see a play? + +_Fre_. Or, gracious father, see me runne the race +On a light footed horse, swifter then winde. + +_Duke_. I pray forbeare. + +_Al_. This moode will make you mad, +For melancholy ushers franticke thoughts. + +_Hat_. It makes hot wreaking blood turne cold and drie, +And drithe and coldnesse are the signes of death. + +_Duke_. You doe torment me. + +_Fred_. Is it anything +That I have done, offends your grace? + +_Hat_. Or comes this hidden anger from my fault? + +_Alf_. Heres none but gladly would resigne his life +To doe you pleasure, so please you to command. + +_Duke_. Ifaith you are too [_sic_] blame to vexe me thus. + +_Hat_. Then grounds this sorrow on your brothers death? + +_Fred_. Or rather on the glove I lately found. + +_Duke_. A plague upon the glove, whats that to me? +Your prating makes me almost lunatike. +As you respect my welfare, leave me leave me. +The sooner you depart, the sooner _I_ +Shall finde some meanes to cure my maladie. + +_Fred_. Our best course is to be obedient. + + [_Exeunt all but the Duke_. + +_Duke_. Farewell. +Was ever slave besotted like to me! +That Kings have lov'd those that they never saw +Is nothing strange, since they have heard their praise; +Birds that by painted grapes have bin deceiv'd +Had yet some shadow to excuse their error; +_Pigmalion_ that did love an Ivory Nimph +Had an _Idea_ to delight his sence; +The youth that doted on _Minerva's_[177] picture +Had some contentment for his eye; [_soft Musique_. +But love, or rather an infernall hagge, +Envying _Saxons_ greatnes and his joyes, +Hath given me nothing but a trifling glove, +As if by the proportion of the case +Art had the power to know the jewels nature. +Or Nimph, or goddesse, woman, or faire devill, +If anything thou art, within my braine +Draw thine owne picture, let me see thy face: +To doate thus grossely, is a grosse disgrace. [_Musique within_. +I heare some Musique: O ye Deities, +Send you this heavenly consort[178] from the spheares +To recreate a love-perplexed heart? +The more it sounds, the more it refresheth. +I see no instruments, nor hands that play; +And my deare brothers, durst not be so bold. +'Tis some celestiall rapture of the minde, +No earthlie harmonic is of this kinde. +Now it doth cease: speake, who comes there? + + _Enter Fredericke, Alfred, and Hatto_. + +_Fred_. Father. + +_Duke_. From whence proceeds the Musicke that I heard? + +_Fred_. The beauteous and the famous Curtezan, +Allyed unto the banished _Montano_, +Admir'd _Valentia_, with a troope of youths +This day doth keepe her yeerely festivall +To all her suters, and this way she past +Unto her Arbor, when the Musique plaide. + +_Duke_. Admir'd _Valentia_! Curtezans are strange +With us in _Germanie_; except her selfe, +Being a _Venetian_ borne and priviledg'd, +The state allowes none here. + +_Fred_. Twere good for _Meath_ +She were unpriviledgd and sent to _Venice_. + +_Al_. Of all the faces that mine eye beheld +Hers is the brightest. + +_Duke_. Is she then so faire? + +_Hat_. O beyond all comparison of beautie. + +_Fred_. Upon her hand, +Father, I saw the fellow to your glove. + +_Duke_. Then let it be restor'd. +What, should a Prince retaine a strumpets glove?-- +O ye eternall powers, am I insnar'd +With the affection of a common trull!-- +Wheres your commissions, that you would have sign'd? +'Tis time I had a president in _Saxonie_. +Receive our signet, and impresse them straight; +Ile remaine here, in _Meath_, some little time. +Brother, have care my Dukedome be well rul'd; +Here I put over my affaires to you. +My sonne I leave unto the joyes of youth; +Tis pittie that his minde should be opprest +So soone with care of governments. +Goe to your pleasures, seeke your sister foorth, +Send _Constantine_ to us; so leave me all, +I am best accompanied with none at all. [_Exeunt_. + _Manet Duke_. +Either the Plannets, that did meete together +In the grand consultation of my birth, +Were opposite to every good infusion, +Or onely _Venus_ stood as retrograde; +For, but in love of this none-loving trull, +I have beene fortunate even since my birth. +I feele within my breast a searching fire +Which doth ascend the engine of my braine, +And when I seeke by reason to suppresse +The heate it gives, the greaters the excesse. +I loath to looke upon a common lip +Were it as corral as _Aurora's_ cheeke +Died with the faire virmillion [of the] sunne. +O but I love her, and they say she is faire.-- +Now _Constantine_. + + _Enter Constantine_. + +_Con_. Your grace did send for me. + +_Duke_. Lend me your habit in exchange of mine, +For I must walk the Citie for a purpose. + +_Con_. With all my heart, my habit and my selfe. + +_Duke_. In any case, watch at the privie chamber. +If any ask for me say I am not well, +And though it be my sonne, let him not enter. + +_Con_. I will. + +_Duke_. Be carefull, gentle _Constantine_. +Now, faire _Valentia, Saxon_ to thy bower +Comes like a _Jove_ to raine a golden shower. + [_Exit_. + +_Con_. Prosper, kind Lord, what ere the action be; +Counsailes of Princes should be ever free. + + [_Exit_. + + + +[SCENE 2.] + + + _Enter Valentia and Montano_. + +_Va_. Torches and Musique there! the room's too darke. + +_Mon_. Prethee, Neece, +Abandon this lascivious unchaste life; +It is the onely blemish of our house; +Scandall unto our name; a Curtezan! +O what's more odious in the eares of men? + +_Val_. Then why doe men resort to Curtezans, +And the best sort? I scorne inferiour groomes, +Nor will I deign[179] to draw aside my maske +To any meaner then a Noble man. +Come,[180] can you dance? a caper and a kisse: +For every turne Ile fold thee in my armes, +And if thou fal'st, although[181] a-kin we be +That thou maist fall[182] soft, Ile fall under thee. +Oh for the lightnesse of all light heel'd girles, +And I would touch the Ceeling with my lips! +Why art thou sad, _Montano_? + +_Mon_. On just cause, +You know I am banish't from my natiue countrey. + +_Val_. This citie is _Meath_, thou art of _Saxonie_. + +_Mon_. But this belongs unto the _Saxons_ Duke, +By the decease of the departed Bishop. + +_Val_. Feare not, thou art as safe within my house +As if perculliz'd in a wall of brasse. +Wheres _Vandermas_? + + _Enter Vandermas_. + +_Van_. Madam, did you call? + +_Mon_. What noble man is that, a sutor to you? + +_Val_. An excellent Pander, a rare doore-keeper.[183] + +_Mon_. I had thought he had bin a gentleman at least. + +_Val_. Because of his attire? + +_Mon_. True. + +_Val_. O the attire +In these corrupted daies is no true signe +To shew the gentleman; peasants now weare robes, +In the habilments of noblemen. +The world's grown naught, such judgement then is base, +For Hares and Asses weare the lion's case.[184] + +_Mon_. 'Tis very costly and exceeding rich. + +_Val_. Ritches to me are like trash to the poore, +I have them in abundance; gold's my slave, +I keep him prisoner in a three-fold chest +And yet his kindred daily visit me. + +_Mon_. Lord, how diligent +Is this rich clothed fellow. + +_Val_. Were he proud +And should but dare to stand still when I call, +I'de run him th[o]rough with a killing frowne. + +_Mon_. Why then belike his service is for love. + +_Val_. Why so are all the servants that attend mee. +They keepe themselves in satin, velvets, gold, +At their owne charges, and are diligent +Daies, moneths, and yeeres, to gaine an amorous smile. +Looke on my face with an indifferent eye, +And thou shalt finde more musicke in my lookes +Then in _Amphions_ Lute or _Orpheus_ Harpe; +Mine eye consists of numbers like the soule, +And if there be a soule tis in mine ey; +For, of the harmony these bright starres make, +I comprehend the formes of all the world; +The story of the Syrens in my voyce +I onely verified, for Millions stand +Inchanted when I speake, and catch my words +As they were orient pearle to adorn their eares; +_Circe_ is but a fable, I transforme +The vertuous, valiant, and the most precise, +Into what forme of minde my fancie please. +Thou might'st bee proud, great Lord, of my abundance, +For in this beautie I shall more renowne +Our noble progenie then all the pennes +Of the best Poets that ere writ of men. +Unto your health a health! let Musique sound, [_Musick_. +That what I taste in Musique may be drown'd. +So fill more wine, we use to drinke up all; +Wine makes good blood and cheeres the heart withal. + +_Van_. Madam, at such time as I heard you call, +A gentleman, it seemes of good discent, +Humblie did crave accesse unto your honor. + +_Valen_. What did he give? + +_Van_. A brace of bags of gold. + +_Valen_. He shall have libertie to enter straight. +But first inrich the chamber with perfumes; +Burne choice _Arabian_ Drugs more deare then +Waters distil'd out of the spirit of Flowers; +And spread our costly Arras to the eye. +Myself sufficiently doe shine in jems; +Where such faire coated Heraulds doe proceed, +It seemes he is honorable and of noble fame. + +_Mon_. Shall I behold this sutor? + +_Valen_. At the full, +At pleasure passe through every spacious Roome. +Be he a Prince, Ile know his high discent +Or proudly scorne to give him his content. +What drum is that? + +_Van_. A Maske, sent by a friend. + +_Valen_. Belike our self must know the mysterie; +Tell them we are prepar'd to see the Maske, +And bid the other noblemen come neere. +Thus am I hourely visited by friends; +Beautie's a counsellor that wants no fee. +They talke of circles and of powerfull spells, +Heeres heavenly art that all blacke art excells. + +_Mon_. Ile walke into the farther gallery. + + _Enter Duke_. + +_Valen_. Sir, you are welcome what so ere you be; +I guesse your birth great by your bounteous fee. + +_Duke_. Your humble servant, bound by a sweet kisse. + +_Valen_. I give you freedome, gentle Sir, by this. + [_He whispers her_. +I know your mind; first censure of the sport, +Then you and I will enter _Venus_ Court. + +_Duke_. More then immortall, O more then divine, +That such perfection, should turne Concubine. + +_Mon_. That voice is like unto the _Saxon Dukes_. +I feare he hath heard I liv'd here in this place, +And he is come to doe me more disgrace. +_Montano_, hide thyself till he be gone; +His daughter thirsts for my destruction. + [_Exit Mont_. + +_Val_. Come sit by me, the Maskers are at hand. + + _Enter Maske_. + +Where are my Maides, to helpe to make the dance? + + _Enter 2 Maids. + + They dance, Valentia with them; they whisper to have + her play at dice and stake on the drum_. + +_Valen_. What, shall we have a Mumming? heres my Jewell. + + [_Play on the drum head_. + +_Duke_. Thou art a jewell most incomparable.-- +Malicious heaven, why from so sweete a face +Have you exempt the mind adorning grace? + + [_They stake and play_. + + _She wins, the drum strikes up_. + +_Val_. More gold, for this is mine, I thanke yee, dice. + +_Duke_. And so are all that doe behold thy beautie.-- +Were she as chaste, as she is outward bright, +Earth would be heaven, and heaven eternal night. +The more I drinke of her delicious eye, +The more I plunge into captivitie. + + _She wins, strike up_. + +_Valen_. Have I wonne all? then take that back agen. +What, scorne my gift? I see you are a gentleman. +No, is't not possible that I may know +Unto whose kindnesse this great debt I owe? +Well, Ile not be importunate, farewell; +Some of your gold let the torch-bearers tell. + +_Duke_. Beautious _Madona_, do you know these galants? + +_Valen_. I guesse them of the Duke of _Saxons_ Court. + +_Duke_.--My subjects, and so many my corrivalls +O every slave is grac't before his Prince. + +_Valen_. Are you not well sir, that your colour failes? + +_Duke_. If I be sicke, 'tis onely in the minde: +To see so faire, so common to all kinde; +I am growne jealous now of all the world.-- +Lady, how ere you prize me, without pleasure +More then a kisse, I tender you this treasure; +O what's a mint spent in such desire +But like a sparke that makes a greater fire?-- +She must be made my Dutches, there it goes; +And marrying her, I marry thousand woes.-- +Adiew, kind Mistresse;--the next newes you heare +Is to sit crown'd in an Imperiall chair.[185] + +_Valen_. Either the man dislikes me, or his braine +Is not his owne, to give such gifts in vaine, +But 'tis the custome in this age to cast +Gold upon gold, to encourage men to waste. +Lightly it comes, and it shall lightly flie; +Whilst colours hold, such presents cannot die. + + [_Exeunt omnes_.[186] + + + +[SCENE 3.] + + + _Enter Reinaldo, Alfred, and Albert_. + +_Alb_. But this is strange, that I should meet your[187] honour +So farre from Court; pray whither were you riding? + +_Alf_. Unto your mannor; heard you not the newes? + +_Alb_. What newes? + +_Alf_. This morning, by the breake of day, +His excellence sent to me by a post +Letters, by which the pillars of the state +Should be assembled to a Parliament, +Which he intends, my Lords, to hold in _Meath_. + +_Alb_. When, if it please your honor? + +_Alf_. Instantly, +With all the haste that winged time can make. + +_Albert_. Sooner the better; tis like the realmes affaires +Are of some weight. + +_Alb_. I will bee there to night, +And so I take my leave. + +_Reinal_. We take our leaves. + + [_Exit Albert and Reinaldo_. + +_Alf_. Farewell, my honor'd friend.-- +There is within my braine a thousand wiles +How I may heape up riches; O the sight, +Of a gold shining Mountaine doth exceede: +Silver is good, but in respect of gold +Thus I esteeme it. + + [_Exit_. + + + +[SCENE 4.] + + + _Enter Hatto, with three petitioners_. + +_Hat_. How now, my friends, what are you? + +1. Poore petitioners. + +_Hat_. Stand farther then, the poore is as unpleasing +Unto me as the plague. + +2. An't please your good Lordship, I am a Merchant, and gladly would +convay a thousand quarters of wheate and other graine over the sea; and +heres a hundred pounds for a commission. + +_Hat_. Thou art no beggar, thou shalt ha't, my friend; +Give me thy money. + +3. I, an't please your honour, have a commoditie of good broad cloth, +not past two hundred; may I shippe them over? and theres a hundred +poundes. + +_Hat_. Thou shalt have leave. + +1. Although I seeme a poore petitioner, +My Lord, I crave a warrant to transport[188] +A hundred Cannons, fiftie Culverings, +With some slight armours, halberts, and halfe pikes; +And theres as much as any of the rest. + +_Hat_. Away, _Cannibal_! wouldst thou ship ordnance? +What though we send unto the foes our corne +To fatten them, and cloth to keepe them warme, +Lets not be so forgetfull of our selves +As to provide them with knives to cut our throates: +So I should arme a thiefe to take my purse. +Hast thou no other course of Merchandize? +Thou shouldst get gold, twill yeeld thee ten in the hundred +On bare exchange, and raise the price with us; +Make us for want coyn brasse and passe it currant +Untill we find profit to call it in. +There are a thousand waies to make thee thrive +And Ile allow of all, bee it nere so bad, +Excepting guns to batter downe our houses. + +1. Letters[189] of Mart I humblie then intreate, +To cease on Rovers that doe secure the seas. + +_Hat_. And on our friends too, if thou canst do't cleanlie. +Spare none, but passe it very closely; +We will be loath to sift thy Piracie, +But open eare to heare what they [thou?] complaine. +Hast thou a Letter? + +1. Ready drawne my Lord. +And heres a brace of hundred pounds for you. + +_Hat_. 'Tis very well; I thinke I shall be rich +If dayly tenants pay me rent thus fast. +Give me your licenses, they shall bee seal'd. +About an houre hence, here attend our pleasure. + +_Omnes_. We thanke your Lordship. + [_Exeunt petiti_. + +_Hat_. O vild catterpillers, +And yet how necassarie for my turne! +I have the Dukes seale for the Citie _Meath_, +With which Ile signe their warrants. +This corne and twentie times as much +Alreadie covertly convai'd to _France_, +And other bordering Kingdomes neere the sea, +Cannot but make a famine in this land; +And then the poore, like dogs, will die apace. +Ile seeme to pittie them, and give them almes +To blind the world; 'tis excellent policie +To rid the land of such, by such device. +A famine to the poore is like a frost +Unto the earth, which kills the paltry wormes +That would destroy the harvest of the spring. +As for the which, I count them painefull men +Worthy to enjoy what they can get: +Beggars are trash, and I esteeme them so; +Starve, hang, or drowne themselves, I am alive; +Loose all the world, so I have wit to thrive. +But I must to the Parliment, and then +Ile have a clause to beggar some rich men. + + [_Exit_. + + + + +_Actus Tertius_. + +[SCENE 1.] + + + _Enter Duke, Fredericke, Constantine, Reinaldo, + Alberto, Alfrid, and amongst them Hatto shuffles in_. + +_Alberto_. Princes and pillars of the _Saxon_ State. + +_Duke_. You are the elected, speake for the Court.-- +Stay, Lord _Alberto_, we usurpe your office: +Who had the charge to fetch _Valentia_? + +_Con_. I, gracious Lord; and when I gave the charge, +A sudden feare, by palenesse, was displai'd +Upon her rosie cheeke; the crimson blood, +That like a robe of state did beautifie +The goodly buildings with a two fold grace, +From either side shrunke downewards to her heart +As if those summons were an adversarie +And had some mighty crime to charge her with. +Millions of thoughts were crowded in her braines: +Her troubled minde her abrupt words describ'd; +She did accuse her selfe without accusers, +And in the terrour of a soule perplext +Cry'd out, 'the Duke intends to cease my goods +Cause I am noted for a Concubine.' +I did replie such comfort as beseemes, +But comfortlesse I brought her to the Court. + +_Duke_. Then she attends our pleasure. + +_Con_. Mightie Lord, +In the next Roome. + +_Duke_. You are careful, _Constantine_. +Conduct her in, and, Lords, give mee your thoughts: +What thinke ye wee intend to _Valentia_? + +_Alf_. Her selfe hath read my sentence in the speech +That _Constantine_ delivered to your grace. + +_Fred_. What should my noble father thinke +But that she is a strumpet, and in that +A blemish to the state wherein she lives? + +_Hat_. She is rich in jewells, and hath store of treasure +Got by the slavery of that choice beautie +Which otherwise admires her to the world. + +_Alb_. Confiscate all her goods unto the Crown, +Thereby disburdening many heavie taxes +Impos'd upon the commons of the land. + +_Hat_. Publique example make her to all such; +Offences in that kind are growne too common, +Lesse shamelesse never[190] were the beautious dames +Of _Meath_ and _Saxony_ then[191] the sufferance +Hath at this instant made them: good my Lord, +Enact some mighty penaltie for lust. + +_Duke_. How wide these Archers shoote of the faire aime +Of my affection! Bring _Valentia_ in. + + _Enter Valentia, usher'd by Constantine_. + +_Valen_. The duetie that in generall I doe owe +Unto your excellence and to this Court, +I pay at once upon my bended knee. + +_Duke_. Behold her, Princes, with impartiall eyes, +And tell me, looks she not exceeding faire? + +_Hat_. If that her mind coher'd with her faire face, +Shee were the worthy wonder of this age. + +_Alfred_. I never saw a beautie more divine +Grossely deform'd by her notorious lust. + +_Fred_. Fairnesse and wantonnesse have made a match +To dwell together, and the worst spoyles both. + +_Albert_. Shee is doubly excellent in sin and beauty. + +_Duke_. That they speake truth my conscience speaks, +But that I love her that I speak my self. +Stand up, divine deformitie of nature, +Beautious corruption, heavenly see[m]ing evill, +What's excellent in good and bad, stand up; +And in this Chaire, prepared for a Duke, +Sit, my bright Dutchesse, I command thee, sit. +You looke, I am sure, for some apologie +In this rash action; all that I can say +Is that I love her, and wil marry her. + +_Fred_. How, love a _Lais_, a base _Rodophe_, +Whose body is as common as the sea +In the receipt of every lustfull spring? + +_Albert_. The elements of which these orbes consists, +Fire, ayre, and water, with the ground[192] we tread, +Are not more vulgar, common, popular, +Then her imbracements. + +_Alberto_. To incheyne the thoughts +Unto this semblance[193] of lascivious love +Were to be married to the broad rode[194] way +Which doth receiue the impression of every kind. + +_Fred_. Speech doth want modesty to set her forth +In her true forme, base and contemptible; +The very hindes and peasants of the land +Will bee Corrivals with your excellence +If you espouse such a notorious Trull. + +_Albert_. We shall have lust a virtue in the Court, +The wayes of sinne be furthered by reward, +Panders and Parasites sit in the places +Of the wise Counsellors and hurry all. + +_Fred_. Father, as you are princely in your birth, +Famous in your estate, belov'd of all, +And (which ads greatest glory to your greatnesse,) +Esteemed[195] wise, shew not such open[196] folly +Such palpable, such grosse, such mountaine folly; +Be not the By-word of your neighbour Kings, +The scandall of your Subjects, and the triumph +Of _Lenos, Macrios_,[197] and the hatefull stewes. +Why speake you not, that are his brother friends, +You that doe weare the Liveries of time, +The silver cognizance of gravitie? +Shall none but young me schoole the reverent [_sic_] old? +Birds teach the Dam, stars fill the glorious spheares +Of the all lightning Sunne? speake whilst you may, +Or this rash deede will make a fatall day. + +_Duke_. You have said too much, encourage none to speake +More then have spoke[n]; by my royall blood, +My mind's establisht, not to be withstood. +Those that applaud my choyse give us your hands, +And helpe to tye these sacred nuptiall bands. + +_Hat_. What likes your excellence, likes me well. + +_Alfred_. And I agree to what my Soveraigne please. + +_Fred_. These are no brothers, they are flatterers, +Contrary to themselves in their owne speech. +You that doe love the honour of your Prince, +The care and long life of my father, +The hereditary right deriv'd to me, +Your countries Welfare, and your owne renowne, +Lend me your hands to plucke her from the throne. + +_Valen_. Princes, forbeare, I doe not seeke the match; +It is his highnesse pleasure I sit here, +And if he love me 'tis no fault of mine. +Behoves me to be thankefull to his Grace, +And strive in virtue to deserve this place. + +_Duke_. Thou speak'st too mildly to these hare braind youthes. +He that presumes to plucke her from the chaire +Dyes in the attempt, this sword shall end all care. + +_Fred_. Why, shee's notorious. + +_Duke_. But she will amend. + +_Fred_. 'Tis too farre growne to have a happy end. + +_Duke_. The dangerous the disease, greater's the cure. + +_Fred_. Princes may seeke renowne by wayes more sure, +Shee is dishonest. + +_Duke_. Honestie's unseene; +Shee's faire, and therefore fit to be a Queene. + +_Fred_. But vertue is to be preferd ere lust. + +_Duke_. Those that are once false, shall we ne're trust? + +_Fred_. Wise men approve their actions by the tryall. + +_Duke_. I say she is mine in spight of all deniall; +Bring me the Crowne. + +_Fred_. To set upon her head? +Friends, draw your swords, first strike the strumpet dead. + +_Duke_. My guard, my guard! + +_Alfred_. For shame, put up your swords. + +_Fred_. For shame, great Rulers, leave your flattering words. + +_Albert_. 'Tis madnesse in the King and worse in you. + +_Hat_. Though you prove traytors, we'll not prove untrue. + +_Fred_. Will you dismisse this Strumpet to the stewes, +Or our allegance in this act refuse? + +_Duke_. Doe what you dare, the election still shall stand. + +_Fred_. Woe and destruction then must rule the land. +Come, Lord _Rinaldo_, valiant _Alberto_, come; +We have friends enough to grace a warlike Drum. [_A shout within_. +Hearke how the Commons doe applaud our cause. +Lascivious Duke, farewell, father, oh vilde! +Where Queanes are mothers, _Fredericke_ is no child. + + [_Exeunt_. + +_Duke_. My guard pursue them, and alive or dead +Cut off the cause by which these cries are bred. +Come, my faire Dutchesse; first unto the Church, +There sollemnize our nuptials; then unto our armes: +A little rough breath overbeares these stormes. + + [_Exeunt. Manet Alfred & Hatto_. + +_Alfred_. The Duke's besotted. Now we are secure; +This match makes well for us; we may command +And on them lay the abuses of the land. + +_Hat_. Excellent good; we are like to have warres indeed, +But in the meane the poore will starve for bread. +Wee must share proffits, howsoere things goe. +Winner or looser, neither is our foe; +For mutually we'll beare our selues in all +Or taking part leane to the strongest wall. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +[SCENE 2.] + + + _Enter Constantine and Euphrata_. + +_Euph_. My father married to a Concubine! +Then he will pardon though I marry thee; +And howsoe'r, about it presently, +The rather for _Montano_ is repealde, +Because of his alliance to _Valentia_. + +_Con_. I am ready, gentle love, and glad in mind +That my faire _Euphrata_ will prove so kind. + +_Euph_. Come my deare _Constantine_, performe this right [_sic_], +And arme in arme thus will we sleepe to night. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +[SCENE 3.] + + + _Enter Fredericke, Rinaldo, and Alberto, with Drum, + Colours, and Souldiers_. + +_Fred_. You that are carefull of your countries weale, +Fellow compere, Supporter of the State, +Let us imbrace in steele, our cause is good. +What minde so base that would not shed his blood +To free his countrey from so great an ill +As now raignes in it by lascivious will? +Our[198] friends to warre and, for my part, +Ere lust beare sway, Ile gladly yeeld my heart. + +_Alberto_. I heare the Duke is strong. + +_Fred_. Suppose him so, +And be advis'd strongly to meete the foe. +I had rather, you should think him ten thousand strong +Then find it so to our destruction. +An enemy thought many and found few, +When our first courage failes, gives us a new. + + [_Alarum_. + +_Alberto_. That's the Dukes Drum. + +_Fred_. They are welcome to their death, +The ground they tread on covers them with earth. + + [_Exeunt_. + + _Enter Fredericke and Duke severall_. + +_Fred_. The enemy sends forth a Champion +To encounter me, I heard him use my name; +The honour of the combate shall be mine. + +_Duke_. Come, boy, retreate not, only I intend +With thy lifes losse this bloody warre to end. + +_Fred_. My naturall father in my blood I feele, +Passion more powerfull then that conquering steele. + +_Duke_. Why dost thou pause, base boy? thy Soveraigne's come, +To inter the life I gave thee in this tombe. + +_Fred_. My father, oh my father! nature, be still +That I may have my fame, or he his will. + +_Duke_. What, dost thou feare thy cause? is't now so evill? + +_Fred_. I am possest with a relenting devill; +Legions of kinde thoughts have supriz'd my sense +And I am too weake to be mine owne defence. + +_Duke_. Thou art a coward. + +_Fred_. And you make me so, +For you come charm'd like a dishonest[199] foe. +You have conferr'd with spirits, and tane their aydes +To make me weake, by them I am betraid, +My strength drawne from me by a slight; +What other meanes could hold me from the fight? + +_Duke_. I have no spells about me. + +_Fred_. 'Tis untrue, +For naturall Magique you have brought with you, +And such an exorcisme in your name +That I forbeare the combate to my shame. +But that I am no coward, from your host +Elect two of the valiantst that dare most; +Double that number, treble it, or more, +I have heart at will t'encounter with a score. +Or had your selfe come in a strange attire, +One of us twaine had lost his living fire. + + _Enter[200] Montano, Alfred, Vandermas, Valentia, and others_. + +_Duke_. Ile trie your valour; see, audacious boy, +Thou art incompast with a world of foes +_Montano, Alfred, Vandermas_, and all: +My Dutchesse comes, too, to behold thy fall. +If thou hast spirit enough, now crave her ayd, +Never was poore ventrous souldier worse apayd. + [_Exit Duke_. + +_Fred_. My[201] desire now from the skie of starres. +Dart all your Deitie, since I am beset, +In honourable wise pay[202] all Natures debt. + + _They fight, Fredericke beats them off and courses + the Dutchesse over the stage_. + + + + +_Actus Quartus_. + +[SCENE 1.] + + + _Enter [at one door] Duke, Montano, Valentia, Hatto, and Alfred. + + Drumme, Colours, and Souldiers. [At another door + enter Frederick, Rinaldo, Alberto, with soldiers_.] + +_Duke_. Our anger long agoe, renowned Lords, +Is satisfied in faire _Valentias_ love. +Behold our proud sonne and these traiterous crew +That dares confront us in the field of _Mars_. + +_Valen_. You have been too patient, my beloved Lord, +In calming these tumultuous jarring spirits. +Scourge them with steele, and make the proudest know +Tis more then death to have their Prince their foe. + +_Mon_. Bloody constraints beseemes where dutie failes, +And, oratory ceasing, force prevailes. + +_Hat_. Peace would doe better, so it pleas'd your sonne. + +_Fred_. In her allurements first [the strife] begun; +Banish her from the land, and Ile resigne. + +_Duke_. Learne thine owne dutie, traitor, I know mine. + +_Albert_. Then there's no banishment? + +_Duke_. None but by death; +Thy head is forfeit for that daring breath. + +_Alfred_. Submit, degenerate and presumptuous Lord. + +_Albert_. When we are ignorant to weild a sword. + +_Fred_. Never shall noble knee bend to this ground, +As long as that vile strumpet liveth crownd. + +_Duke_. I cannot stay to heare my love deprav'd. +In few words is it peace, or shall we fight +Till our deepe wounds shall dampe the heavenly light, +Make the ayre purple with the reaking gore? + +_Fre_. Fight, whilst life serves you, we will nere give ore; +The grasse greene pavement shall be drownd in blood, +And yet Ile wade to kill her in the flood. + +_Duke_. Alarum, Drum! madnesse is on their side, +All vertuous counsell is by them defied. +Upon our part strike Drums, Trumpets proclaime +Death most assur'd to those that love their shame. + + _Alarum, fight lustily, and drive away the Duke; + Fredericke pursues Valentia over the stage and + takes her; a Retreate sounded_. + + _Enter at one doore the Duke, Mon., Hatto, and + Alfred, with Drum and Colours.--Enter at the + other doore Fredericke leading Valentia prisoner, + Rinaldo and Alberto with Drum and Colours_. + +_Duke_. Why doe traitors sound retreate so soone? + +_Fred_. Behold the cause. + +_Duke_. _Valentia_ prisoner? + +_Fred_. The firebrand of this tumultuous warre, +The originall from whence your subjects bloud +Flowes in abundance on[203] this spatious playn. + +_Valen_. And what of all this? + +_Fred_. That thy lifes too meane +To satisfie the unworthiest of the Campe +For the effusion of a loyall drop. + +_Duke_. Meanes _Fredericke_ then, to kill his fathers heart In faire +_Valentia's_ death? + +_Fred_. Not touch your hand, +Other then humble as becomes a sonne; +But she shall suffer for enchanting you. + +_Valen_. I am a Dutchesse, set my ransome downe. + +_Fred_. A Dutchesse! whence proceeds that borowed name? +Of what continuance? scarcely hath the Sunne +Beheld thy pride a day, but doth decline +Shaming to view a crowned Concubine. + +_Duke_. In mine owne honour, _Fredericke_, I command +Thou set a ransome on _Valentia_. + +_Fred_. What honor's that? your Dukedomes interest? +Your princely birth? your honerable fame? +All these are blemisht with a strumpets name. + +_Mon_. Be not so cruell to bereave her life +'Twill draw upon thee a perpetuall scar,-- +Thy fathers curse, and a continuall warre. + +_Duke_. Oh doe not threaten; _Fredericke_ is so mild +He will not prove such a degenerate child. +I cannot blame him tho' hee rise in armes: +'Twas not in hate to me, but in disdaine +That I should sell my royaltie so vaine; +But did he know the value of the jem, +Hee would not crase[204] it for a Dyadem. +That shee was common her owne words approve, +But many faults are cover'd where men love. +As thou respects my blessing and good dayes, +Restore her, _Fredericke_, and augment her prayse. + +_Fred_. Restore her? + +_Albert_. Never. + +_Duke_. _Albert_, thou wert kind +And I ne're wrong'd thee; doe not change thy minde. + +_Hat_. You doe abase your honour to intreate. + +_Duke_. How can I choose? my affection is so great. + +_Alfred_. Your power is strong, the enemy is but weake. + +_Duke_. In her destruction all my powers will breake. +As thou dost hope of kindnesse in thy choyse +If ere thou love, give eare unto my voice; +Turne not aside thy eye, the feares I feele +Makes me to bow, where tis thy part to kneele. +Loe vassailelike, laying aside command, +I humbly crave this favour at thy hand: +Let me have my beloved, and take my state; +My life I undervalue to that rate. +Crave anything that in my power doth lye, +Tis thine, so faire _Valentia_ may not dye. + +_Fred_. My soule is griev'd, and it appals my blood +To see my father pusseld in such mood. +Yet shall shee dye, Ile doe as I have said; +With mine hand Ile chop off the Strumpets head. + +_Alberto_. Kill her, my Lord, or let me have the honour. + +_Duke_. Tigers would save her, if they lookt upon her; +Shee is so beautifull, so heavenly bright, +That she would make them love her for the sight. +Thou art more rude then such if thou proceede +In the execution of so vilde a deede. +Remember one thing, I did never love +Till thou, my _Fredericke_, broughtst that fatall Glove. +That and the Owners name thou didst descry; +Onely for that cause, let not my love dye. + +_Fred_. O gods! + +_Duke_. Cannot my kneeling serve, my teares prevaile, +When all helpes faile mee, yet this will not faile: +Proffer thy weapon to her beautious side, +And with her heart my heart I will divide. +Intreaty Ile urge none more then are past, +And either now relent or heres my last. + +_Fred_. Stay: if I should relent, will you agree +To sign our general pardon presently? + +_Duke_. By heaven I doe, I freely pardon all +And a reward I give in generall. + +_Fred_. Then take her, you deserve her were shee better, +Making your Crown and life to be her Debter. + +_Duke_. Welcome a thousand times, welcome, sweete wife, +Never more deare then now I have saved[205] thy life. + +_Valen_. This more then kindnesse I turne backe to you, +Doubling my chast vow to bee ever true. + +_Fred_. Then here the warres end, here[206] our fightings marde, +Yet by your leave Ile stand upon my Guard. + +_Duke_. Take any course you please, Citie or Towne, +My royall word Ile keepe by this my Crowne. + +_Fred_. Then thus Ile take my leave. + +_Duke_. Since we must part, +Farewell, my Sonne, all farewell with my heart. + + [_Exeunt Fred, and his [sic]_. + +_Mon_. Twas well, my Lord, 'twas a good policie, +To gaine your bride: I hope your grace did not meane +To be thus overrulde, by a proud Sonne. + +_Duke_. Why, thinke you he intends some treachery? + +_Mon_. Why not? and did release _Valentia_ +To blind your eyes. Hee that could be so proud, +To rise in armes against his naturall Father, +Hath courage to doe more when he sees time. + +_Duke_. But I have pardon'd that offence by oath. + +_Mon_. It were no periury to make him know +Hee is your Sonne, and sonnes a dutie owe. +This sequestration will in time aspire +Unto a flame shall set your Realme on fire; +For[207] when a Subject hath the meanes of will, +'Tis not enough, to say he has no will; +For will is alter'd by the place and time +And hee that's once up knowes the way to clime. +I speake perchance like a prophetique foole, +But these are wise can counsaile with your bride; +Wisedome adviseth timely to provide. + +_Duke_. What thinkes my love of _Frederickes_ reconcilment? + +_Valen_. That he has spirit enough, to be a traytor. +But I am beholding to him for a life +And he may brag he gave your grace a wife. +A [O?] good old man, he could not choose but feele +For shame some small remorse to see you kneele. +Pray God he gave me not into your hand +That he might be the ruine of your land. + +_Duke_. Thinkes my love so? but, brothers, what's your censure? + +_Hat_. I am no Polititian. + +_Alfred_. Neither I: +Wee are both content to live quietly. + +_Duke_. Hee may be a villaine tho' he be my Sonne. + +_Mon_. Why not? and worke your ruine like a foe. +Had he meant well, why did he leave you so? +Your noble heart was free from all deceipt, +But hee's retirde to doe some dangerous feate. +When Subjects stand upon their guard, looke to't, +They have some plot in hand, and they will do't. + +_Duke_. What course is readiest to prevent such mischiefe? + +_Mon_. Plucke up the fulsome thistle in the prime: +Young trees bend lightly, but grow strong in time. +Were I the worthiest to advise your honour, +You should pursue him with your spredding bandes +Swifter in march then is the lightning flame, +And take him tardy whilst his plots are tame. +Now to charge on his army, questionlesse +Would drive them all into a great distresse, +If not confound them; having tane your Sonne, +You may be as kind, and doe as hee hath done; +So shall he know himself and be lesse proud. + +_Valen_. The counsailes good. + +_Duke_. And it shall be allowed. +You that doe love me, see the host prepar'd +To scare those traytors that our liues have scarde. +Our armie's many, but their power is few:[208] +Besides, they are traytors, all with us are true. +Sound Drums and trumpets, make the world rebound; +Hearten our friends, and all our foes confound. + [_Alarum_. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +[SCENE 2.] + + + _Enter Montano, with two or three souldiers; + Vandarmas leading Fredericke bound_. + +_Fred_. Base cowards, traytors! how am I surprizde, +[Bound] with these bonds? I am a Prince by birth, +And princely spirits disdaine such clogs of earth. +Let goe, you slaves. + +_Mon_. First know your fathers pleasure. + +_Fred_. You are too bold. + +_Mon_. But you shall keepe a measure. + +_Fred_. Thou blood of common Concubines, must I +Be bound by thee, and heir of _Saxony_? + + _Enter Duke and Valen_. + +_Duke_. It is our pleasure. + +_Valen_. Have you caught him so? +Now shall you waite the mercy we will shew: +I was too base to be your father's wife. + +_Duke_. But he shall sue to thee to save his life. + +_Fred_. Perjurde, ungratefull, unnaturall, +Is this the pardon given in generall? + +_Duke_. Wee'l talke of that hereafter; make him fast. + +_Valen_. Helpe, _Vandermas_, our self will ayding be +To keepe in awe such sencelesse trechery. + +_Duke_. My helpe and all to prison, there till death +Remaine in duresse. + +_Fred_. Rather stop my breath, +Strangle me with these cords; prison to me +Is twenty deaths, I will have liberty. +Now as you are a father, be more kind; +You did not find me in so sterne a mind. +Are[209] you forgetful of the life I sav'd? +Shall a Duke's Sonne by treason thus be slav'd? +If you suspect my love, grant me the fight; +I dare in single combate any knight, +Any adventurer, any pandorus hinde, +To proue my faith of an unfained mind. + +_Duke_. Away with him. + +_Fred_. I see my death's set downe, +And some adulterous heire must weare that Crowne. +To intreate a _Rodophe_, I had rather dye +Then have my life lodg'd in such infamy: +If all my fortunes on her words depend, +Let her say kill me, and so make an end. + +_Duke_. Why stay you? + +_Vander_. Good my Lord. + +_Fred_. Peace, untaught Groome, +My heart's so great that Ide forerun my doome. +There's no release meant, you have vowed I see +To dam your soules by wilfull periury. +Yet that I am my self, let these words shew: +To die is naturall, tis a death I owe, +And I will pay it, with a mind as free +As I enjoyed in my best libertie. +But this assure your self, when all is done, +They'l kill the father that will kill the sonne. [_Exit_. + +_Duke_. What's to be done now? + +_Mon_. Seale unto his death, +Your warrant nere the sooner takes effect: +'Twill be a meanes to make him penitent. +Seeing his fault, hee'l taste your mercie best, +When now he proudly thinkes he is opprest. + +_Duke_. A Warrant shall be sign'd, and unto thee +I doe commend it; deale not partially; +If he be sorry and in true remorse, +Cancell the Writ, else let it have full force. +Had I ten sonnes, as I have onely this, +They should all die, ere thou depriv'd of blisse. +So great is my affection, my faire wife, +That to save thine Ide frankly give my life. +Come, weele about it strait, all time seemes long, +Where thou hast found slight cause to feare my wrong. + +_Valen_. That writ Ile take, and a conclusion trie: +If he can love he lives, if hate me die. +For howsoere, I seeme to scorne the man, +Hee's somewhat deare in my affection.-- +Here comes your brothers. + + _Enter Alfred, and Hatto_. + +_Alfred_. May it please your grace, +By chance entring into Saint _Maries_ Church, +This morn by breake of day, I espied +That that I know will vexe your Excellence: +Your daughter _Euphrata_ is married +To the ambitious beggar _Constantine_. + +_Duke_. My daughter married to my Chamber-squire? + +_Mon_. Your Excellence did banish me the land +Because I did suspect her with that fellow. + +_Duke_. He shall be tortur'd with th'extreamest plague +For his presumption.--Have you brought them, +That I may kill them with a killing looke? + +_Hat_. Without direction we have ventured +To lay upon them your strict command, +And they attend. + +_Duke_. Bring the presumptuous. + + _Enter Constantine, and Euphrata, Otho following in disguise_. + +_Euph_. Forward, _Constantine_, our Rites are done, +Thou art my husband, doe not feare his eye, +The worst it can import is but to die. + +_Duke_. Base and degenerate. + +_Euph_. He is a Gentleman, +'Twas base of you to wed a Curtizan. + +_Mon_. Her brothers spirit right, bold and audacious. + +_Euph_. When[210] I am no bastard, wherefore should I feare? +The knot is sacred, and I hold it deare; +I am wedded unto virtue, not to will, +Such blessed unions never bring forth ill. +If I offend, in disobedience, +Judge of the power of love by your offence. +Father, you have no reason for this ire; +Frowne whilst you kill us, desire is desire. + +_Duke_. A Curtezan? hath that ambitious boy +Taught you such Rethoricke? you shall taste like joy. +I will not reason with you, words are vaine, +The fault is best discerned in the paine. +Your hastie marriage hath writ downe his death, +And thy proud words shall scale it with thy breath. +By what is dearest to mee, here I sweare, +Both of your heads, shall grace a fatall beere. +Take them to prison, Ile not heare a word, +This is the mercie that we will afford. +Since they are growne so proud, next morn begun, +Let them be both beheaded with my sonne. + +_Con_. Short and sweet: _Euphrata_, the doome is faire, +We shall be soone in heaven, there ends my care. +I scorne entreatie, and, my deare, I know, +All such slavery thou hatest so, +'Twill be a famous deed for this good man +To kill all's children for a Curtezan. + +_Euph_. Wilt thou die with me? + +_Const_. Would I live in heaven? +Thou art now too high for me, death makes us even. + +_Euph_. Looke to your dukedome: those that hast our fall +Have by their avarice almost hurried all. +There's a whole Register of the poores crie: +Whilst they are reading them, imbrace and die. + + [_Flings downe her lap full of Petitions_. + + [_Exeunt Euph. and Constant_. + +_Duke_. Beare them away.--And now let's reade these Writes. +What's here? complaints against my worthy brothers +For corne transported, Copper money stampt,[211] +Our subjects goods ceaz'd, and I know not what. +A plague upon this busie-headed rabble! +We will have tortures made to awe the slaves; +Peace makes them ever proud and malapert, +They'l be an Overseer of the State. + +_Valen_. And plead reformation to depose you. + +_Duk_. True, my faire Dutchesse, but Ile cut them short. +Rule still, deare brothers: take these to the fire, +Let me reade somewhat that augments desire, +Authors and golden Poems full of love; +Such the Petitions are that I approve. +So I may live in quiet with my wife, +Let fathers, mothers, children, all lose life. +If thou have issue, in despight of fate +They shall succeed in our Imperiall state. +Come, sweet, to dauncing, then to sport and play, +Till we have ruled all our life away. + + [_Exeunt_. + + _Manet, Otho_. + +_Otho_. O pittifull condition of a Realme, +Where the chiefe ruler is ore-rul'd by pleasure! +Seeing my friend supriz'd, in this disguise +I followed him to meete the consequence. +And to my griefe I see his marriage rites +Will cut him short of all this earths delights. +What's that to me? When _Constantine_ is dead, +I have some hope to attaine her Nuptiall bed. +But she is doom'd as well as hee to die: +Can the Duke act his daughters Tragedie? +It is impossible; he will relent, +And Ile perswade her freely to repent. +Yet 'tis most likelie that he will agree: +He is so farre spent in vild tyrannie. +The commons hate him for the wrong he hath done +(By his brothers meanes), the Nobles for his sonne. +Famine spreads through the land, the people die; +Yet he lives senselesse of their miserie. +Never were subjects more mislead by any, +Nor ever Soveraigne hated by so many. +But, _Constantine_, to thee I cast an eye; +Shall all our friendship end in enmitie? +Shall I, that ever held thee as my life, +Hasten thy death that I may get thy wife? +Or love or friendship, whether shall exceed, +Ile explaine your vertue in this following deed. + + [_Exit_. + + + +[SCENE 3.] + + + _Enter Valentia, Montano, and Vandermas_. + +_Val_. Have you the instruments I gave in charge. + +_Vand_. Wee have. + +_Val_. And resolution fitting for the purpose? + +_Mon_. All things are ready, with our faithfull hearts. + +_Val_. And she that undertakes so great an act +As I intend, had need of faithfull hearts +This is the prison, and the jaylor comes +In happy time: where's trayterous _Fredericke_? + + _Enter Jaylor_. + +_Jaylor_. What is your highnesse pleasure with the Prince? + +_Val_. Looke there, if you can reade. + +_Jai_. O heavenly God, +What doe I read? a warrant for his death? + +_Valen_. Resigne your keyes, goe weepe a dirge or twaine +But make no clamour with your lamentation. + +_Jay_. I dare not prophesie what my soule feares, +Yet Ile lament his tragedie in teares. [_Exit_. + +_Valen_. Oft have I seene a Nobleman arraign'd +By mighty Lords, the pillars of the land, +Some of which number, his inclined friends, +Have wept, yet past the verdict of his death: +So fares it with the Prince. Were I his jaylor, +And so affected unto _Fredericks_ life, +The fearfull'st tyrant nor the cruell'st plagues +That ever lighted on tormented soules, +Should make me yeeld my prisoner to their hands. + +_Mon_. Madam, he knowes his duty, and performes it. + +_Valen_. Setting aside all dutie, I would die +Ere like a woman weepe a tragedie; +Tis basenesse, cowardize. Dutie! O slave, +Had I a friend, I'de dye in my friends grave. +But it sorts well for us; Hindes will be Hindes, +And the Ambitious tread upon such mindes. +Waite, whilest I call you, in the jaylors house. + +_Mon_. We will. + [_Exeunt Van. and Mon_. + +_Valen_. My Lord, Prince _Fredericke_. + + _Enter Fred_. + +_Fred_. Wofull _Fredericke_ +Were a beseeming Epitaph for me, +The other tastes of too much soveraigntie. +What? is it you! the glory of the stewes! + +_Valen_. Thy mother, _Fredericke_. + +_Fred_. I detest that name, +My mother was a Dutches of true fame; +And now I thinke upon her, when she died +I was ordain'd to be indignified. +She never did incense my Princely Father +To the destruction of his loving sonne: +Oh she was vertuous, trulie naturall, +But this step-divell doth promise our fall. + +_Val_. Why doest thou raile on me? I am come +To set thee free from all imprisonment. + +_Fred_. By what true supersedeas but by death? +If it be so, come, strike me to the earth; +Thou needest no other weapon but thine eye; +Tis full of poyson, fixe it, and Ile die. + +_Val_. Uncharitable youth, I am no serpent venom'd, +No basiliske to kill thee with my sight. + +_Fre_. Then thou speak'st death, I am sorry I mistooke; +They both are fatall, theres but little choice; +The first inthral'd my father, the last me, +No deadlier swords ever us'd enemie; +My lot's the best that I dye with the sound, +But he lives dying in a death profound. +I grow too bitter, being so neere my end; +Speake quickly, boldly, what your thoughts intend. + +_Valen_. Behold this warrant, you can reade it well. + +_Fred_. But you the interpretation best can tell: +Speake, beautious ruine, twere great injurie +That he should reade the sentence that must dye. + +_Val_. Then know in briefe 'tis your fathers pleasure. + +_Fred_. His pleasure, what? + +_Val_. That you must loose your life. + +_Fred_. Fatall is his pleasure, 'tis to please his wife. +I prethee, tell me, didst thou ever know +A Father pleased his sonne to murder so? +For what is't else but murder at the best? +The guilt whereof will gnawe him in his brest, +Torment him living, and when I am dead +Curse thee by whose plot I was murdered? +I have seene the like example, but, O base! +Why doe I talke with one of your disgrace? +Where are the officers? I have liv'd too long, +When he that gave me life does me this wrong. + +_Val_. That is thy fathers hand, thou dost not doubt? +And if thou shouldst, I have witnesse to approve it. +Yet tho it be his hand, grant to my request, +Love me and live. + +_Fred_. To live so, I detest. Love thee! + +_Valen_. I, love me, gentle _Fredericke_, love me. + +_Fred_. Incestuous strumpet, cease. + +_Val_. Oh thou dealest ill, +To render so much spleene for my good will. + +_Fred_. Torment farre worse then death. + +_Valen_. Ile follow thee: +Deare _Fredericke_, like thy face, be thy words faire. + +_Fre_. This monstrous dealing doubles my deaths care. + +_Valen_. What shall I call thee to allay this ire? + +_Fred_. Why, call me son and blush at thy desire. + +_Valen_. I never brought thee foorth. + +_Fred_. Art thou not wife +Unto my father? + +_Val_. Thinke upon thy life: +It lyes like mine, onely in gentle breath; +Or that thy father's dead, and after death +'Tis in my choice to marry whom I will. + +_Fred_. Any but me. + +_Valen_. O doe not thinke so ill, +Rather thinke, thou art a stranger, not his sonne; +Then 'tis no incest tho the Act be done. +Nature unto her selfe is too unkind +To buzze such scruples into _Fredericks_ minde; +Twas a device of man to avoid selfe love, +Else every pleasure in one stocke should move, +Beautie in grace part never from the kinne. + +_Fred_. If thou persever as thou hast begun, +I shall forget I am my fathers sonne, +I shall forget thou art my fathers wife, +And where 'tis I must die abridge thy life. + +_Valen_. Why did'st not kill me, being thy prisoner then, +But friendly didst deliver me again[212] +Unto thy father, wert not thou didst love me? + +_Fred_. Beyond all sufferance, monster, thou dost move me. +'Twas for my fathers sake, not for thine owne; +That, to thy lifes losse, thou hadst throughly knowne +But that relenting nature playde her part, +To save thy blood whose losse had slaine his heart: +And it repents me not hee doth survive, +But that his fortune was so ill to wive. +Come, kill, for for that you came; shun delayes +Lest living Ile tell this to thy dispraise, +Make him to hate thee, as he hath just cause, +And like a strumpet turne thee to the lawes. + +_Valen_. Good _Fredericke_. + +_Fred_. Tis resolv'd on, I haue said. + +_Valen_. Then fatall Ministers I craue your ayde. + + _Enter Van. and Mont_. + +Come, _Vandermas, Montano_, wheres your corde? +Quicklie dispatch, strangle this hatefull Lord. +Or stay: because I love him, he shall chuse +The easiest of three deaths that we may use, +The halter, poyson, or bloodshedding blade. + +_Fred_. Any of them. + +_Valen_. This Aconite's well made, a cup of poyson +Stuft with despatching simples, give him this, +And he shall quickly leave all earthly blisse. +There, take it, _Fredericke_, our last guift of grace; +Since thou must die, Ile have thee die apace. + +_Fred_. O happie meanes, given by a trecherous hand, +To be my true guide to the heavenly land! +Death steales upon me like a silken sleepe; +Through every vaine doe leaden rivers flowe,[213] +The gentlest poyson that I ever knewe, +To work so coldly, yet to be so true. +Like to an infant patiently I goe, +Out of this vaine world, from all worldly woe; +Thankes to the meanes, tho they deserve no thankes, +My soule beginnes t'ore-flow these fleshly bankes. +My death I pardon unto her and you, +My sinnes God pardon; so vaine world adiew. + [_He falls asleep_. + +_Valen_. Ha, ha, ha. + +_Mon_. Hee's dead, why does your highnesse laugh? + +_Valen_. Why, Lord _Montano_, that I love to see, +He that hath sav'd my life, to die for me. +But theres a riddle in this Princes death, +And Ile explaine it on this floore of earth. +Come, to his sisters execution goe, +We have varietie of joyes in woe. +I am sure, you have heard his Excellence did sweare +Both of their heads should grace a Kingly beare. +Upon a mourning hearse let him be layd; +He shalbe intombed with a wived maid. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + + +_Actus Quintus_. + +[SCENE 1.] + + + _Enter Duke, Hatto, and Alfred_. + +_Duke_. Bring forth the prisoners: wher's my beauteous Dutches +That she may see the ruine of her foes? +She that upbraided her with slanderous wordes, +She that in scorne of due obedience +Hath matcht the honour of the _Saxons_ blood +Unto a beggar; let them be brought foorth, +I will not rise from this tribunal seate +Till I have seene their bodies from their heads. + +_Alfred_. Here comes the Dutches with proud _Fredericks_ hearse. + + _Enter, Valentia, Montano, Vandermas, with others, + bearing the hearse, with Fredericke on, covered + with a black robe_. + +_Duke_. So, set it downe: why have you honored it +With such a sable coverture? A traytor, +Deserves no cloth of sorrow: set it downe, +And let our other offspring be brought foorth. +My beauteous, lovely, and admired love, +Come, sit by us in an imperiall chayre, +And grace this state throne with a state more fayre. + +_Valen_. My gracious Lord, I hope your Excellence +Will not be so forgetfull of your honour, +Prove so unnaturall to your loving daughter +As to bereave her of her life +Because she hath wedded basely gainst your will. +Though _Fredericke_ dyed deservedly, yet shee +May by her loves death clear her indignitie. + +_Duke_. She and her love we have sentenced to die, +Not for her marriage onely, tho that deede +Crownes the contempt with a deserved death, +But chiefly for she raild against thy worth, +Upbraided thee with tearmes so monstrous base +That nought but death can cleare the great disgrace. +How often shall I charge they be brought foorth? +Were my heart guilty of a crime so vilde, +I'de rend it forth, then much more kill my childe. + +_Val_. O, that this love may last! 'tis sprung so hie, +Like flowers at full growth that grow to die. + + _Enter Julia, with a vaile over her head, Otho with + another, with Officers_. + +_Duke_. What means these sable vailes upon their faces? + +_Val_. In signe they sorrow for your high displeasure. +For since the houre they were imprisoned, +They have liv'd like strangers, hood-winkt together. +You may atchieve great fame, victorious Lord, +To save the lives of two such innocents. + +_Duke_. Tis pretty in thee, my soule lov'd Dutchesse, +To make this Princely motion for thy foes. +Let it suffice, the'are traitors to the state, +Confederators with those that sought my life, +A kinne to _Fredericke_, that presumptious boy, +That durst beare armes against his naturall father: +Are they more deare then he? off with their vailes. + +_Mon_. O yet be mercifull unto your daughter. + +_Duke_. You make me mad, headsman; dispatch I say, +They are doom'd to die, and this the latest day. + +_Otho_. Then let him strike, who ever traitors be, +I am sure no treason lives in her or me. + +_Duke_. How now, whats here? _Otho_ and _Julia_! +Am I deluded? where is _Euphrata_, +And that audacious traitor _Constantine_? + +_Otho_. Why, fled. + +_Duke_. To whom? + +_Otho_. To safetie, here was none. +I can resolve you of the circumstance: +Betwixt the noble _Constantine_ and I,-- +Noble I call him for his virtuous minde-- +There was a league of love so strongly made +That time wants houres, and occasion cause, +To violate the contract of our hearts. +Yet on my part the breach did first appeare: +He brought me to behold his beauteous love +The faire _Euphrata_; her Angel sight +Begate in me the fire of private love: +I that before did like her for my friend, +Now to deceive him, sought her for my selfe; +But my device was knowne unto my friend, +And worthilie he banisht me his sight. + +_Duke_. Whats this to their destruction? seeke them forth. + +_Otho_. They are far enough from suffering such a death. +I, well considering my unfriendly part, +Bethought me how to reconcile my self +Unto my hearts endeared _Constantine_; +And seeing him carried to the prison, we +Followed, and found meanes for their libertie. + +_Duke_. Are they escapt then? + +_Otho_. Both, in our disguise, +And we stand here to act their tragedies. +If they have done amisse, on us +Impose the Law. + +_Julia_. O let our suites prevaile, +I ask to dye for my deare Ladies sake. + +_Otho_. I for my friend. + +_Duke_. This friendly part doth make +My heart to bleede within me, and my minde +Much perplext that I have beene so unkind. +What second funerall march is that I heare? + + _Enter Rainaldo and Alberto, like schollers, grieving + before the Beare, others following them with bodies of + Euphrata and Constantine covered with blacke_. + +_Alberto_. Health to this presence, though the newes +Impairing health I bring unto this presence; +The bodies of the drowned _Constantine_ +And the faire _Euphrata_, behold them both. + +_Duke_. Of drowned _Constantine_ and _Euphrata_! +Declare the manner, and with killing words +Temper thy words, that it may wound my life. + +_Albert_. Passing the _Rhine_, bordering upon the tower, +From whence, it seemes they lately had escapt, +By an unskilfull Guide their gundelet[214] +Encountred with an other, and the shocke +Drown'd both the vessayles, and their haplesse lives. +Their bodies hardly were recoverèd;[215] +But, knowne, we brought them to your excellence +As to a father, that should mourne for them. + +_Duke_. Unto a tyrant, doe not call me father, +For I have beene no father to their lives. +The barbarous Canniball, that never knew +The naturall touch of humane beauty, +Would have beene farre more mercifull then I. +Oh tyrannic, the overthrow of Crownes, +Kingdomes subversion, and the deaths of Kings! +Loe here a piteous object so compleate +With thy intestine and destroying fruite, +That it will strike thee dead! oh _Euphrata_, +Oh princely _Fredericke_, never deare to me +Till now, in you I see my misery. +My sonne, my daughter, vertuous _Constantine_! + +_Hat_. What meanes this griefe, my Lord? these are the traytors +That you in justice sentenced to dye. + +_Alfred_. A trecherous sonne and a rebellious daughter. + +_Valen_. Those that did seeke to take away your life. + +_Mon_. Bereave you of your Crownes prerogative. + +_Duke_. Hence from my sight, blood-thirsty Counsellors! +They never sought my life, but you have sought it. +Vertuous _Alberto_ and _Rinaldo_, +Had I given eare to them and to my sonne, +My joyes had flourished, that now are done. + +_Valen_. Yet for my sake allay this discontent. + +_Duke_. Tis for thy sake, thou vilde notorious woman, +That I have past the limits of a man, +The bonds of nature. +'Twas thy bewitching eye, thy Syrens voice, +That throwes me upon millions of disgrace, +Ile have thee tortur'd on the Racke, +Plucke out those basiliske enchaunting eyes, +Teare thee to death with Pincers burning hot, +Except thou giue me the departed lives +Of my deare childeren. + +_Valen_. What, am I a Goddesse +That I should fetch their flying soules from heaven +And breath them once more in their clay cold bodies? + +_Duke_. Thou art a witch, a damn'd sorceresse, +No goddesse, but the goddesse of blacke hell, +And all those devils thy followers. +What makes thou, on the earth, to murder men? +Will not my sonnes and daughters timelesse[216] lives, +Taken away in prime of their fresh youth, +Serve to suffice thee? + +_Valen_. O, you are mad, my Lord. + +_Duke_. How can I choose, +And such a foule _Erynnis_ gase on me, +Such furious legions circle me about, +And my slaine Sonne and Daughters fire brands +Lying so neere me, to torment my soule? +Extremitie of all extremities: +Take pitty on the wandering sense of mine +Or it will breake the prison of my soule +And like to wild fire fly about the world, +Till they have no abiding in the world. +I faint, I dye, my sorrowes are so great, +Oh mortalitie, renounce thy seate. [_He fals down_. + +_Valen_. The Duke, I feare, is slaine with extreame griefe. +I that had power, to kill him, will assay henceforth +My utmost industry to save his life. +Looke up my Lord, 'tis not _Valentias_ voice, +That Courtezan that hath betray'd thy honour, +Murder'd thy childeren, and almost slaine thee: +I am thy sonne, I am Prince _Fredericke_; +If thou hast any liking for that name, +Looke on my face, I come to comfort thee. + +_Duke_. The name of _Fredericke_ is like Hermes wande +Able to charme and uncharme sorrowfull men. +Who nam'd _Fredericke_? + +_Valen_. I pronounc't his name, +That have the power to give thee thy lost Sonne, +Had I like virtue to restore the other. +Behold my Lord, behold thy headlesse Sonne +Blest with a head, the late deceased living; +As yet not fully waken'd from the sleepe, +My drowsie potion kindled in his braine, +But much about this houre the power should cease; +And see, he wakes. + +_Duke_. O happinesse, tis hee. + +_Valen_. Imbrace him then, but ne're more imbrace me. + +_Fred_. Where am I, in what dungeon, wheres my grave? +Was I not dead, or dreamt I was dead? +This am I sure, that I was poisoned.[217] + +_Duke_. Thou art deceiv'd, my Sonne, but this deceit +Is worth commendations; thanke my Dutchesse, +Her discretion reedified thy life, +But she hath prov'd her selfe a gracious wife. + +_Fred_. She tempt[ed] me to lust; wast in my grave? + +_Valen_. 'Twas but to try thy faith unto thy father: +Let it suffice, his hand was at thy death +But twas my mercie that proclaim'd thy breath. + +_Fred_. To heaven and you, I render worthy thankes. + +_Duke_. O liv'd my _Euphrata_ and _Constantine_, +How gladly would I all my griefe resigne. + +_Albert_. On that condition, and with this besides, +That you be pleas'd to pardon us and them, +We doe referre our persons to your mercie. + +_Duke_. My daughter, my deare sonne in law, +Vertuous _Alberto_? then, my friend, +My joyes are at the highest, make this plaine +How these sav'd drownd, as _Fredericke_ has bin slaine. + +_Albert_. Presuming on the example of these friends, +And know we are all actors in this plot +Boldly presented your presence, with this minde, +If pardoning them your grace would pardon us; +If otherwise, this was the joy of either, +That death's lesse painefull when friends die together. + +_Duke_. We doe receive you all into our favour, +And my faire Dutchesse; my unkind divorce +Shall be confounded with a second marriage, +I here receive thee once more as my wife. + +_Val_. You have your childeren, I have paid that debt, +You have divorc'd me, therefore I am free, +And henceforth I will be at libertie. + +_Duke_. Theres no divorce can part thee from thy Lord. + +_Valen_. Like to unkindnesse there is no divorce, +I will no more be won unto your bed, +But take some course to lament my life mislead. + +_Duke_. Canst thou live better then in sacred wedlock? + +_Valen_. Wedlocke to me is unpleasing, since my Lord +Hath broke the band of marriage with unkindnesse. + +_Duke_. Intreate her, children, _Fredericke, Euphrata_, +Let me not loose the essence of my soule. + +_Fred_. Divine _Valentia_, mirrour of thy sexe, +The pride of true reclaim'd incontinence, +Honour of the dishonoring, yeeld I pray, +And be mercifull, pitty my fathers smart, +Since thy last thraldome hath neare cleft his heart. + +_Euph_. 'Twas for his children that his spleene did rise, +Anger a torture haunting the most wise. + +_Valen_. O no I am a murderesse, an _Erinnis_, +A fury sent from _Limbo_ to affright +Legions of people with my horrid sight. + +_Hat_. What doe you meane? be won by their intreaties. + +_Alfred_. 'Tis madnesse in you to be thus perverse. + +_Val_. Who ever speaks, base wretches, be you dumb; +You are the catterpillers of the state, +By your bad dealings he is unfortunate. +Thou, honorable, true, beloved Lord, +Hearken to me, and by thy antient love, +I charge thee, banish these realme-sucking slaves, +That build their pallace upon poore mens graves. +O those are they that have wrong'd both you and me, +Made this blest land a land of miserie; +And since, by too much loving, your grace hath falne +Into a generall hating of your subjects, +Redeeme your lost estate with better dayes; +So shall you merit never dying praise, +So shall you gaine lives quietnesse on earth, +And after death a new celestiall birth. + +_Duke_. Unto thy wisedome I referre their doomes, +My selfe, my Dukedome, and my crowne. +Oh were there anything of higher rate, +That unto [t]hee I'de wholly consecrate. + +_Val_. This kind surrender shewes you are a Prince, +Worthy to be an Angell in the world +Of immortalitie, +Which these cursed creatures never can attaine. +But that this world may know how much I hate +This cruell, base oppression of the poore, +First, I enjoyne you for the wrongs you have done, +Make restitution; and because your goods +Are not sufficient so to satisfie, +I doe condemn your bodies to the Mynes, +Where live like golden drudges all your lives, +In digging of the mettall you best love: +Death is your due, but for your noble race +This gentle sentence I impose on you: +The Duke succeeding shall behold it done. + +_Duke_. Who's that, my love? + +_Valen_. Kind _Fredericke_, your sonne: +The interest that your grace hath given to me, +I freely doe impart. + +_Duke_. We doe agree, +To what my Dutchesse please. + +_Valen_. The state is thine, +Thy Uncles sentence, _Fredericke_, shall be mine. + +_Fred_. Beare them away, what you have said shall stand, +Whilst I have interest in this new given land. + +_Hat_. We doe receive our judgements, with a curse. + +_Valen_. Learne to pray better, or it shall be worse: +Lords, see those wormes of kingdomes be destroyed. +And now, to give a period to my speeche +I doe intreate your grace, if that your love +Be not growne colde, but that your heart desires +The true societie of a chaste wife, +Be pleas'd to undergoe a further doome. +Wee haue liv'd too lightly, we have spent our dayes, +Which should be dedicated to our God, +In soule destroying pleasure, and our sloth +Hath drawne upon the Realme a world of plagues.[218] +Therefore hereafter let us live together +In some removed cell or hermitage, +Unto the which poore travellers mislead +May have direction and reliefe of wants. + +_Duke_. A hermetary life is better then a kingdome, +So my _Valentia_ beare me company. + +_Valen_. If my dread Lord will for my sake endure +So strickt a calling, my bewitching haires +Shall be made napkins to dry up the teares +That true repentance wringeth from our hearts; +Our sinnes we'l number with a thousand sighes, +Fasting shall be the Steward of our Feast, +Continuall prayer in stead of costly cates, +And the remainder of our life a schoole +To learne new lessons for the land of heaven. +The will, where power is wanting, is good payment; +Grace doth reject no thought, tho' nere so small, +So it be good; our God is kind to all. +Come, my deare Lord, this is a course more kind; +No life like us that have a heavenly mind. + +_Mon_. O let me be a servant in that life. + +_Valen_. With all my heart, a Partner let him be +There's small ambition in humility. + +_Duke_. _Fredericke_, farewell, deare _Euphrata_, adue; +Remember us in prayer, as we will you. + + [_Exeunt D. & D_ + +_Fred_. A happy change: would all that step awry +Would take like course in seeking pietie. + +_Otho_. Two humble suites I crave of my best friend: +First, pardon for my rashnesse in your love, +Next this most loyall Virgin for my wife. + +_Con_. With all my heart, if _Julia_ be pleas'd. + +_Julia_. I have no power to disobey your grant. + +_Con_. Then she is yours. + +_Fred_. _Alberto_, +The offices belonging to our Uncles +We doe derive to you for your good service +In our late warres, and in our sisters love. +And now set forwards: Lords, let us be gone +To solemnize two mariages in one. + + + +_The Epilogue. + +Encouragement unto the valiant +Is like a golden spurre upon the heele +Of a young Knight, like to a wreath of Bay +To a good Poet; like a sparkeling Crowne, +Unto a Kings Son. Honour and renowne +Is the efficient and persevering cause +Of every well deserved action. +Take away some recorde, encouragement, +And the World's like a_ Chaos, _all delight +Buried unborne in everlasting night. +Even so it fares with us, and with the rest +Of the same facultie, all meerely nothing: +Without your favour every labour dyes, +Save such whose second springs comes from your eyes. +Extend your beames of love to us at full, +As the Sunne does unto the Easterne clime, +And England may bring forth like India +As costly spice, as orientall Jems. +The earth's all one, the heate refines the moulde, +And favour makes the poorest ground yielde gold_. + + +FINIS. + + + + + + +INTRODUCTION TO EVERIE WOMAN IN HER HUMOR. + +This old "comical satire" has come down in a very corrupt state. A sadly +tattered appearance is presented by the metrical passages. I have +ventured to patch only a few of the many rents in the old coat of 1609. + +The anonymous playwright owes much more than the title of the play to +Ben Jonson. Acutus, overflowing with bitter and tedious moralising, is +evidently modelled on Macilente in _Every Man Out of His Humour_. The +very dog--Getica's dog--was suggested by Puntarvolo's dog. Indeed, +throughout the play we are constantly reminded of _Every Man Out of His +Humour_; but the unknown writer had some inventiveness of his own, and +was not a mere copyist. The jolly fat host, with his cheery cry "merry +hearts live long," is pleasant company; and his wife, the hard-working +hostess, constantly repining at her lot, yet seemingly not dissatisfied +at heart, has the appearance of being a faithful transcript from life. +Cornutus (the hen-pecked citizen) and his gadding wife are familiar +figures, but not the less welcome on that account. Getica's anxiety at +the loss of her dog is amusingly depicted. In fact, the whole play would +be tolerable, if the moralising were cut out and the text were free from +corruptions. + + + +EVERIE Woman in her Humor. + + +LONDON Printed by E.A. for _Thomas Archer_, and are to be solde at his +shop in the _Popes-head-Pallace_, neere the Royall Exchange. 1609. + + + + +_Everie Woman in her_ + Humor. + + + _Enter Flavia as a Prologue_. + +Gentles of both sexes and all sortes, I am sent to bid yee welcome; I +am but instead of a Prologue, for a she-prologue[219] is as rare as an +Usurers Almes, _non reperitur in usu_; and the rather I come woman +because men are apt to take kindelye any kinde thing at a womans hand; +and wee poore foules are but too kinde if wee be kindely intreated, +marry otherwise, there I make my _Aposiopesis_. The Author hath indeede +made me an honest merrye wench one of his humorists, yet I am so much +beholding to him, I cannot get mee a husband in his play that's worthe +the having, unlesse I be better halfe of the sutor my selfe; and having +imposed this audacity on me, he sends me hither first for exercise. I +come among ye all, these are the Contentes: that you would heare with +patience, judge with lenity, and correct with smiles; for the which our +endeavour[220] shall shew it selfe, like a tall fellow in action; if we +shall joyne hands, a bargaine. + + As a lowely earnest, I give this curtesie before, + And in conceite I give ye twenty more. + + + +[ACT THE FIRST. + +_Scene_ 1.] + + + _Enter Accutus and Graccus_. + +_Gra_. Nay but, _Accutus_, prethee what mis-shapen vizard of Melancholly +hast thou mask't thy selfe in? Thou lookst as thou wer't changing thy +religion; what? is there a breach in thy Faith? come declare, and let me +set thy [my?] wits on worke to amend it. + +_Acut_. Ha, ha, ha! + +_Gra_. Prettie; a man's well advisd to offer good counsell, and be +laught at for his labour: we shall shortly have no counsellors, but +Physitians; I spend my breath to thee, and thou answerest me some half +an houre after in a sem[i]breve, or like to a Sexton, with a Sobeit or +Amen. + +_Acu_. Condemn my Stars then! + +_Grac_. I should wrong am then, as thou dost with a false inditment. I +know it took not beeing at thy birth: thou hast been merrie, thou hast +sounded hoopes, swallowed whiffes, walkt late, worn favours, seene +whoresons; thou canst feele and understand, come thou hast bene a +sinner, unloade, discharge, untune, confesse, is _Venus_ dominatrix? art +not in love? + +_Acut_. Yes, I love God and my neighbors. + +_Grac_. Then either for God's sake or thy Neighbors, or both, be smothe, +and participate; ist not some underlayer, some she Cammell, that will +beare as much of her belly as three beastes on their backes? some +Lanthorne-maker? Ile holde thy head; come, up with't! + +_Acut_. Prethee, I hate none, but heaven hate me if I be in love with +any. + +_Grac_. Off with these clogs; then break prison and get out of this +melancholly Gaole. Harke how the generall noise doth welcome from the +_Parthian_ wars; each spirit's jocund, fraught with glee, then wrong not +thine with this dull meditation. + +_Accut_. Oh! how doe they then wrong my meditation! my thoughts are with +themselues at a counsell; til with noise, and thou with continuall +talke, hast driven them to a _nonplus_. + +_Gra_. Then make me of thy counsell, and take my advice, for ile take no +denyall; Ile not leave thee til the next new Almanackes be out of date; +let him threaten the sharpest weather he can in Saint _Swithin_ week, or +it snow on our Ladies face, ile not budge, ile be thy mid-wife til thou +beest delivered of this passion. + +_Accut_. Partake then, and give me the beleefe; thinkst thou or knowst +thou any of this opinion, that that mooving marish element, that swels +and swages as it please the Moone, to be in bignes equall to that solid +lump that brings us up? + +_Gra_. I was sure that thou wer't beyond the _Antipodes_; faith, I am of +that faith I was brought up in, I have heard my Father say, and i'me +sure, his Recordes came from his Father, that Land and Sea are in nature +thus much alike; the owne [_sic_] growes by the Sunne, the other by the +Moone, both by God's blessing, and the Sea rather the greater; and so +thinke I. + +_Acut_. Good; there we have a farther scope, and holde the sea can (as a +looking glasse) answer with a meere simile[221] any mooving shape uppon +the earth. + +_Gra_. Nay, that's most certaine, I have heard of Sea-horses, +Sea-calves, and Sea-monsters. + +_Acut_. Oh, they are monstrous, madde, merrie, wenches, and they are +monsters. + +_Grac_.[222] They call them Sea-maides, or Mermaides, singing sweetelye, +but none dares trust them; and are verie like our Land-wenches, +devouring Serpents, from the middle downeward. + +_Acut_. Thou hast even given me satisfaction, but hast thou this by +proofe? + +_Grac_. Not by my travels (so God helpe me): marrie, ile bring ye fortie +Saylers, will sweare they have seene them. + +_Acut_. In truth! + +_Grac_. In truth or otherwise. + +_Acut_. Faith they are not unlike our land-monsters, else why should +this _Maximilian_ Lord, for whom these shoots [_sic_] and noises befits +thus, forsake his honours to sing a Lullabye? +These seeming Saints, alluring evils, +That make earth _Erebus_, and mortals devils-- + +_Gra_. Come, thou art Sea-sicke, and will not be well at ease, til thou +hast tane a vomit: up with 't. + +_Acu_. Why, ifaith, I must; I can not soothe the World +With velvet words and oyly flatteries, +And kiss the sweatie feet of magnitude +To purchace smiles or a deade mans office; +I cannot holde to see a rib of man, +A moytie of it selfe, commaund the whole; +Bafful and bend to muliebritie. +O[223] female scandal! observe, doe but observe: +Heere one walks ore-growne with weeds of pride, +The earth wants shape to apply a simile, +A body prisoned up with walles of wyer, +With bones of whales; somewhat allyed to fish, +But from the wast declining, more loose doth hang +Then her wanton dangling lascivious locke +Thats whirld and blowne with everie lustfull breath; +Her necke in chaines, all naked lyes her brest, +Her body lighter than the feathered Crest. +Another powtes, and scoules, and hangs the lip, +Even as the banckrout[224] credit of her husband +Cannot equal her with honors liverie. +What does she care if, for to deck her brave, +Hee's carryed from the Gate-house to his grave! +Another in a rayling pulppet key, +Drawes through her nose the accent of her voice, +And in the presence of her good-man Goate +Cries 'fye, now fye, uppon these wicked men +That use such beastly and inhumane talke,' +When being in private all her studies warne +To make him enter into _Capricorn_. +Another as she goes treads a _Canarie_[225] pace, +Jets it so fine and minces so demure +As mistris Bride upon her marriage day; +Her heels are Corke, her body Atlas, +Her Beautie bought, her soule an Atomus. +Another, with a spleene-devoured face, +Her eies as hollow as Anatomy,[226] +Her tung more venome then a Serpents sting, +Which when it wagges within her chap-faln jawes +Is noise more horrid then a cry of hounds +With open mouths pursuing of their game. +Wants she but ritch attire or costly dyet, +With her the Devill can nere live in quiet. +Yet these are weaker vessels, heaven doth knowe; +Lay on them ought but ease, you doe them wrong; +They are as weake as water and indeede as strong, +And then, like mightie ships when pellets sincke, +To them lay more men, sheele never shrinke. + + [_Enter[227] Getica and Boss, with a dog_.] + +_Boss_. Mistris, that face wants a fresh Glosse. + +_Gent_. Prethee, dib it in well, _Bos_. + +_Acut_. _Pigmaleon, Pigmaleon_, I coniure thee appeare; to worke, to +worke, make more Marble Ingles. Nature thou art a foole, Art is above +thee; _Belzebub_, paint thy face there's some will love thee. + +_Boss_. Rare, Mistris, heeres a cheeke like a Camelion or a blasing +Star, you shall heere me blaze it; heere's two saucers sanguine in a +sable field pomegranet, a pure pendat ready to drop out of the stable, a +pin and web argent in hayre de Roy. + +_Grac_. And a fooles head in the Crest. + +_Bos_. In the Crest? oh sweete Vermilion mistris, tis pittie the +Vermilion Wormes shoulde eate thee, ile set it with pretious stones and +ye will. + +_Gent_. Enough, sweete _Bosse_, throwe a little water to spurt's face +and lets away. + +_Bo_. Hold up; so, sir, now away. Oh Mistris, your scantling, most +sweete mistriss, most derydent starre. + +_Acut_. Then most rydent starre, faire fall ye. + +_Grac_. Nay tis the Moone her self, for there's her man and her Dogge +before. + +_Bosse_. I, sir, but the man is not in the moone, and my bush is before +me, _ergo_, not at my backe, _et ergo_, not moone sir. + +_Gent_. What's your will sir? + +_Acut_. That you would leave us. + +_Boss_. Leave you! zounds, sir! we scorne their companies, come they are +still, doe not open to them, we have no Conies to catch. + + [_Exeunt[228] Getica and Boss, with the dog_. + +_Acut_. Away, keepe no distance, even both together, +for wit ye may be Coacht together. +What sleeke-browde Saint can see this Idiotisme, +The shape and workmanship of omnipotency +To be so blinde with drugs of beastlinesse, +That will not bend the browe and bite the lippe, +Trouble his quiet soule with venome spleene +And feare least the all over-seeer +Can without vengeance see these ignomies? + +_Grac_. Why, therfore are they belooved like Sargeants +and entertained like Beggers; +Think'st thou but any honorable Gate, +But will be shut against these Butterflies? + +_Acut_. Oh _Graccus_! thou beguil'st opinion: +The Gates of great men stand more wide +To entertaine a foole then _Cresus_ armes +To hug the Golden God; and faster bard +Against necessitie then _Dives_ entrance +At _Olympus_ gate. + + _Enter Servulus,[229] Scillicet, Philautus and boy_. + +_Servu_.[230] Fa, la, sol, lasol; Boy, a Glasse. + +_Boy_. Tis but one and all, sir. + +_Acut_. Angels protect us, what have we heare? + +_Boy_. Ye haue a good memorie, Sir, for they are five minutes ere +windefall of your Glasse. + +_Ser_. Sir, be credible, tis ballanst to be superlative politicke +custome in these houres to dwell in shallowe accoutrements, as a defence +for the abilitie of his pursse from the infringed Oath of some impudent +face, that will borrowe a gentlemans revenewes if he be vestally adornd: +Ile tell you sir by this bright Horrison-- + +_Scil_. A word, I pray yee, sir, ere ye go any further: Boy, my Tables. + +_Boy_. Your Tables are ready, Sir, and all the men ye keep which is +indeede halfe a Boy, _Scillicet Videlicet_. + +_Scil_. I pray ye let me request that oath of you. + +_Serv_. A graceful enquirie, and well observ'd: Sir, my company shall +make ye copious of novelties, let your Tables befriend your memorie: +write, 'by this bright Horrison.' + +_Phy_. 'Here's[231] none but only I' [_sing_]; Boy, how likest thou my +head of hayre? + +_Boy_. Your Glasse may flatter ye, but truely I will not; your head is +not a hayre better than it should be. + +_Phy_. Is there any scarcitie of haire, Boy? + +_Boy_. Somewhat thin and yet there is more hayre than wit.[232] + +_Phy_. How, Boy? + +_Boy_. Then wit of man can number sir, take it i'th right sence, +I pray yee. + +_Phy_. Most ingenious! + +_Acu_. O muffle muffle, good _Graccus_, do not taint thy sence +With sight of these infectious animalles, +'Less[233] reason in thee have the upper hand +To governe sence, to see and shun the sight. +Here's new discovered sins, past all the rest; +Men strive to practice how to sweare the best.' + +_Scil_. I have quoted it, sir; by this bright Hore, Horeson, pronounce +ye, sir? + +_Serv_. Horison! + +_Scil_. Horison:--the Widowes mite, sir. + +_Serv_. Not for the Soldans crown, sir. + +_Scil_. Indeede yee shall, by this bright horison ye shall; beleeve me, +if I sweare, I think myself beholding for I know it to be no common +oath. + +_Serv_. Were it common it past not these doores; Sir, I shift my oathes, +as I wash my hands, twice in the artificial day; for in dialoguising, +tis to be observ'd, your sentences, must ironically, metaphorically, and +altogether figuratively, [be] mixt with your morning oathes. + +_Scil_. Faith, tis verie true. + +_Accu_. That he neither knowes what he saies nor thou understandest. + +_Serv_. As for example, by this illuminate welkin. + +_Scil_. Oh excellent! it shall be downe to. + +_Accut_. There's another Ducket. He utters his oathes apace. +Sure this Villaine has no soule, and for gold +Heele damn his body too, hee's at peace with hell +And brings his Merchandise from thence to sell. + +_Boy_. I have heere two Mistresses, but if the best were chosen out, if +_Poliphemus_ tother eye were out his choice might be as good as _Argus_ +broade waking, so difficult is the difference. + +_Phy_. Boy, sleepe wayward thoughts? + +_Boy_. Sir. + +_Phy_. Is it not now most amyable and faire? + +_Boy_. Yes sir, God be praised. + +_Phy_. What meanst thou, Boy? + +_Boy_. The weather, sir. + +_Phy_. I meane my haire and face, Boy. + +_Boy_. Twere amiable if it would not alter. + +_Phy_. Wherfore I often repaire it. + +_Boy_. Me thinkes that should weare it the sooner. + +_Phy_. Not so Boy, for to trimme the Hayer well is a rare qualitie; to +bee rarelye quallified is to be wise; apply, Boy. + +_Boy_. That you are wise in trimming your hayre, Maister? + +_Phy_. Right, to be wise is to be rare, for it is rare to see a wise +man. + +_Boy_. True, Maister, but if youle see a foole, looke in your Glasse, +maister! + +_Phy_. Goe to, I must correct you, Boy. + +_Boy_. You can correct no more then is your own; I am but halfe yours to +commaund, if you steale away any parte that is not your owne you are so +farre in daunger as the striking of an other mans servant. + +_Scil_.[234] By this illuminate welkin! most sincere and singular: as a +small remembrance. + +_Serv_. Not for to winne the faire _Angelica_. + +_Scillicet_. By this illuminate Welkin ye shall now.[235] Sir, I doe not +bestowe it, for that I thinke you have neede of it; for if you had, by +this bright Horizon, I would not give it, for I know tis no credit to +give to the poore. By this illuminate welkin I have (since I tooke upon +me this fleshie desire of a Gentleman) throwne out of a window, for a +hunts-up, when I had as leef have heard the grinding of a Mustard-Mill; +for those are thinges are heere too day, and gone to morrowe; this will +sticke by a man, and doe him credit where ere hee goes. + +_Acut_. I, when the foole is clad in clay, +It will sticke sore unto thy soule for aye. + +_Phy_. Signior _Scillicet_, I assure you I have discovered the most +queint and new-found device for the encounter of the Ladies at the +interview; tis in pricke-song. + +_Scil_. That's excellent and rare. + +_Phi_. I, for prick-song to Ladies is most pleasant and delightfull: as +thus for your congie, All hayle to my belooved; then for your departure, +sad dispaire doth drive me hence: for all must be to effect. + +_Grac_. Nay, prethee raise no quarrels. + +_Acut_. I can holde no longer: heare you, sir, are not you a foole? and +you an Asse? and you a knave? + +_Phy_. Zoundes! an Asse? + +_Scil_. A Foole? + +_Ser_. A Knave, without respect? + +_Acut_. I, for an Asse can beare, a Foole abide, and a Knave deserve. + +_Omn_. Helpe, Helpe! + +_Gra_. Prethee let's away. + +_Acut_. Fooles often brings wise men to trouble, +Farewell, another time ile pay ye double. + [_Exit_. + + _Enter Host, Hostesse, and Prentises_. + +_Host_. Bring your Clubs out of doores. There goe in, my fine hostes, +Ile talke to the proudest; what, knaves are i'th streete, my dore is my +dore, my house is my castell, goe in dame _Helena_, let thine Host alon +with this; he that knocks at my hobby, while I have Ale in my house, +shall pay for a Surgeon: the honest shall come in, the knaves shall go +by; bring Clubs, I say. + +_Scil_. Nay, sir, the heate is past, they that did it have tooke them to +their heeles, for indeed heere are of us-- + +_Host_. Away with your Clubs then; welcome, my brave Bullies, my Guests +shall take no wrong; but welcome, my Bullies. + +_Scil_. Indeede sir, I am a man of few words, I have put up a little +bloodshed; marrie, I hope it shall be no stain to my manhoode, if I +keepe it out of my clothes. + +_Host_. He shall pay for the blood-shed, my guestes shall take no wrong; +mine Host will spend his Cruse as franke as an Emperor; welcome, my +brave bullies. + +_Ser_. Sir, be pacificall, the fellowe was possest with some critique +frenzie, and wee impute it to his madnes. + +_Scil_. Madde! by Gods slid, if he were as madde as a weaver, I can +hardly put it up; for my blow, I care not so much, but he cald me foole; +slid, if I live till I dye, the one of us shall prove it. + +_Host_. Some prophane Villaine, ile warrant him. + +_Scil_. Doe you thinke I may not have an action against him? + +_Host_. There's so many swaggerers; but alasse, how fel ye out? + +_Scil_. By the welkin, I gave him not a foule word; first he calles me +foole, then he makes a full blowe at my body, and if, by good chance, I +had not warded it with my head, he might have spoild me. + + _Enter Prentices_. + +_Host_. There, there my fine fil-pots; give the word as you passe; anon, +anon, sir anon; heere and there in the twinckling, looke well at the +barre, there again my little Mercuries, froath them up to the brimme, +and fill as tis needeful; if their Pates be full of Wine let your +Pottles be three quarters; trip and goe, here and there; now, my brave +Lad, wash thy woundes with good Wine; bidde am welcom, my little Sybil; +put sugar in his hole there, I must in to my guests; sleepe soundly till +morning; Canarie is a Jewell, and a Figge for Browne-bastard.[236] + [_Exit_. + +_Hostes_. Gentlemen, ye are welcom, though my husband be a little +talkative, yet truly he is an unreasonable honest man, yee shall finde +his words and his sayings all one. + +_Scil_. I thinke no less, yet I would desire to enter as time and place +shall serve. + +_Hostes_. Ile lead the way forsooth. + +_Phy_. Nay, pray ye, Hostesse, a word. I say little, but i'me sure I +have sustained the most wrong; by this light, I had rather he had broke +my head in three places; I pray you lend me a brush, hee has put my hat +quite out of fashion. + +_Host_. That shall ye sir, a brush there, hoe! + + _Enter[237] Boss, with the dog_. + +_Bos_. _Salve, sis salvus_. I pray yee which of you five is Hostis of +this house? + +_Boy_. That's easily discernd, for foure weare breeches. + +_Bos_. Nere the sooner for that, my diminitive youth, for women now +adaies weare breeches as well as men; mary, the difference lies in the +bawble. + +_Hostis_. Well, sir, to open the truth, I am the Hostesse. + +_Bos_. The fruit is known, by the Tree at the first view, as the Author +writes, learnedly; come _basilus manus_.[238] + +_Scil_. This kissing becomes a Gentleman, ile use it sure.[239] + +_Bos_. Secondly, Mistris Hostesse, I would know what lodging ye have for +my Lady and her traine. + +_Hostis_. What will serve your turne, sir? + +_Bos_. Ile call my selfe to account and specifie thus: my Lady and her +Dogge, that's two visible; then there's the Dogge and my Lady, thats +four invisible; then there's my Ladies dogge and I, quoth the dogge, +that's six; then theres sequence of three, viz., the Dogge, and I, and +my Lady; then there's a pair of Knaves, viz., the Dogge & my selfe & my +Lady turnd up; viz., my Lady sequence of three, a paire of Knaves and my +Lady, turn'd up to play upon:--we can have no less than five beds. + +_Hostis_. Truely you must lye close together (the Servants I meane), for +I am so thrust with Guest I [c]an hardly spare so many. + +_Bos_. Faith, weele lie together as close as we can; there's my Lady and +her dogge lye al together and I at the bed's feete, and theres all our +family of Love.[240] + +_Hostis_. How farre is your mistris behinde? + +_Bos_. The truth is the fatall sisters have cut the thred of her +Cork-shoe, & shee's stept aside in to a Coblers shop to take a true +stitch, whether I mean to send myself as a Court of Guard to conduct +her, but see, oh inconstant fortune! see where she comes, _solus_. + + _Enter[241] Getica_. + +_Gent_. _Bos_, you serve me well, to let me wait upon my selfe. + +_Bos_. Of two evils, the least is to be chosen, I had a care of your +puppie being less then your selfe. + +_Scil_. Gentlewoman, you have an excellent Ch: [sic] I have an appetite +as a man would say. + +_Gent_. Whats your will, sir? + +_Scil_. Truth will to light, and the truth is I have an appetite to +kisse you. + +_Phil_. This point would become a Gentleman, sure; I pray, who trim'd it +so? + +_Gent_. My man, forsooth. + +_Phy_. Sir, I desire your acquaintance; tis excellent, rare. + +_Gent_. You would have said so, had you seene it an houre since. + +_Ser_. Heeres game for me! I hunt for fooles and have sprung a covey. + +_Hostis_. Gentles, please you, draw neere? lead the way into the +chambers. + +_Bos_. _Bos_ is the name of a thing may be seene, felt, heard, or +understood, and the nominative case goes before my Mistris the Verbe; my +mistris requires an accusative case to follow, as _usus feminae proptus +facit_. + [_Exeunt al but Hostis_. + +_Hostis_. Oh fye upont, who would be an hostis, & could do otherwise? +[A] Ladie [h]as the most lascivious life, conges and kisses, the tyre, +the hood, the rebato, the loose bodyed Gowne, the pin in the haire, and +everie day change, when an Hostis must come and go at everye mans +pleasure. And what's a Lady more then another body? Wee have legs, and +hands, rowling eyes and hanging lips, sleek browes, and cherie cheeks & +other things as Ladies have, but the fashion carries it away. + + _Prentices passe over_. [_Re-enter[242] Host_.] + +_Host_. There, there, my little Lacky boies, againe, again, my fine +fil-pots! where is my fine Hostis? come, come, my little _Dido_, set +your corks on a creaking, my knaves are unthrifty; dance not your +Canaries heere up & down, looke about to my Guests I say. + +_Hostis_. I, I have much joy, an Hostesse! + +_Host_. What, abides my _Penelope_? heere stand[s] thy _Ulisses_, +ile tarry with thee still, thou shall want for no cost. Ile buy thee +a brave wistle; looke about to my Guestes, I say. + +_Hostis_. I, Hostesses will bee knowne shortelye as their Signes; still +in one weather-beaten suite, as though none weare hoodes but Monkes and +Ladies, and feathers but fore-horses and Waiting Gentlewomen, or chaines +but prisoners and Courtiers; no Perywigges but Players and Pictures: but +the weakest must to the wall still. + +_Host_. Tush, tush, these are toies; ile none of these Flipflaps, ile +have no soping, no puffs, nor no Cobwebs, no busks, nor bumbarrels;[243] +thou shalt weare thine own haire & fine cloath of Sheep-skins, thy +colour shall be Dowlas as white as a Lillie, ile kisse these +chop-cheries; thou shalt goe Gossip at Shrovetide; look about to my +Guests then. [_Exit_. + +_Hostis_. I, twas my hard fortune to be an Hostesse; time was I might +have done other wise. + + _Enter Cittizens Wife_. + +_City W_. Why how now, woman, a'th olde disease still? will it never be +better? cannot a Woman finde one kinde man amongst twentie? Ah the daies +I have seen, when a Womans will was a lawe: If I had a mind to such a +thing, or such a thing, I could have had it, but twa's never better +since men were Purse-bearers. + +_Hosty_. Mine is een the unnaturallist man to his Wife. + +_Citie wi_. Truely, and commonly are all such fat men: ile tell thee, +Gossip, I have buried sixe, I, sixe husbands, but if I should live to +have as many more, as I know not what may happen, but sure Ide never +have such a fatte man: they be the most unweldey men; that woman[244] +shall not want a sore stomack, that's troubled with them I warrant her. + +_Hosty_. And hee maintaines me heare like I knowe not what. + +_City wi_. I, and what say, they are their wives head; well if he be the +head, shee's the body, and the body is to beare the head, and the body +is to beare the pursse. + +_Hostis_. They cannot misse us, yet they regard us not. + +_Citty wife_. Misse us! no faith, but would all women were of my minde, +they call us weaker vessels, they should finde vessels of us, but no +weake vessels, I warrant them. + + _Enter[245] Prentice_. + +_Pren_. Mistris, my Maister cals for ye. + +_Hostis_. Goe, ile come anon, hees not so hastie to give me what I want, +I warrant ye. + + [_Exit[245] Prentice_. + +_City w_. No, would he were; little thinkes the husband what goes +through the wives hand, washing, wringing, and rubbing, up early, down +late, & a thousand things they looke not too. + +_Hostis_. And yet they must have the government of all. + +_City w_. And great reason they have for it, but a wise man will put in +a Woman's hand: what sheele save that hee spends. + +_Hostis_. You have a pretty Ruffe, how deepe is it? + +_City w_. Nay, this is but shallowe, marrie I have a Ruffe is a quarter +deepe, measured by the yard. + +_Hostis_. Indeede, by the yard. + +_City w_. By the standard: you have a pretty set too, how big is the +steele you set it with? + +_Hostis_. As bigge as a reasonable sufficient-- + + _Enter Prentice_. + +_Pren_. Mistris, my Maister would desire you to come in. + +_Citty w_. What? she shall not come yet: if you lay down the bucklers, +you lose the victorie. + +_Hostis_. By my troth, I must goe, we shall have such a coyle else. + +_Cittie w_. A coyle! why, have you not a tongue in your head? faith if +ye win not all at that weapon, yee are not worthy to be a woman. You +heare not the news abroade? + +_Hostis_. No: what newes? + +_City W_. No, I warrant ye, you never come abroad; this is to be +troubled with a fatte man, he never comes abroad himself nor suffers his +wife out of his sight: yee shall ever have a fatte Host either on his +bench at the dore or in his chair at the chimney; & there he spits and +spaules a roome like twentie Tobacco-takers. Oh! fye on them, beasts! + +_Hostis_. I prethee, what newes? + +_Citty w_. Oh! woman, the most hardfavoured newes, and without all +conscience: they say theres a statute made, any woman that buries her +husband is not to marrie againe of two monthes after. + +_Hostis_. A tedious time, by Lady; a month were enough. + +_Cittie w_. I, halfe a month; winter nights are long and colde. Ile tell +ye, I have buried sixe, and thank my good fortune I ever knewe the next +ere the other was in his winding sheete. + +_Pre_. Mistris, my maister is angrie, and the Guests cal for their +Hostesse. + +_Hostis_. Goe, I come: Gossip, when shall I see you agen? + +_Citty w_. Nay, when shall I see you abroad? sildome, i'me sure. + +_Hostis_. I must needes away; God buy you, Gossip. + +_Cittie w_. God buy ye; Gods so, I have forgot wherefore I came: a word +ere you goe, the party yee wott on commends him unto ye, he that met the +other party in the white felt, the yellow scarf, and the round +_Venetian_,[246] when the other party kis't you, and I broake the jest +on him, when hee said kisses kindeles Coules and love searches. + +_Hostis_. Oh! I remember him, yes faith, hee's prettie well set; hee +ha's the right trick with the tongue in his kisse, and hee dances +reasonably comely, but he fals heavie. + +_Citty w_. He savours of a kinde of Gallant, but not of a Courtyer. + +_Hostis_. Well weele have a night out, god be with ye, Gossip. + +_Cittie wife_. God buy ye. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +[ACT THE SECOND. + +_Scene 1_.] + + + _Enter Lentulus and Tulley_. + +_Lentu_. Not yours nor her owne, _Terentia_.--Yours in modestie, _Flavia_. +See, _Tulley_, what an active passive love hath plaide; +I love and am again beloved, but at the shrine +Where I do offer up my Cordiall sacrifice, +I am returnd with peremptorie scorne; +And where I stand but as a gazer, viewing +All alike, I am pursude +With violent passions, a speaking eye +Bindes favours and now discovering lines.[247] +Thy counsell now, deere friend; for at thy direction +Stands my thrall or freedome. + +_Tul_. Oh my Lord, affection is unlimited, +Daring all dangers, having no tipe nor figure, +Beyond all arte. +Then tye not that (Great Lord,) to _Tullies_ awe; +Fancy forswears all reason, love all lawe. + +_Lent_. How well thy power can shun that which +I followe with obedience. Too true yfaith; +Thou mightst as well put out the eie of day, +Or cover sinne from heaven, or to erect +A towre of sand on the uncertain surge, +Or any thing that were more inficient, +Then to remoove one doting thought of mine +From her disdain. Thy aide, deere _Tulley_, +Be thou an Orratour for _Lentulus_, +My tongue stands tun[è]d to a harsher method; +Breath in her eares, those Organs of receite, +A quintessence distild of honny words, +And charme with a beguiling lullabye +Her free consent to thine and my request: +Which done, thats done which is my sole delight, +Which done, thats done that I can never quite. + +_Tull_. All which to me are problematique mines, +Obscurde inigmaes, and to my studies +Incognite Language; yet, if my powers +Have power to cloath my tongue in love, +Ile be a Lover and in love so pleade +As if that _Tully_ loved _Terentia_. + +_Lent_. Thanks, sweete _Cicero_; +This day we dine with olde _Flaminius_, +The forward Father of my Aukeward love. +His willing minde doth strive to make the peace +Betwixt our discord thoughts; his free consent +Is given to _Lentulus_; there, _Tulley_, take on holde, +And, when a Sunne of thy intent shines fayre, +Onset loves fort with polliticke assaults +And conquer; conquest in obtaining that +Where victors are repulsed. But see! our talke +Hath over-tane our way; see, olde _Flaminius_ +Comes to welcome us. +With him a looke like[248] the bright orient verge +At the uprising of _Auroraes_ shine. + + _Enter Flaminius, Terentia, and Flavia_. + +_Flam_. And, my good Lorde, y'are happily met. Heartily welcome; young +_Tullie_, welcome to; yee come wel to ease my charge, these Ladies find +fault with their Guardian, I goe too softly for them: old blood is +stiffe, & young Ladies will not beare with age; I resigne, I resigne, to +you that followe. + +_Lent_. If they admit us for their Guardian, +Weele dare dangers ere we part from them. + +_Flam_. Why well saide, my Lords, Soldiers will not flye indeede; I have +seene the day, I could have crackt a tree of yew, made my bowstring +whisper in mine eare in[249] the twang, tost my pike lustilye. Tis since +the siedge of _Parthia_: bith-'mas a great while; I was lustie then at +the service was done there, yet I love the discourse. Come my Lord, I +chuse your companye, leave _Tulley_ to the Ladies; he can tell them +tales of _Venus_ and _Adonis_ and that best pleaseth them. Now I must +heere of raps and blowes, and Bils and Guns, and swords and bucklers. I +loved it once; come, our Cookes are backeward, discourse will beget +stomacks; y'are like to tarrie long for leane Cates. [_Exit_. + +_Lent_. Now, gentle _Tulley_, advocate my suite; +Her fore-amazing person makes me mute. + +_Cicero_. He beare these Ladies company if they +Shall deeme acceptance. [_Exit_. + +_Teren_. With interest of thankes to Cicero. + +_Flav_. Faith, I like not this ods of female, an equallitie were better: +yet of both twere fitter the woman should undergoe the oddes. I had +rather a said three men to one woman, then two women to one man. Heeres +_Tulley_ addrest to _Terentia, Terentia_ drawing neere to _Tulley_; +her's smal comfot [_sic_] left for _Flavia_. Wel, gentles, ile leave ye +to the Goddesse. So ho! my Lords, take me with ye. + +_Teren_. Nay stay, good _Flavia_. Youle not loose the sight of +_Lentulus_. + +_Fla_. Nor you of _Tulley_; come, if you tel, ile blab. + +_Cice_. But, sweete Lady, _Tulley_ is not heere. + +_Fla_. But _Cicero_ is, his neere friend, thats as good. + +_Cice_. He was, Lady, till hee changed his habit by putting on the +office of an unskillful Servingman, intending to garde _Terentia_ to her +father's house. + +_Fla_. Then _Flavia_ must gard her self; wel use good words and good +action, and stalke well before your Ladie; she's kinde, yfaith, and a +little thing will please her. + +_Ter_. Will it please _Flavia_ to partake? + +_Fla_. Oh fye! twere an injurie I could [not] brook myself, therefore +ile leave ye; but be breefe, stand not on pointes, cut them all first; & +if ye fall to kissing, kisse not too long for feare ye kisse the post. + +_Teren_. Goe to, youle still be a wagge, _Flavia_. +But what saies _Tulley_ to _Terentia_? + + [_Exit_[250] _Flavia_. + +_Cicero_. Lady I must maintain my former argument. +_Tullie's_ not heere but heere is _Tullies_ friend; +For, ere I speake, I must intreate you wil +Transforme poore _Tulley_ into _Lentulus_. + +_Teren_. I have no power of Metamorphosing; +If _Tulley_ be not heere, you must concede,[251] +I cannot make of _Tulley Lentulus_. + +_Cice_. Nor can the world make _Cicero_ so worthy. +Yet for an houre['s] discourse a Pesant's shape +May represent the person of a king; +Then in the person of the great _Lentulus_ +I doe salute Sunne-bright _Terentia_. +Lady, vouchsafe a Saint-like smile on him +(From that angell forme) whose honord minde +Lies prostrate lowly at _Terentia's_ feete; +Who hath put off a Golden victors honour +And left the _Parthyan_ spoyle to _Lepido_; +Whome many Ladies have bedecked with favours +Of rich esteeme, oh proud he deignd to weare them, +Yet guiftes and givers hee did slight esteeme; +For why? the purpose of his thoughts were bent +To seek the love of faire _Terentia_. +The cho[i]ce is such as choiser cannot bee +Even with a nimble eye; his vertues through +His smile is like the Meridian Sol +Discern'd a dauncing in the burbling brook; +His frowne out-dares the Austerest face +Of warre or Tyranny to sease upon; +His shape might force the Virgine huntresse +With him for ever live a vestall life; +His minde is virtues over-matcht, yet this +And more shall dye if this and more want force +To win the love of faire _Terentia_. +Then, gentle Lady, give a gentle do[o]me; +Never was brest the Land-lord to a heart +More loving, faithful, or more loyall then is +The brest of noble-- + +_Teren_. _Tullie_! + +_Tul_. _Lentulus_! + +_Ter_. And why not _Tullie_? + +_Tul_. It stands not aptly. + +_Tere_. I wants a sillible. + +_Tul_. It doth. + +_Tere_. Then noble _Cicero_. + +_Tul_. Thats too deere. + +_Tere_. Gentle is as good: +Then say the best of gentle _Cicero_. + +_Tul_. Good Lady, wrong not your honour so +To seate unworthy _Tully_ with your worth. +Oh looke upon the worth of _Lentulus_, +Let your faire hand be beame unto the ballance +And with a stedded peyze lift up that beame. +In th'one[252] scale put the worth of _Lentulus_, +His state, his honors, and his revenewes; +Against that heavy waite put povertie, +The poore and naked name of _Cicero_, +A partner of unregarded Orators; +Then shall you see with what celeritie +One title of his worth will soone pull up +Poore _Tullies_ dignitie. + +_Tere_. Just to the height of _Terentias_ heart +Where I will keepe and Character that name, +And to that name my heart shall adde that love +That shall wey downe the worth of _Lentulus_. + +_Tul_. Deare Madam. + +_Tere_. Speake still, if thou wilt, but not for him; +The more thou speak'st the more augments my love, +If that thou can'st adde more to infinite; +The more thou speakest the more decreaseth his, +If thou canst take away ought from nothing; +Thinke, _Tulley_, if _Lentulus_ can love me, +So much and more _Terentia_ doth love thee. + +_Tull_. Oh Madam, +_Tulley_ is poore, and poore is counted base. + +_Ter_. Vertue is ritch and blots a poore disgrace. + +_Tul_. _Lentulus_ is great, his frowne's my woe, +And of a friend he will become my foe. + +_Ter_. As he is friend, we will intreate his love; +As he is great, his threatenings shall not make me love. + +_Tul_. Your fathers graunt makes _Lentulus_ your Lord. + +_Teren_. But if thereto his daughter not accord, +That graunt is cancel'd; fathers may commaund +Life before love, for life to true love's paund. + +_Tul_. How will _Flaminius_ brooke my povertie? + +_Ter_. Well, when _Flaminius_ see's no remedie. +Lord how woman-like are men when they are woe'd! +_Tully_, weigh me not light, nere did immodest blush +Colour these cheeckes, but ardent. + +_Tully_. Silence, sweet Lady, heere comes _Flavia_. + + _Enter_[253] _Flavia_. + +_Fla_. Fie, Fie, how tedius ye are; yonders great looking for _Tulley_, +the old senate has put on his spectacles, and _Lentulus_ and he are +turning the leaves of a dog-hay [?], leaves of a worm-eaten Chronicle, +and they want _Tullies_ judgment. + +_Tul_. About what, sweet Lady? + +_Fla_. To know what yeare it was the showers of raine fell in Aprill. + +_Tul_. I can resolve it by rote, Lady, twas that yeare the Cuckoo sung +in May: another token Lady; there raigned in Rome a great Tyrant that +yeare, and many Maides lost their heads for using flesh on Fish-daies. + +_Fla_. And some were sacrificed as a burnt offering to the Gods of +Hospitallitie, were they not? + +_Tul_. Y'are a wag, _Flavia_, but talk and you must needes have a +parting blowe. + +_Flav_. No matter so we stand out and close not. + +_Tull_. Or part faire at the close and too't again. + +_Flav_. Nay, if we should too't againe, _Terentia_ would growe jealous. + +_Tul_. Ladies, I take my leave +And my love. + +_Ter_. Take heede ye sigh not, nor looke red at the table, _Tully_. + + [_Exit [Tully]_. + +_Flav_. Your shoe wrings you, Lady. + +_Ter_. Goe to, ye are a wanton, _Flavia_. + +_Fla_. How now _Terentia_, in your nine Muses? +Theres none must pleade in your case but an Orator. + +_Ter_. I want one indeede Wench, but thou hast two, and the gentle +destinies may send thee three; neere blush, for smoke and the fire of +a womans love cannot bee hid. Oh a fine tongue dipt in _Helicon_! a +comedian tongue is the onely perswasive ornament to win a Lady; why his +discourse is as pleasant-- + +_Fla_. As how, I prethee? + +_Ter_. And keepes as good decorum; his prologue with obedience to the +skirt; a rough Sceane of ciuill Warres and a clapping conclusion; +perhappes a Jigge;[254] if not, the Tragicomicall tale of _Mars_ and +_Venus_; then must she take the Tale by the end, where he defending +_Mars_, & she _Venus_, must fall from billing to byting, from byting to +blowes, to get the supremacie. + +_Fla_. A good policie to praise _Cicero_, +For feare I rob you of your _Lentulus_. + +_Ter_. Faith, a Souldier is not for thy[255] humor; now I crie a +Warrier; he fights stoutly in a field-bed, discharges his work sure, +under his Curtaines would I fight. But come, our Lovers melt while we +meditate; thou for thy Scholler, I for my soldier; and if we can not +please them so, weele shake off this loose habit and turn Pages to suit +their humors. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +[Scene 2.] + + + _Enter Accutus and Graccus_. + +_Grac_. Come, _Accutus_, discharge your follower; lets leave rubbing a +while, since the byas runs so much the wrong way. Sirra! these bowles +which we roule and turn in our lower sypher are by use made wodden +worldlings right, for every one strives who shall lye neerest the +mistris.[256] + +_Ac_. They post indeed, as their nature is, in an even way, but they are +cowards, theile abide no danger, they rub at everie mole-hil; if they +tyre in going up a hill, they retire and come back againe. + +_Grac_. Well let them alley, bet all, then to rest away, begone. + +_Acut_.[257] S'foote _Graccus_, heeres a couple of our old gamsters. Oh! +for quick conceite to beget a jest! heeres two, that either a man must +be aquainted or quarrell with, & of two evils ile chose the latter; I +hope I make it the lesser. If I should be acquainted, the foole will +haunt me, if I quarrell I may be so blest, as to be rid of a foole. + +_Grac_. I have a womans wit for a suddaine stratageme. + + _Enter Scil. and Servulis_.[258] + +_Scil_. No, by my troth, by this bright horrison-- + +_Accut_. An excellent Cuckoo, hee keepes his note in Winter. + +_Scil_. I haue no appetite at all to live in the countrie any more; now, +as they say, I have got a smacke on the Cittie. Slid, I thinke (as the +proverbe goes) I was wrapt in my mother's smocke the day I was begotten, +I thank the Goddesse _Cupid_ for it. I am so favourd of the Women, my +hostes loves me execrably. + +_Accut_. Good reason, fooles make good sport. + +_Grac_. Sever, sever, ere wee bee discovered. + +_Ser_. Sir, the respective regard of your well governed partes do +challenge a mellifluous species of enduement or contumelious estimation. + +_Grac_. Gentles, God save ye, well over-taken Gallants. + +_Scil_. Welcome, by the welkin. + +_Grac_. This is verie pleasant weather. + +_Ser_. Sir the ayre is frugall. + +_Grac_. Is that Gentleman of your Company? + +_Scil_. Our company sir, no, we are no companions for lame Souldiers. + +_Grac_. Propper man, pittie he is so regardles. A good legge, it seemes +he has some greefe in it. + +_Scil_. Nay, and he be lame, ile talke to him; there's so many lustie +knaves walkes now a daies will not sticke to give a man hard words, if +he be not disposed to charitie. Harke ye sir, I understand ye are a +propper man, and that you have a good legge. + +_Accut_. And what of that, Sir? + +_Scil_. What of that! slid, he answers me like a sturdie beggar +alreadie! by the five elements, or sences, I aske ye for no hurt, ile +bestowe my charitie as franke as-- + +_Acut_. Stoope and looke out, zounds a Gentleman cannot come by a +misfortune in service or so, but everie foole wil ride him. Take that. + [_Exit_. + +_Gra_. Sirra, stay, ile combat thee in his defence. + +_Serv_. Sir, be pacifical, the impotent must be lightly regarded. + +_Grac_. Give me leave Gentlemen, ile follow him. + +_Scil_. Nay, I pray you be malcontented, I have no great hurt, but in +revenge hee's a rascall for using me so; he may thank God, discretion +governed me, tis wel known I have always bene a man of peace; ile not +strike yee the least mouse in anger, nor hurt the poorest Conney that +goes in the street, for I know of fighting comes quarrelling, of +quarrelling comes brawling, and of brawling growes hard words, and as +the learned _puerelis_[259] writes, tis good sleeping in a whole skin. + +_Grac_. Sir, your discretion shall governe me at this time. Your name, I +pray ye sir? + +_Scil_. My name is signior _Scillicet_. + +_Grac_. Even so sir? nay, sir, I doe not forget your Argument. + + _Enter Accutus_. + +_Acut_. Save ye, sir, saw ye not a Gentleman come this way even now, +somewhat hurt in one of his Legges? + +_Scil_. He went by even now, sir; is he a friend of yours? + +_Acu_. A deare friend, and a propper Gentleman, sir. + +_Scil_. By the horison hee's a propper man indeede, he gave me the time +of day as he went by, I have a gallon of wine for him at any time. If ye +see anything in me worth Commendations, I pray ye commend me to him. + +_Acut_. I will sir;--twere best you gave me good words, but ile trie ye +farther yet;--fare ye well, sir. + +_Scil_. I pray you remember me to him.--You see my anger is over +already. [_Exit[260] Acutus_. + +_Grac_. Would ye not strike him? lets followe. + +_Scil_. Indeede ye shall not, I hate it. + +_Ser_. I will not be barren of my armorie, in my future perambulation +for the lower element. + +_Grac_. You are too patient in wrongs, sir.--Zoundes I know not how to +picke a quarrell. + +_Serv_. Sir, the grievous youth is inwardlye possest of a supple spirit, +he can brooke impugnying, but tis adverse to my spirit if I were armed. + + _Enter Accutus_. + +_Accut_. Save ye, gallants, sawe ye not a fellowe come halting this way +of late? + +_Scil_. Hath he done any hurt, or is hee a friend of yours? + +_Acut_. Hee's a Rascall and ile maintaine him so. + +_Scil_. Hee's a verie Rascall indeede, and he used mee like a knave: if +ere I meete him, I shall hardly put it up; I have it in blacke and blue +to shew heere. + +_Serv_. Say, I breath defyance to his front. + +_Acut_. Challenge him the field. + +_Scil_. Doos't thinke heele answere me? I'l challenge him at the +pich-fork, or the Flaile, or ile wrastle a fall with him for a bloody +nose; anye weapon I have bene brought up in ile-- + +_Accut_. What will ye? heere he is, you minime, that will be friend with +friends and foe with foes; and you that will defie _Hercules_, and +out-brave _Mars_ and feares not the Devil; passe, bladder, ile make ye +swell. + +_Scil_. By Gods-lid, if I had knowne it had bene you, I would not have +said so to your face. + [_Exeunt_. + +_Accut_. Away, with your Champion, goe. + +_Grac_. This was excellentlye performed, ifaith a better breathing then +a game at bowles. + +_Accut_. Theile give you the good salve at any time this month, for I am +sure they have salving enough for so long. + +_Grac_. I pittie the foole yfaith, but the tother Horseleach I wish his +blowes trebled. I converst with him, but a Rogue so stuft with the +lybrary of new minted[261] words, so tearing the sence, I never met +with. + +_Accut_. But now we have spoilde our determinate dinner at my hostesse +of the Hobbye; we shall nowe bee knowne. + +_Grac_. That holds well still, I am taken for a prooved friend, and thou +shalt be disguised, till, I have wrought a league by vertue of a pottle +of Canarie. + +_Acut_. Content, mine Host shall be accessarie and ile be a serviter to +observe myracles. + +_Grac_. They are good subjects for idle houres:--but soft, what second +course is entring heere? + + _Enter Phy., Bos, and Boy_. + +_Phy_. _For I did but kisse her; Bos_, how lik'st thou my relish? + +_Bos_. Oh sir, relish but your licour, as you doe your song, you may goe +drunke to bed any day in the weeke. + +_Phy_. _Sister_,[262] _awake, close not, &c_. Does my face hold colour +still? + +_Bos_. I, and you would but scaviage the pavilion of your nose. + +_Gra_. I, marrie, _Accutus_, how lik'st thou this Gentlewoman Gallant? + +_Accut_. A good states-man, for common-wealth of Brownists; the Rogue +hates a Church like the Counter. + +_Gra_. I, and if my Ladie Argentile were dead, he wold rather live upon +almes then fall to worke. + +_Accut_. So he might have tolleration.--What, shal's close with them? + +_Gra_. In any case, but in some mild imbrace, for if we should continue +thus rough, we should be shunned like an Appoplex. + +_Accut_. Gallants, the fortune of the day runs with ye: what all at +mumchance?[263] how is't? how is't? + +_Phy_. Sir, I think twas you bestowed some abuse of me tother day. + +_Accu_. Which I would wipe out of your memorie +With satisfaction of a double courtesie. + +_Phy_. I accept it ifaith, sir, I am not prone to anger, I assure ye the +following night knew not my anger. Your acquaintance, Signior. + +_Gra_. Fye, without ceremony lets yoake this triplicity as we did in the +daies of olde, with mirth and melody. + +_Phy_. I, say you? so then _Coll_[264] _her and clip her and kisse her, +too, &c_. + +_Bos_. The triplicitie! heere's those has supt at an ordinarie. + +_Accu_. This gallant humors. + +_Gra_. But the other walkes aloofe. + +_Bos_. The triplicite! heere's those has crackt glasses and drawn blood +of a Tapster. + +_Gra_. The visitation of your hand, sir. + +_Bos_. The Triplicitie! will colours change? + +_Acut_. Sir, take no offence, I beseech ye, we gave onlye satisfaction +for an olde injurie, but in the degree of amitie your selfe sits in the +superlative. + +_Bos_. No sir, but in respect. + +_Gra_. What kinde is your Dogge of, sir? + +_Bos_. Verie kinde to anything but his meat, that hee devours with great +alacritie. + +_Grac_. Where was he bred? + +_Bos_. In a Bitch. + +_Gra_. What Countrie? + +_Bos_. A kind of Mungrill, he will carrie but not fetch, marrie hee is +to be put to a dauncing schoole for instruction. + +_Acut_. The tricke of the rope were excellent in him, & that ile teach +him, if I misse not my mark. Come, Gallants, we waste time, the first +Taverne we arrive at weel see the race of an houre-glasse. + +_Phy_. Can ye a part in a Song? + +_Gra_. Verie tollerably. + +_Phy_. Weele have a catch then, if with sol, sol, la: Gentlemen have you +any good herbe? you have match, boy. + +_Boy_. Your pipe shall want no fire sir. + +_Acut_. Oh, without ceremony: now, _Graccus_, if we can but pawne their +senses in Sack and Sugar, let mee alone to pursue the sequell. + +_Gra_. Follow it away. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +[_Scene_ 3.] + + + _Enter Hostis, Cittizens wife, Servulus, and Scillicet_. + +_Hostis_. Come, come, bring them out of the ayre: alas good hearts, what +rogorous villaine would commit with him? ile tell ye Gosip, hee's eene +as kinde an animall, he would not wrong them y'faith. + +_Citty wife_. Tush, feare nothing woman, I hope to make him so again. +Alacke, alacke, how fell you out all a head?[265] Oh Butcher! are ye +hurt in another place? + +_Hostis_. Did he not throw you against the stones? If he did, doe not +conceale, I dare say you gave them not a foule word. + +_Scil_. By the illuminate welkin not a word till my mouth was full of +blood, and so made my words foule. + +_Citty wife_. Is not this Gentleman hurt too? + +_Serv_. Onelye the extravagant Artire[266] of my arme is brused. + +_Cittie wi_. See, see, the extravagant of his arme is brused to. Alas, +how could ye quarrell so? + +_Serv_. I will demonstrate: in the defence of the generous youth I did +appugne my adverse, let violently flie. + +_Cittie wife_. Ah good hearts! would I had stood between you, when he +let flie so violently. + +_Ser_. We voide of hostile armes. + +_Hostis_. I, if they had had horses, they had sav'd their armes. + +_Serv_. Be capable, I meane, void of armorie. + +_Citty-wife_. Untill ye had armor on. + +_Serv_. Had I bene accompanied, with my Toledo or morglay.[267] + +_Cittie wife_. I, your Dogge or Bitch. + +_Serv_. Continue, I beseech, I meane my sword, sole lye my sword. + +_Cittie wife_. Or solely your sword, better a bad toole then none +at all. + +_Serv_. In the concourse-- + +_Cittie w_. Nay, the concourse will light on him for it, I warrant. + +_Serv_. I, for the tuition of my Capitall, did mount my Semisphere, +three degrees, that as a strong, & stony guard did defend my Capitall. + +_Citty w_. Twas well ye kept him out, for if he had entered on your +stony Guard, he would have spoilede your Capitall. + +_Serv_. In fine, being mortally assaild, he did preambulate [_sic_] or +walk off. + +_Scil_. Yes, faith, he did preambulate, and walke mee finely. + +_Cittie w_. Good heartes, how many were there of them? + +_Serv_. About the number of seaven. + +_Scil_. I, there was seaven. + +_Serv_. Or eight. + +_Scil_. Or eight. + +_Serv_. Rather more. + +_Citty w_. I, more at least, I warrant ye. + +_Hostis_. Alasse ye cannot chuse but be more hurt, but ile search you +throughly, be assured. + +_Citty w_. And if she cannot helpe ye fewe can; shee knowes what belongs +to a Tent,[268] or a bruse, and experience is good in those cases. + +_Serv_. I have a concupiscent forme of trust in your skil, it will +malladise. + +_Citty wi_. I, feare not, put both your concupisences in me for that +matter. + +_Serv_. The generous will disburse coynage for satisfaction of your +metaphisicall endevour. + +_Scil_. Yes, yes, I will discharge all. + +_Cittie wife_. Wee make no doubt of that; come into a chamber, ye shall +lye downe awhile; perhaps youle bee stiffe anon, then you shall use your +legges, the more you strive with it the better. Alas, good hearts! + + [_Exeunt_. + +_Phy_. Sol, sol, la! Tapster, give attendance! Gentlemen, I hope all we +are friends, the welkin is skie colour still, and men must grow by +degrees; you must pardon me, I must sp--speak my minde. + +_Grac_. The uttermost of your minde at this time cannot be offensive. + +_Phy_. _The fryer was in the_--sol, sol, draw the tother quart. I hope +you are not angrie gallants; and ye come to my lodging, ye shall be +welcome; my Hostes shall bid you welcome, shee's a good wench; if I say +the word, she wil fa--fullfill it. + +_Acut_. Sirra drawer, for the other thats a sleepe; let him so remaine; +for the Dog, let him be bound to a post for his appearance, till I take +order for his undooing. + +_Draw_. The foole and the Dogge shall both take rest at your commaund, +Sir. + +_Phy_. Gentlemen, I hope we are all friends: sol, sol, shal's have a +catch? + +_Grac_. I, come, come, everie one catch a part. [_Sing_. + +_Phy_. Hey good boies ifaith, now a three man's song, or the olde _downe +a downe_; well things must be as they may, fils the other quart; +muskadine,[269] with an egg is fine, there's a time for all things. +_Bonos nocthus_.[270] [_Sleepe_. + +_Grac_. Good night to you sirs. + +_Accut_. So now, _Graccus_, see what a polluted lumpe, +A deformed _Chaos_ of unsteddy earth +Man is, being in this ill kinde unmand seeming somthing +Bestial man, brutish animall. Well tis thus decreede, +He shall be what he seemes, that's deade. +For what in him shows life but a breathing ayre? +Which by a free constraint it self ingenders +In things without life, as twixt a pair of bellowes +We feele a forcible aire, having of it self +Force and being, no more is this breathing block +But for his use in kinde.--Give out in some bursse or congregation +Among the multitude _Philautus_[271] death. +Let all the customarie rights of funerall, +His knell or what else, be solemnly observed. +Ile take order for his winding sheete, +And further, to furnish it with further suertie, +Ile have a potion that for twentie houres +Shall quench the motion of his breath. Goe, spread, +Let me alone to effect it. + +_Gra_. Ile sow it, I warrant thee; thou talkst of bursse,--I have a way +worth ten on't, ile first give it out in my Barbers shop, then at my +ordinarie, and that's as good as abroad; and as I cross _Tiber_ my +waterman shall attach it, heele send it away with the tide, then let it +come out to an Oyster wenches eare, and sheele crie it up and down the +streetes. + +_Acut_. Let's first secure him from eyes, and at night he shall be +portered to our chamber; so, now away. + +_Grac_. Oh a couple that would spred rarely,[272] lets give it for loves +sake. + + _Enter Hostis and Cittizens wife_. + +_Acut_. Call, call. + +_Grac_. Hem, hem. + +_Citty wife_. A pox on your hemmings, do you think we care for your +hemmings? + +_Hostis_. Tis some stinking troublesome knave, I warrant ye. + +_Citty wife_. Hang him, regard him not; theres hemming indeede, like a +Cat, God blesse us, with a burre in her throate. + [_Exeunt_ + +_Grac_. S'hart, how we are ript up for this? + +_Ac_. Oh man, this hemming is the most hatefulst thing, theres not the +most publique punck,[273] nor worm-eaten bawd that can abide it, and +honestie would run madde to heare it. But come we waste time, tis now +about the mid of day; we must sowe arithmatike by the houres, that +at[274] the morrowes highth _Philautus_ awake again, at which time he +shall be on his Hearse, and all the Guestes of the Hobbye invited to +accompany his ghost, when being awake, himselfe and all shall see if +drunkenesse be not mad misterie. + +_Grac_. But I prethee, practise some milder behaviour at the ordinarie, +be not al madman. + +_Acut_. Push,[275] ile bee all observative, and yet ifaith I grieve to +see this double garded[276] age, all side-coate, all foole. Fye thou +keepest the sports from the marke; away, and returne. What newes is now +in progresse. + +_Grac_. I have the newest. _Terentia_, Daughter to the olde Senate, +thogh _Lentulus_ left the field to come to her, yet she hath forsaken +him in the open field, and shee's for our young Oratour, _Tully_; she +has vowd by _Venus_ legge and the little God of Love, he shall be her +captaine; sheele serve under him, till death us depart,[277] and +thereto, I plight thee my troth. + +_Acut_. More Ladies _Terentias_, I crie still, +That prise a saint before a Silken foole. +She that loves true learning and pomp disdaines +Treads on _Tartarus_ and _Olimpus_ gaines. + +_Grac_. I, marrie, but then would learning be in colours, proud, proud; +then would not foure nobles purchase a benefice, two Sermons in a yeare. + +_Accut_. I, _Graccus,_ now thou hitst the finger right +Upon the shoulder of Ingratitude. +Thou hast clapt an action of flat felony; +Now, ill betide that partiall judgement +That doomes a farmers rich adultus +To the supremacie of a Deanrie, +When needie, yet true grounded Discipline, +Is govern'd with a threed bare Vycarage. + +_Grac_. I, thou speakst well of their sides that are liberally overseene +in the sciences. I take no hold on't, but were all men of thy minde, +then would everie Schoole-maister bee a Senate, and there would never +come Cobler to be Constable againe. + +_Accut_. Ynough, ynough, _Graccus_, let silence seale up our secret +thoughts and libertie say, + + _Virtus sola summa gloria, + Quae format homines vero honore_. + + + + +[ACT THE THIRD. + +_Scene_ 1.] + + + _Enter Flaminius and Tully_. + +_Flam_. Goe to, I say, urge no more, tis Taverne talke, for Taverners +Table talke for all the vomit of rumor. What newes, saies one? none so +new as this: _Tully_ shall be married to _Terentia_. What newes says +another? the same, the same. Whose consent have ye? not mine, I deny it. +I must know of it, ile have a hand; goe to, no more. + +_Tul_. Gentle Sir, +Lay not a leaden loade of foule reproach +Upon so weake a prop; what's done is past recal. +If ought is done, unfitting to be done, +The worst is done, my life must answer it. + +_Flam_. I, you shall answer it in the Senate house, the Emperor shall +knowe it. If she be my childe, I will rule her, ile bridle her, ile +curbe her, ile raine her; if she will not, let her goe, starve, begge, +hang, drawe, sinke, swimme, she gets not a doit, a deneire, ile not owne +her. + +_Tul_. Reverend Sir, be more patient. + +_Flam_. I am impatient, I am troubled, I am vext, I am scoft, I am +pointed at, ile not endure it, ile not abide it, ile be revenged, I wil, +of her, of you both, proud boy, wanton giglot,[278] aspyring, hautie. +Knowe your equals, shee's not for ye, if ye persist, by my holy maker, +you shall answer it, looke to it, you shall, you shall indeede. + [_Exit_[279] _Flaminus_. + +_Tull_. I shall, I must, I will, I will indeede, +Even to the greatest I will answere it; +If great mens eares be ope to inocency, +If greatnesse be not partial with greatenesse, +Even to the greatest I will answere it. +Perhaps, some shallow censurer will say, +The Orator was proud, he would climbe too hie; +But heaven and truth will say the contrarie. +My greatest grief is, I have my friend betraide; +The treasons done, I, and the Traitor's free, +Yet innocent Treason needes not to flee. +His loyaltie bids me abide his frowne, +And he hath power to raise or hurle me downe. + + _Enter_[280] _Terentia_. + +_Tere_. What ailes my _Tully_? wherefore look'st thou sad? +What discontent hath stopped the crimson current +Which ran so cheerefully within that brow, +And makes it sullen like a standing poole? +Tell me who ist hath wrong[d] my _Cicero_? +[Say,[281] is it _Lentulus_?] + +_Tul_. Oh wrong him not. + +_Tere_. Who is it then, that wrongs my _Tully_ so? +What, hath _Terentia_ ought offended thee? +Doost thou recall my former promises? +Dost thou repent thee of-- + +_Tul_. Oh wrong me not. + +_Tere_. What, hath my father done this injurie? +There, there, my thoughts accord to say tis so. +I will deny him then, hee's not my father; +Hee's not my friend will envie _Cicero_. + +_Tul_. Wrong not thy self. + +_Teren_. What heavie string doost thou devide[282] upon? +Wrong not him, wrong not me, wrong not thy selfe. +Where didst thou learne that dolefull mandrake's note +To kill the hearers? _Tully_, canst thou not +Indure a little danger for my love, +The fierie spleene of an angrie Father, +Who like a storme will soon consume it self? +I have indurde a thousand jarring houres +Since first he did mistrust my fancies aime, +And will indure a thousand thousand more +If life or discord either live so long. + +_Tul_. The like will I for sweete _Terentia_. +Feare not, I have approoved armour on, +Will bide the brunt of popular reproach +Or whatsoever. + +_Tere_. Enough, _Tully,_ we are discovered. + + _Enter_[283] _Flavia_. + +_Fla_. Yfaith,[284] are ye at it? what, is there never a loving teare +shed on either side? nor you? nor you? _Tullies_ [eyes] are red, come, +come, ye fooles, be more breefe. I would have buried three husbands, +before youle be married. + +_Tul_. Why lives _Flavia_ a Virgin still? + +_Fla_. Because, I haue vow'd virginitie til I can get a husband. + +_Teren_. Why, _Flavia_, you haue many suitors. + +_Flav_. Oh, I am loaden with suitors; for indeede I am faine to beare +with any of them, I have a dumbe-shewe of all their pictures, each has +sent in his severall shadow, and I swear I had rather have them then the +substance of any of them. + +_Tul_. Can you not describe them in action? + +_Flav_. Yes, and their action; I have one honest man of the age of +fortie five, or there about, that traverses his ground three mile everie +morning to speake to mee, and when hee is come, after the saluting +ceremony, of 'how do you, Lady,' he falles to calculating the nativitie +of the Moone, prognosticating what faire weather will follow, if it +either snow or raine; sometime with a gentle pinche by the fingar +intermixed with the volley[285] of sighes, hee falles to discoursing of +the prise of pease, and that is as pleasing to me as a stinking breath. + +_Tul_. A good description. + +_Fla_. Another brings Letters of commendation from the Constable of the +Parish, or the Church-warden, of his good behaviour and bringing up, how +he could write and reade written hand; further desiring that his Father +would request my Father that his Fathers Sonne might marrie my Fathers +Daughter and heele make her a joynter of a hundred pound a yeare, and +beget three or foure fooles to boote. + +_Teren_. Better and better. + +_Tul_.[286] _Usus promptus [sic] facit; Faemina[e] ludificantur +viros_; well, forward. + +_Flav_.[287] I have another that I prise derer then the rest, a most +sweete youth, and if the wind stand with him I can smell him half a +mile ere hee come at me, indeede hee weares a Musk-cat--what call ye +it?--about him. + +_Tul_. What doe you call it? + +_Flav_. What ye will, but he smels better then burnt Rosemarie, as well +as a perfuming pan, and everie night after his first sleepe writes +lovesicke sonnets, railing against left handed fortune his foe,[288] +that suffers his sweet heart to frowne on him so. + +_Tul_. Then it seemes you graunt him no favour. + +_Flav_. Faith, I dare not venture on him, for feare he should be rotten; +give me nature, not arte. + +_Tere_. Here comes Lord _Lentulus_. + +_Tul_. Swift danger, now ride poaste through this passage. + + _Enter_[289] _Lentulus_. + +Health to your honour. + +_Len_. And happines to you. + +_Tul_. In[290] heaven, deere Lord, but-- + +_Lent_. Tush, tush, on earth; come, come, I know your suite, tis +graunted sure, what ere it be. + +_Tul_. My sute craves death, for treason to my friend. + +_Teren_. The Traitor lives while I have breath to spend, +Then let me die to satisfie your will. + +_Lent_. Neither, yfaith, kneele not, rise, rise, I pray; +You both confesse you have offended me? + +_Both_. We doe, we have. + +_Lent_. Then for this offence, be this your doome: +_Tulley_ must die, but not till fates decree +To cut your vital threed, or _Terentia_ +Finde in her heart to be your Deathes-man. + +_Flav_. Faith the Fates may doe as they may, but _Terentia_ will never +finde in her heart to kill him, sheele first burie him quick. + +_Len_. The like is doomde to faire _Terentia_. +How say you both, are yee content? + +_Teren_. My thoughts are plung'd in admiration. + +_Tul_. But can your honour burie such a wrong? + +_Len_. I can, I can; heere, _Tulley_, take _Terentia_, +Live many happie yeares in faithfull love. +This is no more then friendships lawes allow; +Thinke me thy self, another _Cicero_. + +_Flav_. Twere better, my Lord, you did perswade her to think you another +_Cicero_, so you might claim some interest in her now and then. + +_Lent_. That I would claim with you, faire Ladie; +Hark in your eare, nay, I must conclude with you. + +_Flau_. Y'oule not bite, my Lord? + +_Len_. No, of my faith, my Lady. + +_Tere_. Thus far, my love, our hopes have good successe; +One storme more past, my griefes were much the less. + +_Tul_. Friendship itself hath beene more prodigal +Then a bolde face could begge upon a friend. + +_Lent_. Why, then theres a bargaine. + +_Flav_. Strike hands upon the same, I am yours to commaund. +Ile love with ye, ile lie with ye, ile love with all my heart, +With all my strength, with all my power and virtue: +Seald and delivered in the presence of us-- + +_Lent_. _Marcus Tullius Cicero_. +Then you deliver this as your act and deede? + +_Flav_. I doe, and scale it with this-- + +_Lent_. Why, well said, tis done; see, we begin but now, +And are as ready to goe to Church as you. +What needes further ceremony? + +_Flav_. Yes, a little matrimony. + +_Lent_. I, Lady. Come _Tully_ and _Terentia_; +One day shall shine on both our Nuptials; +Feare not, ile quench the fire of your Fathers heate +With my consent. + +_Flav_. I prethee, appoint the time. + +_Lent_. About a week hence, love. + +_Flav_. Oh, tis too intolerable long. + +_Lent_. Then foure daies. + +_Flav_. Foure daies is foure times foure & twenty hours. +That's too long too. + +_Lent_. We cannot sooner be readie. + +_Flav_. Yes, and unreadie[291] too in a day and a halfe. + +_Lent_. Well then two daies. + +_Flav_. Til then weele feede on conceite; _Tully_, thanke me, but for +your companie I would not tarry so long; come, _Tully_, since we shall +bee married all at one time, weele goe to bed so, and he shall be +maister of the Cock-pit that bids his Gossips[292] first. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + + +[ACT THE FOURTH. + +_Scene_ 1.] + + + _Enter Accutus and Graccus_. + +_Acut_. Nay quicke, _Graccus_, least our houre forestall us, ile in and +deale for your disguise; tarry thou & give mine host a share of our +intent; marry, charge him to keep it as secret as his Garbage. He undoes +our drift [else] and cloathes the foole in sackcloath during his life. + +_Gra_. Ile warrant thee ile manage it with as good judgement as a +Constable his charge. + +_Acut_. And I mine as a watchman his office. + +_Gra_. Better, I hope; well about it. + + [_Exit [Acutus]_. + + _Enter_[293] _Host. Prentices pass over the stage_. + +_Host_. There, there my little lackey boyes, give the word as ye passe, +look about to my guests there; score up at the Bar there; again, agen, +my fine Mercuries; if youle live in the facultie, be rulde by +instructions, you must be eyed like a Serjeant, an eare like a +Belfounder, your conscience a Schoolemaister, a knee like a Courtier, +a foote[294] like a Lackey, and a tongue like a Lawyere. Away, away, my +brave bullies! welcome, sweete Signior, I cannot bow to thy knee, I'me +as stout & as stiff as a new made knight, but if I say the word, mine +Host bids the Cobler-- + +_Gra_. May I crave a word of you, mine Host? + +_Host_. Thou shalt whisper in mine eare, I will see and say little; what +I say duns[295] the mouse and welcom, my bullies. + + _Enter Scillicet and Getica_. + +_Scil_. By the torrid zone (sweet heart) I have thought well of you ever +since I loved ye, as a man wold say, like a young dancer, out of all +measure; if it please you yfaith anything I have promised you ile +performe it to a haire, ere to morrow night. + +_Get_. I wounder [_sic_] I can heare no newes of my man and my puppie. + +_Scil_. Doe you thinke, sweet heart, to be maried by day light or by +torch-light? + +_Get_. By night is more Lady-like. Ile have a cryer to cry my puppie +sure. + +_Scil_. What thinke ye if we had an offering? + +_Get_. That were most base yfaith. + +_Scil_. Base, slid, I cannot tel if it were as base as a sagbut, ile be +sworne tis as common as a whore, tis even as common to see a Bason at a +Church doore, as a Box at a Playhouse. + +_Get_. It greeves me not so much for my man as for my puppie; my man can +shift for himself, but my poore puppie! truely I thinke I must take +Phisicke even for feare, sweetheart. + +_Host_. Tut, tut, ile warrant thee ile be as close as a bawd, ile keepe +mine owne counsell, be merrie and close;[296] merrie hart lives long, +let my guests take no wrong, & welcome, my bullie. [_Exit_. + +_Grac_. There's none ment, beleeve it, sir. + +_Scil_. Signor, by the welkin, well met, what all three so luckely? + + _Enter Servulus_. + +_Ser_. Gallants, saving the Ceremonie, +Stroke your haire up and admire, forsweare sacke. + +_Scil_. Foresweare Sacke! slid, not for the spending of two farmes more, +if they were come into my hands once. + +_Ser_. I say be astonisht and forsweare sacke, for by the combustion +influence of sacke five men lye breathlesse ready to be folded in the +terrestiall element. + +_Grac_. Five slaine with Sacke! ist possible? + +_Ser_. These eyes are testators. + +_Scil_. Nay, then tis so. + +_Getica_. Sir, you have not heard of a puppie in your travels? + +_Grac_. No indeede, Gentlewoman. + +_Ser_. Five, beleeve me, Sir. + +_Acu_. Five of one, oh devil! +What limme of him but a complete Villaine! +A tongue prophaner then Idolatrie, +His eye a beacon fixed in his place +Discovering illes, but hood-winked unto grace; +His heart a nest of vice kept by the Devill, +His good is none at all, his all is evill. + + _Enter_[297] _Hostess_. + +_Hostis_. Oh, the father! Gallants, yonders the most hard favourd newes +walkes the streetes, seaven men going to their graves, that dyed with +drinking and bisseling.[298] + +_Acut_. Good, still, nay then I see the devill has some power over a +woman more then a man. Seaven! t'will be more anon. + +_Get_. Now I beseech _Bacchus_ my puppie has not overseene[299] himself. + +_Scil_. This is verie strange. + +_Hostis_. And as true a report, I assure you. + + _Enter City-Wife_[300] + +_Cittie wife_. Out alas, where's my Gosip? Oh woman! have you not heard +the newes? + +_Hostis_. Yes, I have heard on't. + +_Cittie wife_. Oh, woman, did your child's child ever see the like? nine +men to bee buried too day, that drunk healthes last night. + +_Acut_. Better and better, goodnes never mends so fast in the carrying: +nine! + +_Cittie wife_. They say one is your guest, _Philautus_. + +_Acut_. And all, I dare sweare, whome ile revive againe. + +_Cittie wife_. Well he was a propper man, yfaith. + +_Hostis_. I, and had good skill in prick-song, yet he had a fault in his +humor, as none are without (but Puritans,); he would swear like an +Elephant, and stamp and stare, (God blesse us,) like a play-house +book-keeper when the actors misse their entrance. + +_Scil_. Nay, harke ye, sir, I can brooke much injurie but not that; +meddle with me but not with my trade; shee is mine owne, shee's _meus, +tuus, suus_, no man's else, I assure ye, we are sure[301] together. + +_Grac_. Sure ye are together, sir, but is your wife your trade? You +meane to live upon your wife then. + +_Acut_. The foole has some wit,[302] though his money bee gone. + +_Grac_. Sir, I hope ye are not offended, I assure ye I would be loath to +offend the least haire of your _caput, sissiput_, or _occiput_. + +_Scil_. _Occiput_? what meane you by _occiput_? + +_Grac_. The former part of your head. + +_Scil_. The former part of your head! why I hope I have not an occiput, +in the former part of my head. Signior _Servulus_, what meanes he by it? + +_Serv_. The signification of the word only amounts to this, the former +part of your head. + +_Accut_. The foole is jealious, prethee feede it. + +_Scil_. S'lid, I cannot be so sussified; I pray you, Segnior, what +meanes he by _occiput_? + +_Grac_. No hurt, verily, onely the word signifies, and the reason is, +saith _Varro_, being a great deriver from originals, it is called +_occiput_ for that the former part of the head looks likest the Oxe. + +_Scil_. Likest the Oxe, by gad, if ere I come to talke with that +_Varro_, ile make him show a better reason for it. + +_Grac_. But, howsoever, it proceeded from me all in kindenes. + +_Scil_. Sir, I accept it so, for I tell ye I am of a mollifying nature. +I can strut and againe in kindnesse I can suffer a man to breake my +head, and put it up without anger. + +_Accut_. I claime that priviledge, sir, I thinke I offended you once +that way. + +_Scil_. I love ye then for it sir, yet I cannot remember that ever a +Tapster broke my head, yet I call to minde I have broke many Tapsters +heads. + +_Accut_. Not as a Tapster, for I but borrow this habyt. + +_Scil_. The fruit is knowne by the tree, by gad, I knewe by your +aporn[303] ye were a gentlemen, but speciallye by your flat[304] cap. + +_Serv_. I call to memorie, let us unite with kinde imbrace. + +_Cittie wife_. Now well fare your harts; by my truth, tis joy to a woman +to see men kinde; faith you courtiers are mad fellowes, you care not in +your humors to stab man or woman that standes in your way, but in the +end your kindenes appeares. + +_Hostis_. You can resolve us, sir; we heare of great revels to be at +Court shortly. + +_Grac_. The marriage of _Lentulus_ and the Orator: verie true. + +_Hostis_. Might not a company of Wives be beholding to thee for places, +that would be there without their husbands knowledge, if neede were? + +_Grac_. A moitie of friendship that, ile place ye where ye shall sit and +see all. + +_Cittie wife_. Sit? nay, if there were but good standinges, we care not. + +_Acu_. S'foot, _Graccus_, we tarrie too long, I feare; the houre wil +overtake us, tarrie thou and invite the Guests, and Ile goe see his +course mounted. + +_Grac_. About it. + + [_Exit_[305] _Acutus_. + +_Hostis_. Whether goes that gentleman? + +_Grac_. About a needeful trouble; this gentleman +Hath, at the charges of his charitie, +Preparde to inter a friend of his, +Though lately entertaind a friend of yours, +Acquaintance to you all, _Philautus_; and would desire +You would with him accompany his ghost +To funerall, which will be presently on his journey. + +_Cittie wife_. Of his charge? dyed he not able to purchase a Winding +sheete? + +_Grac_. Twere sinne to wrong the dead; you shall heare the inventorie of +his pocket. + + Imprimis, brush and a Combe o o v.d. + Item, a looking Glasse o o i.d.ob. + Item, A case of Tobacco Pipes o o iiij.d. + Item, Tobacco, halfe an ounz o o vj.d. + Item, in money and golde o o iij.d. + _Summa totalis_. xix d. halfe penny. + +_Hostis_. What was his suite worth? + +_Grac_. His sute was colde, because not his owne, and the owner caused +it to be restored as part of recompence, having lost the principall. + + _Re-enter_[306] _Acutus_. + +_Acut_. What, are they readie? the Corse is on his journey hetherwards. + +_Grac_. Tush, two womens tungs give as loud report as a campe royall of +double cannons. + + _Enter Host, Cornutus_. + +_Host_. Tut, tut, thou art welcom; _Cornutus_ is my neighbour, I love +him as my self. Tha'st a shrowe to thy wife, gave her tongue to [_sic_] +much string, but let mine Host give thee counsell, heele teach thee a +remedie. + +_Cornu_. No, no, my good Host; mum, mum, no words against my wife; +shee's mine owne, one flesh, & one blood. I shall feele her hurt, her +tongue is her owne, so are her hands; mum, mum, no words against your +wife. + +_Host_. Tut, tut, thou art a foole, keepe her close from the poticarie, +let her taste of no licoras, twill make her long winded; no plums, nor +no parseneps, no peares, nor no Popperins, sheele dreame in her sleep +then; let her live vpon Hasels, give her nuts for her dyet, while a +toothe's in her head, give her cheese for disgestion,[307] twil make her +short winded; if that will not serve, set fire to the pan and blow her +up with Gun-powder. + +_Cittie wife_. I, I, mine Host, you are well imployed to give a man +counsell against his wife; they are apt enough to ill I warrant ye. + +_Cornu_. Mum, mum, my sweet wife, I know the world wel enough; I have an +eare but I heare not, an eye but I see not, what's spoke against thee I +regard not; mum, mum, I knowe the world well enough. + +_Cittie wife_. I, and twere more seemely you were at your owne house +too; your wife cannot goe abroad, but you must follow; husbands must bee +fringed to their wives Petticoates. I pray you tarrie you, ile goe home. + +_Cor_. Not so, my sweet wife, I am gone, I am vanisht; mum, mum, no +anger shall stirre thee; no words, I know the world well inough. + +_Hostis_. Twere better, by thrice deuce-ace, in a weeke every woman +could awe her husband so well as she. + +_Gracc_. Ist possible? s'foot, well I thought it had bene but a fable al +this while that _Iole_ shold make great _Hercules_ spit on his thombes +and spin, but now I see if a man were as great as _Caesar, Julius_ or +_Augustus_, or both in one, a woman may take him downe. + +_Hostis_. Gossip, faith ile use a little of your counsel, but my husband +is so fat, I feare I shall never bring him to it. + +_Grac_. Now, gentles, you that can, prepare a few teares to shed, for +now enters a sad sceane of sorrowe. + + _Enter Fryer and Course_. + +_Fryer_. Man is flesh and flesh is fraile, +The strongest man at length must faile; +Man is flesh and flesh is grasse; +Consuming time, as in a glasse, +Now is up and now is downe +And is not purchast by a Crowne; +Now seede, and now we are sowen, +Now we wither, now are mowen; +_Frater noster_ heere doth lye, +_In paupertate_ he did die, +And now is gone his _viam longam_ +That leades unto his _requiem aeternam_; +But dying needie, poore and bare, +Wanting to discharge the Fryer, +Unto his grave hee's like to passe +Having neither Dirge nor Masse: +So set forward, let him goe, +_Et benedicamus Domino_. + +_Phy_. And then to _Apollo_ hollo, trees, hollo.--Tapster a few more +cloathes to my feete. + +_Omnes_. Oh heavens! + +_Acut_. Gentles, keep your places, feare nothing; in the name of God, +what art thou? + +_Phy_. My Hearse and winding-sheete! what meanes this? why, Gentles, I +am a living man. + +_Acut_. Spirit, thou ly'st; thou deludest us. + +_Citty wife_. Conjure him, Fryer. + +_Fryer_. _In nomine Domini_ I thee charge, +_Responde mihi_, heere at large, +_Cujum pecus_, whence thou art, +_Et quamobrem_ thou makest us start +_In spiritus_ of the gloomy night? +_Qui Venis huc_ us to affright, +_Per trinitatem_ I there charge thee, +_Quid tu vis hic_ to tell to me. + +_Phy_. Why, Gentles, I am a living man, _Philautus_.[308] What instance +shall I give ye? heare me I have sight, understanding, I know mine +hostes, I see that Gentlewoman, I can feele. + +_Scil_. Feele this Gentlewoman! s'lid if yee were ten Ghosts, ile not +indure it. + +_Acut_. Spirit, thou deludest us. + +_Phy_. Why what should I say? will ye heare my voice, heeres not but-- + +_Scil_. Nay, that's a lye, then tis a living spirit, ile have a bout +with him. + +_Accut_. Oh sir, meddle not with shadowes. Spirit, thou lyest; +I saw thee dead, [and] so did many moe.[309] +We know ye wandring dwellers in the dark +Have power to shape you like mortallitie +To beguile the simple & deceve their soules. +Thou art a Devill. + +_Phy_. Sweet Gent, beholde I am flesh and blood; heeres my flesh, feele +it. + +_Cittie wife_. By my troth, methinkes hee should be alive. I could finde +in my heart to feele his flesh. + +_Grac_. Trie with your Rapier, _Accutus_; if he bleede he lives. + +_Phy_. If I bleede I die; sweet Gentlemen, draw no blood. + +_Accu_. How shall wee knowe thou art flesh and blood then? + +_Grac_. Take heede, _Accutus_, heele blast thee. + +_Phy_. What instance shall I give ye? I am _Phylautus_,[310] he that +must needes confesse, he was drunk in your companies last day; sweet +Gentlemen, conceive me aright. + +_Accut_. Why true, true, that we know and[311] those swilling bowels. +Death did arrest thee, many saw thee deade, +Else needles were these rites of funeralls. +And since that time, till now, no breath was knowne +Flye from you; and twentie times the houre-glasse +Hath turned his upside downe; and twenty times, +The nimble current sand hath left his upper roome. +To ly beneath, since sparke of life appeard; +In all which time my care imploide it self +To give the[e] rights of buriall: now, if you live, +Who so glad as I? + +_Phy_. Sir, your love has showne it selfe aboundant, but the cold aire +is a meanes to devorce me from your companies: mine host, let me crave +passage to my chamber. + +_Host_. Out of my dores, knave; thou enterest not my dores, I have no +chalke in my house, my posts shall not be garded with a little sing +song, _Si nihil attuleris, ibis, Homere, foras_. + +_Accut. Ha! how now man? see'st now any errors? +Nay, this is nothing; he hath but showne +A patterne of himself, what thou shalt finde +In others; search through the Globe of earth, +If there mongst twentie two thou doost find +Honester then himself ile be buried straight. +Now thinke what shame tis to be vilde, +And how vilde to be drunk: look round! where? +Nay looke up, beholde yon Christall pallace. +There sits an ubiquitarie Judge +From whom _arcana nulla abscondita_, +That see's all and at pleasure punisheth; +Thou canst not scape scot free, how cans't thou? +Why, sencelesse man in that sinne will betray +His father, brother, nay, himselfe;[312] feares not +To commit the worst of evils, secure if +Thunder-boults should drop from heaven, dreading +Nor heaven, nor hell; indeede his best state +Is worse then least, prised at highest rate. + +_Ser_. This critique is hoarsh [_sic_], unsaverie, and reproofeful; +avoyd him. + +_Scil_. Hee speakes well, but I like not his dispraysing of drunkennes; +tis Phisicke to me and it makes me to sleep like a horse with my nose in +the manger. Come, sweet heart. + +_Hostis_. Signior, _Philautus_, I pray ye a word. [_Exit_. + +_Acut_. How now, whispering? s'foot if they should give our purpose +another crosse point, where are we then? note, note. + +_Hostis_. Heere take the key, convey yourself into the Chamber, but in +any case take heede my husband see you not. + +_Phy_. Feare not, Gentles, be thanks the guerden of your love till time +give better abilitie. [_Exit_. + +_Acut_. Ha! nay s'foot, I must claw out another device, we must not part +so, _Graccus_; prethee keepe the sceane, til I fetch more actors to fill +it fuller. + +_Gra_. But prethee, let me partake. + +_Acut_. Not till I returne, pardon me. [_Exit_. + +_Hostis_. By my troth Gossip, I am halfe sick of a conceit. + +_Citty wife_. What, woman? passion of my heart, tell me your greefs. + +_Hostis_. I shall goe to court now, and attired like an old Darie woman, +a Ruffe holland of eight groates, three inches deep of the olde cut, and +a hat as far out of fashion as a close placket. + +_Cittie wife_. Why I hope your husband is able to maintain you better, +are there not nights as well as daies? does he not sleepe sometimes? has +he no pockets about him, cannot you search his breeches? anything you +find in his breeches is your owne. + +_Hostis_. But may a woman doe that with safety? + +_Cittie wife_. I, and more, why should she not? why what is his is +yours, what's yours your owne. + +_Hostis_. The best hope I have is; you knowe my Guest Mistris _Gettica_, +she has pawnd her Jewels to me already, and this night I look for her +Hood and her tyer, or if the worst chance, I know I can intreate her to +weare my cloathes, and let me goe in her attire to Court. + +_Cittie wife_. Or if all faile, you may hire a good suit at a Jewes, or +at a broakers; tis a common thing and speacially among the common sort. + + _Enter Host and Constable_. + +_Host_. To search through my house! I have no Varlets, no knaves, no +stewd prunes, no she fierie phagies [faces?]; my Chambers are swept, my +sinkes are all scowred, the honest shall come in, the knaves shall goe +by; yet will I, maister Constable, goe search through my house, I care +not a sheepes skin. + +_Const_. We are compeld to doe it, mine host; a Gentleman is robd last +night, & we are to search every privy corner. + +_Host_. Mine host is true Mettall, a man of reputation, a true +_Holefernes_, he loves juice of grapes, and welcom, maister Constable. + [_Exit_. + +_Acut_. _Graccus_, how likst thou this? + +_Grac_. Excellent, for now must he needes fall into Constables hands, +and if he have any grace, twil appear in his face, when he shall be +carried through the streete in a white sheet; twill be a good penance +for his fault. + +_Hostis_. Now fortune favour that my husband find him not. + +_Cittie wife_. Heele be horne mad & never able to indure it: why, woman, +if he had but as much man in him as a Maribone, heele take the burthen +uppon his own necke and never discover you. + +_Hostis_. Alas, heere they come, lets away, Gossip. + [_Exeunt_. + +_Phy_. _Fortune_,[313] _my foe, why doost, &c_. + +_Acut_. Oh fye, thats bitter prethe goe comfort him. + +_Grac_. Faith he should be innocent by his garment; Signior, I grieve +for this, but if I can help, looke for it. + +_Phy_. I thanke ye, sir. + +_Const_. We must contaminate our office, pray regard us as little as ye +can. [_Exit_. + +_Accut_. Me thinkes this shold put him quite out of tune now, so let him +goe now to mine Host; theres he and hee, and hee, + + Theres shee, and she, ile have a bout with all: + And critiques honneys sweetest mixt with gal. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +[_Scene_ 2.] + + + _Enter Host, Cornutus_. + +_Host_. Goe to, there's knaves in my house! I know of no Varlets, I +have an eye has his sence, a brain that can reach, I have bene cald +Polititian, my wife is my wife. I am her top, i'me her head: if mine +Host say the word, the Mouse[314] shall be dun. + +_Corn_. Not so my sweet Host, mum, mum, no words against your wife; he +that meanes to live quiet, to sleep in cleane sheetes, a Pillowe under +his head, his dyet drest cleanely, mum, mum, no words against his wife. + +_Host_. Thar't a foole, thar't a foole, bee rulde by mine host, shew thy +self a brave man, of the true seede of _Troy_, a gallant _Agamemnon_; +tha'st a shrew to thy wife, if shee crosse thy brave humors, kicke thy +heele at her huckle[315] bone. + + _Enter Accutus_. + +_Acut_. Gentles, most happily encountered, how good hap hath turnd two +labours into one! I was addrest to both, and at once I have met both, +sure I must intreate that you must not deny. + +_Host_. Say on, my sweete bullie, mine Host will attend thee; speake +roundly to the purpose, and welcome, my bullie. + +_Accut_. Marrie thus, there are[316] great revels & shews preparde to +beautifie the nuptials of _Lentulus_, and _Tully_, in which the +Cittizens have the least share; now, would but you and some others that +I shall collect, + + Joyne hands with me in some queint jest, + Our shew shall deserve grace, and brave the rest. + +_Host_, I have thee, brave spirit, tha'rt of the true seede of _Troy_, +lets be merrie and wise, merrie hearts live long; mine Host, my brave +Host, with his neighbor _Cornutus_ shall bee two of the Maskers, and the +Morrice shall be daunc'd. + +_Cor_. Not so, mine Host. I dare not doe so, t'will distemper my wife, +my house will be unquiet; mum, mum, I know the world, well enough. + +_Host_. Thou shall goe, saies mine Host, merrie hearts live long; +welcome, bullie! mine Host shall make one, so shall my _Cornutus_, for +if I say the word the mouse shall be dun. + + _Enter Bos with Porters_. + +_Porters_. Save ye mine Host, heeres a parcell of Corne was directed to +be delivered at your house. + +_Host_. What ware, my little Atlas, what ware is it? + +2 _Por_. I know not, but i'me sure tis as heavie as a horse and-- + +1 _Por_. I thinke, tis a barrel of oyle, for it spurg'd at my backe. + +_Bos_. It was oyle, for I drew the Tap. + +_Grac_. What, _Bos_, what mak'st thou heere? + +_Acc_. Oh, _chara_[317] _deum soboles, magnum bovis incrementum_. +_Bos_, art there, there? + +_Bos_. As sure as you are there, Signior. + +_Grac_. _Bos_, will ye not forsake your Cabbin? + +_Bos_. Oh sir, he that has not a tilde house must bee glad of a thatch +house. May I crave a suite of you, signior? + +_Grac_. What suit, _Bos_? + +_Bos_. What you please, beggars must not chuse. + +_Accut_. _Bos_ is growne misticall, hee's too dark. + +_Bos_. I speake _Hebrew_ indeede, like _Adam_ and _Eve_, before they fel +to spinning; not a rag. + +_Grac_. What, naked, _Bos_? + +_Bos_. As ye see, will ye heare my suite, signior? + +_Gra_. Drunk, & his cloathes stoln, what theef would do it? + +_Bos_. Any theefe, sir, but no true[318] man. + +_Gra_. Wel, _Bos_, to obtaine a suit at my handes, and to doe some +pennance for your fault, you shall heere maintaine an argument in the +defence of drunkennes. Mine Host shall heere it, ile be your opponent, +_Acutus_ moderator: wilt thou doe it? + +_Host_. A mad merrie grig;[319] all good spirits; wilt thou doe it, +_Bos_? + +_Bos_. Ile doo't. + +_Grac_. Seate yee, heres my place; now, _Bos_, propound. + +_Bos_. Drunkenness is a vertue. + +_Gra_. Your proofe. + +_Bos_. Good drink is full of vertue, +Now full of good drink is drunke; +_Ergo_, to be drunke is to be vertuous. + +_Grac_. I deny it: good drinke is full of vice, +Drinke takes away the sences, +Man that is sencelesse is vitious; +_Ergo_, good drinke is full of vice. + +_Bos_. I deny it still: good drinke makes good bloud, +Good blood needes no Barber, +_Ergo_, tis good to drinke good drinke. + +_Accu_. Hee holdes ye hard, _Graccus_. + +_Bos_. Heeres stronger proofe: drunkennes ingenders with two of the +morrall vertues, and sixe of the lyberall sciences. + +_Gra_. Let him proove that and Ile yeeld. + +_Host_. A mad spirit, yfaith. + +_Bos_. A drunkard is valiant and lyberall; heele outface _Mars_, brave +_Hercules_, and feares not the Devill; then for the most part hee's +liberal, for heele give all the cloathes off his back, though hee weepe +like a Widowe all the day following; nay for the sciences, hee's a good +phisitian, hee vomits himself rarelie and will giue any man else a +vomit, that lookes on him (if he have not a verie good stomacke); +perfect in Geomitrie, for he hangs in the aire by his own conceite, and +feeles no ground; and hee's all musicall, the world turns round with +him, everie face in the painted cloath, shewes like a Fairie dauncing +about him, and everie spar in the house a minstrell. + +_Grac_. Good: forward. + +_Bos_. Then hee's a good Lawyer, for hees never without a _fierie +facies_, & the least _Capias_ will take his _habeas Corpus_: +besides, another point of a Lawyere, heele raile and rave against his +dearest friends and make the world think they are enemies, when the next +day theile laugh, bee fat and drunk together: and a rare Astronomer, for +he has starres twinckling in his eyes in the darkest night when a wise +man discernes none in the firmament, and will take great paines in the +practise, for lay him on his backe in the open fields over night, and +you shal be sure to finde him there in the morning. Have I sed well or +shall I give you a stronger proofe? An honest man will be as good as his +word: Signior _Graccus_ is an honest man, _Ergo_, I must have a new +suite. + +_Accu_. The moderator concludes so, _Graccus_ is overthrown so far as +the damage of the suite, so away with him; come, our fire will out strip +us; mine Host and you wee expect your companies; we must crave absence +awhile better to furnishe our purposes: the time of day to ye. + +_Host_. Farwel, my good bullies, mine Host has sed and the mouse is dun. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + + +[ACT THE FIFTH. + +_Scene_ 1.] + + + _Enter the dumb shew of the marriage, Lentulus, Tully, and the rest. + + Enter Hostis in Getticaes apparel, Getic. in hers, & Mistris Dama_. + +_Hostis_. Come, Gossip, by my troth, I cannot keepe my hood in frame. + +_Cittie wife_. Let me helpe ye, woman. + +_Get_. Sir, we shall be troublesome to ye. + +_Gra_. Oh urge not that I pray ye. + +_Get_. I pray ye what shewe will be heere to night? I have seen the +_Babones_ already, the _Cittie of new Ninivie_[320] and _Julius Caesar_, +acted by the Mammets. + +_Grac_. Oh, gentlewoman, those are showes for those places they are used +in; marry, heere you must expect some rare device, as _Diana_ bathing +herself, being discovered or occulated by _Acteon_, he was tranfigured +to a hart, & werried to death with his own dogs. + +_Cit. W_. Thats prettie in good truth; & must _Diana_, be naked? + +_Gra_. Oh of necessitie, if it be that show. + +_Hostis_. And _Acteon_, too? that's prettie ifaith. + + _Enter Caesar, Lent: Tully, Teren: Flavia_. + +_Caes_. Now, gallant Bridegroomes, and your lovely Brides, +That have ingeminate in endlesse league +Your troth-plight hearts, in your nuptial vowes +Tyed true love knots that nothing can disolve +Till death, that meager pursevant of _Jove_ +That Cancels all bonds: we are to [_sic_] clowdie, +My spirit a typtoe, nothing I could chid so much +As winged time, that gins to free a passage +To his current glasse and crops our day-light, +That mistie night will summon us to rest, +Before we feele the burthen of our eylids. +The time is tedious, wants varietie; +But that I may shew what delightful raptures +Combats my soule to see this union, +And with what boundles joy I doe imbrace it, +We heere commaund all prison gates flye ope, +Freeing all prisoners (traitors all except,) +That poore mens prayers may increase our daies, +And writers circle ye with wreathes of bayes. + +_Grac_. S'foot, _Accutus_, lets lay hold of this to free our captive. + +_Acu_. Content; ile prosecute it. + +_Tul_. Dread soveraigne, heaven witnesse with me +With what bended spirit I have attainde +This height of happinesse; and how unwillingly, +Till heavens decree, _Terentias_ love, and your +Faire consents did meet in one to make +Me Lord thereof: nor shall it add one scruple +Of high thought to my lowly minde. +_Tully_ is _Tully_, parentage poore, the best +An Orator, but equall with the least. + +_Lent_. Oh no doubt, _Accutus_, be the attempt +My perill, his royall promise is past +In that behalfe. My soveraigne, this Gentlemans +Request takes hold upon your gratious promise +For the releasement of a prisoner. + +_Cos_. My promise is irrevocable, take it; +But what is hee and the qualitie of his fault? + +_Acut_. A gentleman, may it please your grace; his fault +Suspition, and most likly innocent. + +_Caes_. He hath freedome, and I prethee let him be brought hither. + + [_Exit[321] Acut_. + +Perhaps in his presence we shall win some smiles, +For I have noted oft in a simple braine, +(Only striving to excell it self) +Hath corrupted language, that hath turnd +To pleasant laughter in juditious eares; +Such may this proove, for now me thinkes +Each minute, wanting sport, doth seeme as long +And teadious, as a feaver: but who doth knowe +The true condition of this _Accutus_? + +_Tully_. My Leige, of him something my knowledge +Can discover; his spirit is free as aire, +His temper temperate, if ought's uneeven +His spleene waies downe [towards] lenitie: but how +Stird by reproofe? ah,[322] then hee's bitter and like +His name _Acute_, vice to him is a foule eye-sore +And could he stifle it in bitterest words he would, +And who so offends to him is paralell; +He will as soon reproove the Caedar state +As the lowe shrub. + + _Enter Acut. and Philaut_. + +_Phy_. Nay, good _Accutus_, let me not enter the presence. + +_Accut_. Oh sir, I assure you your presence will be most acceptable in +the presence at this time then a farre ritcher present. May it please +your majestie, this is the man. + +_Caes_. Let him stand forward. + +_Cit. W_. Alas, we shal see nothing; would I were neere; now hee stands +forwards. + +_Caes_.[323] What qualities hath he, _Accutus_? + +_Accut_. A few good ones (may it please you); he handles a comb wel, a +brush better, and will drink downe a _Dutchman_, & has good skill in +pricksong. + +_Hostis_. I, ile be sworne he had, when he was my Guest. + +_Acut_. Please it your Maiestie to commaund him? + +_Caes_. Oh, we can no otherwise, so well be pleased. + +_Phy_. I beseech your Maiestie, I cannot sing. + +_Tul_. Nay, your denyall will breed but greater expectation. + +_Acut_. I, I, please it your grace to heare? now he begins. + +_Phy_. _My love can sing no other song, but still complaines I did her, +&c_. I beseech your Maiestie to let me goe. + +_Caes_. With all our heart; _Acutus_, give him libertie. + +_Accut_. Goe and for voice sake yee shall sing Ballads in the suburbes, +and if ever heereafter ye chance to purchase a suite, by what your +friends shal leave ye, or the credit of your friend, be not drunk again, +& give him hard words for his labour. [_Exit_. + +_Caes_. What, ist effected, _Graccus_? + +_Gra_. I have wrought the foole; _Scilicet_ comes alone, & his Lady +keepes the women company. + +_Accu_. Tush, weele have a room scantly furnisht with lights that shall +further it. + +_Caes_. What sound is that? + +_Acut_. I, would ye so fain enter? ile further it: please it your +Maiestie to accept what is not worth acceptance? heere are a company to +Gratulate these nuptials, have prepard a show--I feare not worth the +sight--if you shall deeme to give them the beholding of it. + +_Caes_. Else should we wrong their kindnes much. _Accutus_, be it your +care to give them kindest welcome; we cannot recompence their loves +without much beholdings. + +_Acut_. Now for the cunning vizarding of them & tis done. + +_Hostis_. Now we shall beholde the showes. + +_Get_. _Acteon_ and his Dogs, I pray Jupiter. + + _Enter the maske and the Song_. + + _Chaunt birds in everie bush, + The blackbird and the Thrush, + The chirping Nightingale, + The Mavis and Wagtaile, + The Linnet and the Larke, + Oh how they begin, harke, harke_. + +_Scil_. S'lid, there's one bird, I doe not like her voice. + + _Sing againe & Exeunt_. + +_Hostis_. By my troth, me thought one should be my husband, I could even +discerne his voice through the vizard. + +_Cittie wife_. And truely by his head one should be mine. + +_Get_. And surely by his eares one should be my sweet heart. + +_Caes_. _Accutus_,[324] you have deserved much of our love, but might +we not breake the law of sport so farre as to know to whome our thankes +is due, by seeing them unmaskt and the reason of their habits? + +_Acut_. Most willingly, my Soveraigne, ile cause their returne. + +_Hostis_. Oh excellent! now we shal see them unmaskt. [_Exit_. + +_Get_. In troth, I had good hope the formost had bene _Acteon_, when I +saw his hornes. + +_Cit. wif_. Sure the middlemost was my husband, see if he have not a +wen in his forehead. + + _Enter Maskers_. + +_Host_. God blesse thee, noble _Caesar_, & all these brave bridegroomes, +with their fine little dydoppers, that looke before they sleep to throw +away their maiden heads: I am host of the Hobbie, _Cornut_. is my +neighbour, but wele pull of his bopeeper; thou't know me by my nose, I +am a mad merie grig, come to make thy grace laugh; sir _Scillicet_ my +guest; all true canaries, that love juce of grapes, god blesse thy +Maiestie. + +_Acut_. How now, mine Host? + +_Host_. Ha, ha, I spie a jest. Ha, ha, _Cornutus, Cornutus_. + +_Acut_. Nay, mine host, heeres a moate in your eye to [_sic_]. + +_Scil_. S'lid, I hope they have not serv'd me so; by the torrid y'are an +asse, a flat Asse, but the best is I know who did it; twas either you or +some body else; by gad, I remember it as wel as if it were done now. + +_Host_. T[h]ou shalt answer it to my leige, ile not be so misused, ye +have a wrong element, theres fire in my face, weele mount and ascend. +I'me misused, the mad comrades have plaide the knaves. Justice, my brave +_Caesar_. + +_Accut_. Ile answer it, mine Host. Pardon, greate _Caesar_: +The intent was merriment, the reason this: +A true brow bends to see good things a misse, +Men turned to beasts, and such are you mine Host; +Ile show you else, you are a Goate, look here! +Now come you, this is your's, you know it, doe you not? +How old are you? are you not a Goate now? +Shall I teach you how to use a wife and keepe her +In the rank of goodnes? linke her to thy soule, +Devide not _individium_, be her and she thee, +Keepe her from the Serpent, let her not Gad +To everie Gossips congregation; +For there is blushing modestie laide out +And a free rayne to sensual turpitude +Given out at length and lybidinous acts, +Free chat, each giving counsell and sensure +_Capream maritum facere_, such art thou Goate. +Be not so secure. And you, my grand _Cornutus_, +Thou Ram, thou seest thy shame, a pent-house +To thy eye-browes, doost not glorie in it, doost? +Thou'lt lye in a Trucklebed, at thy wives bed feete, +And let her goe a Gossiping while thou sweepest the kitchin. +Look, she shall witnesse[325] against thee. + +_Corn_. My wife there? I must be gone then. + +_Acut_. Oh fye, betray not thy self so grossely. + +_Cor_. I pray ye pardon me. + +_Accut_. I dare not. + +_Cor_. I sir, but afterward may come after claps. I know the world well +enough. + +_Accut_. Mischiefe of the Devill, be man, not all beast, do not +lye,----both sheetes doe not. + +_Cit. w_. I warrant this fellow has as many eies as a Lamprey, hee could +never see so farre into the world else. + +_Accu_. And thou pure asse, meere asse, thy eares become thee well, +yfaith. + +_Scil_. I think you merit to make a Musition of me, you furnish me with +a good eare. + +_Accut_. Thou deservdst it, thou't make thy self a Cucckold, be it but +for company sake; thou hast long eares, and thinkest them hornes, thy +onceites cuckolds thee, thou art jealious if thou seest thy wives ---- +with another mans palme. And foole, thy state in that sense is the best; +thou art claspt with simplicitie, (a great badge of honestie,) for the +poore foole has pawnd her cloathes to redeeme thy unthriftines; be +jealious no more unlesse thou weare thine eares still, for all shall be +well, and you shall have your puppie againe. + +_Get_. Shall I? by my troth, I shall be beholding to you then. + +_Acu_. Now to ye all, be firmaments to stars, +Be stars to Firmaments, and, as you are +Splendent, so be fixed, not wandering, nor +Irregular, both keeping course together. +Shine not in pride and gorgeous attire, +When clouds doe faile the pole where thou art fixt. +Obey, cherish, honor, be kinde enough, +But let them weare no changeable stuffe; +Keepe them, as shall become your state, +Comely, and to creepe ere they goe. +Let them partake your joyes and weep with you, +Curle not the snarles that dwell upon these browes. +In all things be you kinde: of all enough, +But let them weare no changeable stuffe. + +_Host_. Fore God a mad spirit. + +_Hostis_. Will ye beeleeve what such a bisket brain'd fellow as this +saies? he has a mouth like a double cannon, the report will be heard all +ore the towne. + +_Cittie wife_. I warrant he ranne mad for love, because no good face +could indure the sight of him, and ever since he railes against women +like a whot-shot. + +_Len_. Nay, nay, we must have all friendes, +Jarring discords are no marriage musick; +Throw not Hymen in a cuckstoole; dimple +Your furrowed browes; since all but mirth was ment, +Let us not then conclude in discontent, +Say, shall we all +In friendly straine measure our paces to bed-ward? + +_Tul_. Will _Terentia_ follow? + +_Teren_. If _Tully_ be her Leader. + +_Host_. Good bloods, good spirits, let me answer for all, none speake +but mine Host; hee has his pols, and his aedypols, his times and his +tricks, his quirkes, and his quilits, and his demise and dementions. God +blesse thee, noble _Caesar_, and all these brave spirits! I am Host of +the Hobby, _Cornutus_ is my neighbour, _Graccus_, a mad spirit, +_Accutus_ is my friend, Sir _Scillicet_ is my guest; al mad comrades of +the true seede of _Troy_, that love juce of Grapes; we are all true +friends, merrie harts live long, let Pipers strike up, ile daunce my +cinquepace, cut aloft my brave capers, whirle about my toe, doe my +tricks above ground, ile kisse my sweet hostesse, make a curtesie to thy +grace; God blesse thy Maiestie and the Mouse shall be dun. + +_Cor_. Come wife, will you dance? + +_Wife_. Ile not daunce, I, must you come to Court to have hornes set on +your head? I could have done that at home. + +_Host_. I, I, be rulde at this time; what? for one merrie day wele find +a whole moone at midsommer. + + _Daunce_. + +_Caes_. Gentles, wee thanke yee all, the night hath spent +His youth, and drowsie _Morpheus_ bids us battell. +We will defie him still, weele keep him out +While we have power to doe it. Sound +Your loudest noise: set forward to our chamber. + +_Gra_. Advance your light. + +_Caes_. Good rest to all. + +_Omn_. God give your grace God-night. + + [_Exeunt_. + + +FINIS. + + + + +APPENDIX. + + +VOL. II. _Tragedy of Sir John Van Olden Barnavelt_. In _The Athenaeum_ +of January 19, 1884, my friend, Mr. S.L. Lee, pointed out that the first +performance of this remarkable play took place in August, 1619. I had +thrown out the suggestion that the play was produced at Michaelmas, +1619. "I have been fortunate enough," says Mr. Lee, "to meet with +passages in the State Papers that give us positive information on this +point. In two letters from Thomas Locke to Carleton, the English +ambassador at the Hague, I have found accounts of the circumstances +under which the tragedy was first performed in London. The earlier +passage runs as follows:--'The Players heere', writes Locke in London on +August 14th, 1619, 'were bringing of Barnevelt vpon the stage, and had +bestowed a great deale of mony to prepare all things for the purpose, +but at th'instant were prohibited by my Lo: of London' (Domestic State +Papers, James I., vol. cx. No. 18). The play was thus ready on August +14th, 1619, and its performance was hindered by John King, Bishop of +London. The excitement that the Arminian controversy had excited in +England would sufficiently account for the prohibition. But the bishop +did not persist in his obstruction. On August 27th following Locke tells +a different story. His words are: 'Our players haue fownd the meanes to +goe through with the play of Barnevelt, and it hath had many spectators +and receaued applause: yet some say that (according to the proverbe) the +diuill is not so bad as he is painted, and that Barnavelt should +perswade Ledenberg to make away himself (when he came to see him after +he was prisoner) to prevent the discovrie of the plott, and to tell him +that when they were both dead (as though he meant to do the like) they +might sift it out of their ashes, was thought to be a point strayned. +When Barnevelt vnderstood of Ledenberg's death he comforted himself, +which before he refused to do, but when he perceaueth himself to be +arested, then he hath no remedie, but with all speede biddeth his wife +send to the Fr: Ambr: which she did and he spake for him, &c.' (Domestic +State Papers, James I., vol. cx. No. 37). Locke is here refering to +episodes occurring in the play from the third act onwards. In Act III. +sc. iv. Leidenberch is visited in prison by Barnavelt, who bids him 'dye +willingly, dye sodainely and bravely,' and adds, 'So will I: then let +'em sift our Actions from our ashes,'--words that Locke roughly quotes +(see p. 262 of Mr. Bullen's 'Old Plays,' vol. ii.). The first +performance of the tragedy we may thus assign to a day immediately +preceding the 27th of August, 1619. When we remember that Barnavelt was +executed on May 13th of the same year, we have in this play another +striking instance of the literal interpretation given by dramatists of +the day to Hamlet's definition of the purpose of playing." + +I have tried hard to decipher the passages that are scored through +(probably by the censor's pen) in the MS., but hitherto I have not had +much success. + +Vol. III.--_The Wisdome of Doctor Dodypoll_. + +The stealing of an enchanter's cup at a fairy feast by a peasant is a +favourite subject of fairy mythology. See Ritson's _Fairy Tales_. + +_The Distracted Emperor_. + +William Tyndale in his _Practyse of Prelates_, 1530, relates the wild +legend of Charlemagne's dotage:--"And beyond all that, the saying is +that in his old age a whore had so bewitched him with a ring and a pearl +in it and I wot not what imagery graven therein, that he went a salt +after her as a dog after a bitch and the dotehead was beside himself and +whole out of his mind: insomuch that when the whore was dead he could +not depart from the dead corpse but caused it to be embalmed and to be +carried with him whithersoever he went, so that all the world wondered +at him; till at the last his lords accombered with carrying her from +place to place and ashamed that so old a man, so great an emperor, and +such a most Christian king, on whom and on whose deeds every man's eyes +were set, should dote on a dead whore, took counsel what should be the +cause: and it was concluded that it must needs be by enchantment. Then +they went unto the coffin, and opened it, and sought and found this ring +on her finger; which one of the lords took off, and put it on his own +finger. When the ring was off, he commanded to bury her, regarding her +no longer. Nevertheless he cast a fantasy unto this lord, and began to +dote as fast on him, so that he might never be out of sight; but where +our Charles was, there must that lord also be; and what Charles did, +that must he be privy unto: until that this lord, perceiving that it +came because of this enchanted ring, for very pain and tediousness took +and cast it into a well at Acon [Aix la Chapelle], in Dutchland. And +after that the ring was in the well, the emperor could never depart from +the town; but in the said place where the ring was cast, though it were +a foul morass, yet he built a goodly monastery in the worship of our +lady, and thither brought relics from whence he could get them, and +pardons to sanctify the place, and to make it more haunted. And there he +lieth, and is a saint, as right is: for he did for Christ's Vicar as +much as the great Turk for Mahomet; but to save his holiness, that he +might be canonised for a saint, they feign that his abiding there so +continually was for the hot-baths' sake which be there." (_Works_, ed. +Parker Society, ii. 265.) + +Burton in the _Anatomy of Melancholy_, Part iii., Sect. 2, Memb. 3, +Subs. 5, briefly narrates the story. + +In the first scene of the _Distracted Emperor_, l. 17, for the reading +of the MS. "Can propp thy mynde, fortune's shame upon thee!" we should +undoubtedly substitute "Can propp thy ruynde fortunes? shame upon thee!" + +Dr. Reinhold Köhler of Weimar explains once for all the enigmatical +letters at the end of the play:--"The line denotes: + + Nella fidelta finiro _la vita_. + +For as the letters [Greeek: ph d ph n r] must be read by their Greek +names, so must also the B--better written [Greek: B]--be read by its +Greek name [Greek: Baeta], or by Neo-Greek pronunciation _vita_. With +this meaning the line is given in the work of Etienne Tabourot 'Les +Bizarrures du Seigneur des Accords,' which is said to have appeared +first in 1572 or 1582, in Chap. ii. on 'rébus par lettres.' I only know +the passage by a quotation in an interesting work by Johannes Ochmann +'Zur Kentniss der Rebus,' Oppeln, 1861, p. 18. I have also found our +rebus in a German novel entitled 'The Wonderful Life of the Merry +Hazard,' Cosmopoli, 1706. In this book, p. 282, it is related that a +priest wrote as a souvenir in Hazard's album:-- + + 'Nella [Greek: phd]. [Greek: phnr] la [Greek: B]. + As an assurance of his heart + That knows no joking + It said' ... ... + +And further (p. 283):--'Hazard knew not what to make of these mere Greek +letters and spent several days in fruitless thoughts, until the priest +let him understand that he was only to pronounce them, then he would +hear from the sounds that it was Italian and meant: Nella fideltá finiró +la vita.' This is the solution of the various hypotheses that have been +set up about the meaning of 'la B.'" + +Vol. IV.--_Everie Woman in her Humor_. + +P. 312 "_Phy_. Boy!--_Sleepe wayward thoughts_." The words "sleepe +wayward thoughts" are from a song in Dowland's _First Book of Songs or +Airs of four parts_, 1597. In Oliphant's _Musa Madrigalesca_ the song is +given thus:-- + + "Sleep, wayward thoughts, and rest you with my love; + Let not my love be with my love displeased; + Touch not, proud hands, lest you her anger move, + But pine you with my longings long diseased. + Thus, while she sleeps, I sorrow for her sake; + So sleeps my love--and yet my love doth wake. + + But, oh! the fury of my restless fear, + The hidden anguish of my chaste desires; + The glories and the beauties that appear + Between her brows, near Cupid's closed fires! + Sleep, dainty love, while I sigh for thy sake; + So sleeps my love,--and yet my love doth wake." + +P.335. "_For I did but kisse her_."--Mr. Ebsworth kindly informs me that +these words are from a song (No. 19) in _The First Booke of Songs and +Ayres_ (1601?) composed by Robert Jones. The song runs:-- + + "My Mistris sings no other song + But stil complains I did her wrong. + Beleeue her not, it was not so, + I did but kiss her and let her go. + + And now she sweares I did, but what, + Nay, nay, I must not tell you that: + And yet I will, it is so sweete, + As teehee tahha when louers meet. + + But womens words they are heedlesse, + To tell you more it is needlesse: + I ranne and caught her by the arme + And then I kist her, this was no harme. + + But she alas is angrie still, + Which sheweth but a womans will: + She bites the lippe and cries fie, fie, + And kissing sweetly away she doth flie. + + Yet sure her lookes bewraies content + And cunningly her bra[w]les are meant: + As louers use to play and sport, + When time and leisure is too short." + +On p. 373 Philautus gives another quotation from the same song. + +P. 340. "_The fryer was in the_--." Mr. Ebsworth writes:--"This song is +extant among the Pepysian Ballads (the missing word is equivalent to +'Jakes'): original of 'The Friar in the Well.'" + + + + +INDEX. + + +Academic playwrights +Accomodate +Addition +Adorning +Adson's new ayres +Agamemnon in the play +Agrippina +Alablaster ( = alabaster) +_Alchemist_, allusion to the play of the +A life ( = as my life) +Almarado (?) +Ambergreece +Andirons ("The andirons were the ornamental irons on each side of the + hearth in old houses, which were accompanied with small rests for + the ends of the logs."--_Halliwell_.) +Anotomye (For the spelling compare Dekker's Satiromastix-- + "because + Mine enemies with sharpe and searching eyes + Looke through and through me, carving my poore labours + Like an _Anatomy_."--_Dramatic Works_, ed. Pearson, i. 197.) +Anything for a quiett lyfe +Aphorisme +Aporn +Apple-squier +Arch-pillers +Argentum potabile +Artillery Garden +Artire +Ascapart +Assoyle + +Bables +Babyes +Back side +Bacon, Roger +Baffeld ( = treated ignominiously) +Bainardes Castle +Bale of dice +Bandogs +Banks' horse +Bantam +Barleybreak +Basolas manos +Basses +Bastard +Bavyn +Bayting +Beare a braine +Beetle +Bermudas +Berwick, pacification of +Besognio +Best hand, buy at the +Bezoar +Bilbo mettle +Biron, Maréchal de +Bisseling +Blacke and blewe +Blacke gard +Black Jacks +Bob'd +Bombards +_Bonos nocthus_ +Booke ("Williams craves his booke") +Borachos +Bossed +Bottom, +Brass, coinage of +Braule +Braunched +Braves +Bree +Broad cloth, exportation of +Brond +Browne, Sir Thomas, quoted +Browne-bastard +Build a sconce.--See Sconce +Bull (the executioner) +Bullets wrapt in fire +Bullyes +Bumbarrels +Bu'oy +Burnt +Buskes +Busse, the (Hertogenbosch taken in 1629, after a memorable siege, by + Frederick Henry, Prince of Orange) + +Cage (prison) +Cales +_Calisto_, MS. play composed of scenes from Heywood's _Golden Age and + Silver Age_ +Canaries +Cap-case +Carack +Carbonado +Cardeq +Cardicue +Caroach +Carrackes +Carry coals +Case +Cast-of Merlins +Castrell +Catamountaine +Cater-trey +Caull +Cautelous +Censure +Champion +Chapman, George +Choake-peare +Chrisome +Cinque pace +Citie of new Ninivie +Clapdish +Closse contryvances +Coate +Cockerell +Coll +Comparisons are odorous +Consort +Convertite +Cooling carde +Coranta +Cornutus +Covent +Crak't +Crase +Cricket +Cupboard of plate ( = movable side-board) +Cut-beaten-sattyn (Cf. Marlowe's _Faustus_--"_beaten_ silk.") +Cutt-boy + +Daborne, Robert +Dametas +Day, John +Dead paies +Debosht ( = debauched) +Deneere +Depart +Detest +Devide +Dewse ace +Diamonds softened by goat's blood +Dicker +Diet-bread +Diety (For the spelling cf. Rowley's _All's Lost by Lust_, 1633, + sig. C. 4: + "Can lust be cal'd love? then let man seeke hell, + For there that fiery _diety_ doth dwell." + Again in the same play, sig. D. 2, we have-- + "Descend thy spheare, thou burning _Diety_." + John Stephens in his _Character of a Page_ [_Essayes and Characters_, + 1615] speaks of "Cupid's _diety_.") +Dion Cassius, quoted +Diophoratick +Disgestion +Disguest +Division +Doggshead +Door ("Keep the door" = act as a pander) +Doorkeeper +Dorsers +Dowland, John +Draw drie foote +Ducke +Duns the mouse +Dydoppers (dabchicks) + +Eare picker ( = barber) +_Edmond Ironside_, MS. chronicle-play +Empresas +Eringoes +Estridge +Exclaimes + +Family of Love +Fang +_Fatal Maryage_, MS. play +Father-in-law +Feare no colours +Feeres +Felt locks +Feltham's _Resolves_ +Fend ( = make shift with) +Fins (a very doubtful correction for _sins_) +Fisguigge +Flat cap +Flea ( = flay) +Fletcher, John, MS. copy of his _Elder Brother_; his share in the + authorship of _Sir John Van Olden Barnavelt_ +Flewd +Fly boat (see _Addenda_ to vol. i.) +Fool (play on the words _fool_ and _fowl_) +Fooles paradysse +_For I did but kisse her_ (See _Appendix_) +_Fortune my foe_ +Fox +Foxd +Free +Fry(?) +Futra + +Galleyfoist +German fencer +Getes +Ghosts crying _Vindicta_ +Gibb ("A male-cat, now generally applied to one that has been + castrated."--_Halliwell_.) +Giglot +Ginges +Glapthorne, quoted; the play of _The Lady Mother_ identical with + Glapthorne's _Noble Trial_ +Glass, patent for making +Gleeke +Gods dynes +Goll +Gondarino +Gossips +Grandoes +Groaning cake +Guarded ( = trimmed) +Gumd taffety that will not fret (See Nares' _Glossary, s_., + gumm'd velvet.) +Gundelet +Gyges + +Haberdine +Hadiwist +Hanging Tune +Hatto, Bishop +Head ("how fell ye out all a head?") +Hell +Hell, another couple in +Hemming +Hesperides ( = the garden of the Hesperides) +Heywood, Thomas, his play of _The Captives_; lines at the end of his + _Royal King and Loyal Subject_ identical with the Address _To the + Reader_ at the end of H. Shirley's _Martyd Souldier_; the play of + _Dick of Devonshire_ tentatively assigned to him; the MS. play + _Calisto_ composed of scenes from his _Golden Age and Silver Age_ +Hocas pocas +Holland's Leaguer +Horace, quoted (In the lines + "Now die your pleasures, and the dayes you pray + Your rimes and loves and jests will take away" + are imitated from Horace's _Ars Poetica_, ll. 55-6,-- + "Singula de nobis anni praedantur euntes; + Eripuere jocos, Venerem, convivia, ludum.") +Hott shotts +Hounslow Heath, Sword-blade manufactory at +Huckle bone +Huffing +Hunts up +Hypostacies + +Imbrocados (thrusts over the arm in fencing) +Incontinent +Iron mills +It ( = its) + +Jacke +Jiggs +Julius Caesar (puppet-show of) +Juvenal quoted + +Keepe +Knight a the post +Knowes me no more then the begger knowes his dish know him as well as + the begger, &c. +Kramis time + +Lacrymae +Ladies Downfall +_Lady Mother_, comedy by Glapthorne (identical with _The Noble Trial_, + entered in Stationers' Registers in 1660) +Lanch (unnecessarily altered to _lance_ in the text) +_Lancheinge of the May_, MS. play by W.M. Gent. +Lapwing +Larroones +Lather ( = ladder) (In _Women beware Women_ Middleton plays on the word:-- + "_Fab_. When she was invited to an early wedding, + She'd dress her head o'ernight, sponge up herself, + And give her neck three _lathers_. + _Gaar_. Ne'er a halter.") +Laugh and lye downe +Launcepresado +Law, the spider's cobweb +Legerity +Letters of mart +Leveret +Limbo +Line of life +Linstock +Long haire, treatise against (An allusion to William Prynne's tract + _The Unlovelinesse of Love-Lockes_.) +_Loves Changelings Changed_, MS. play founded on Sidney's Arcadia +Low Country Leaguer +Lustique + +Machlaean +Macrios +Magical weed +Makarell +Make ready +March beere +Marlins +Marlowe's _Hero and Leander_ quoted +Marriage, restrained by law at certain seasons +Martial quoted +Mary muffe +Masque (MS.) containing a long passage that is found in Chapman's + _Byron's Tragedie_ +Massinger, his share in the authorship of _Sir John Van Olden Barnavelt_ +Mawmets ( = puppets) +Mawmett ( = Mahomet) +Meath (A curious corruption of _Mentz_. Old printers distorted foreign + names in an extraordinary manner.) +Mechall +Mention ( = dimension) +Mew +Middleton, quotation from his _Family of Love_ +Minikin ( = fiddle) +Mistris +Moe +Monthes mind +Mooncalf +More hayre than wit +Morglay +Mosch +Mother +Motion ( = suggestion, proposal) +Mouse +Much (ironical) +Mumchance +Muscadine +Muschatoes ( = moustaches) +Mushrumps ( = mushrooms) +Music played between the acts +Muskadine with an egg +_My Love can sing no other song_ (See _Appendix_) +Mynsatives + +Nephewes +Nero, his poems +Newmarket +Nifle +Night rail +Ninivie, motion of +Noddy + +Old +Orphant +Outcryes +Outface with a card of ten +Overseene +Owe + +Pantables ( = slippers) +Paris Garden ditch +Pavine +Pedlars' French +Peele's _Hunting of Cupid_ +Peeterman +Persius quoted +Pharo, by the life of (This oath occurs in _first_ edition, 1601, of + _Every Man in his Humour_: in the revised edition it was altered to + "by the _foot_ of Pharaoh.") +Picardo +Pick-hatch +Pilchers +Pimblico +Pinks +Pioner +Plancher +Planet ("Some Planet striketh him") +Plashd +Platform +Plautus' _Rudens_, plot of Heywood's play _The Captives_ drawn from: + quotations from +Pomander +Poore Jhon +_Poore Man's Comfort_ (play by Robert Daborne), MS. copy of +Portage (Undoubtedly we should read _partage_.) +Pot-gun +Pricke-song +Prick and prayse ( = praise of excellence) +Princkocke +Proclamation that the gentry should reside at their mansions in the + country +Proculus +Prologue spoken by a woman +Protest, affected use of the word (See Dyce's _Shakespeare Glossary_.) +Puckfist +Puerelis +Puisne +Puisnes of the Inne +Pumpion +Pun[to] reversos ( = back-handed strokes in fencing) +Push +Putt a girdle round about the world +Puttock + +Quale + +Rabbit-suckers +Rabby Roses (The reference is, probably, to the Arabian physician + Rhazes.) +Racke +Rape, punishment for +Rascal +Rats rhymed to death +Refuse me +Regalias +Rest ("our rest we set") +Rest for every slave to pull at +Reverent ( = reverend) +_Richard II_., MS. play +Ride the wild mare (a rustic sport) +Rincht ( = rinsed) +Road +Roaring boys ( = roisterers) +Rochet +Rope-ripes +Rosemary +Rotten hares +Rudelesse vaile +Russeting + +Sackerson (In the footnote read H_u_nkes for H_a_nkes.) +Salt, sit beneath the +Sarreverence +Scandalum magnatum +Sconce, build a (I supposed that the expression meant "fix a candle in a + candlestick," but I am indebted to Mr. George L. Apperson for the true + explanation. He writes:--"In Dyche's _Dictionary_ (I quote from ed. + 1748) is the verb _sconce_, one of the definitions being--'a cant term + for running up a score at an alehouse or tavern'--with which cf. + Goldsmith's Essays (1765), viii, 'He ran into debt with everybody that + would trust him, and none could _build a sconce_ better than he.' This + explanation seems to me to make Thomas's remark a very characteristic + one." See Grose's _Classical Dictionary of the vulgar tongue_.) +Scottish witch +Scythians +Sentronell ( = centinel) +Seven deadly sinnes, pageant of +Shakespeare imitated; his use of the word road ("This Doll Tearsheet + should be some road") illustrated; mentioned in _Captain Underwit_ +Sharpe, play at. (Cf. _Swetnam the Woman Hater_, 1620, sig. G. 3:-- + "But cunning Cupid forecast me to recoile: + For when he _plaid at sharpe_ I had the foyle.") +Shellain +Sherryes +Ship, the great +Shipwreck by land +Shirley, James, author of _Captain Underwit_; quoted +Shoulder pack't +Shrovetide, hens thrashed at +Shrove Tuesday, riotous conduct of apprentices on +Sib +Signeor No +_Sister awake! close not your eyes!_ +Sister's thread +_Sleep, wayward thoughts_ (See _Appendix_) +Slug +Smell-feast +Snaphance +Sowse +Spanish fig +Sparabiles +Spend +Spenser, imitated +Spurne-point +Stafford's lawe +Stand on poynts +Standage +Stavesucre ( = staves-acre) +Steccadoes ( = stoccadoes, thrusts in fencing) +Stewd prunes +Stigmaticke +Stoope +Striker +Strive curtesies ( = stand upon ceremony) +Suds, in the +Suetonius, quoted +Sure +Surreverence + +Tacitus, quoted +Take me with you +Take in +Tarleton +Tarriers +_Tell Tale, the_, (MS. play) +Tent +Termagant +_The Fryer was in the_--(See _Appendix_) +Three Cranes +Thumb, to bite the +Ticktacks +Tickle minikin ( = play on the fiddle) +Timeless ( = untimely) +Tobacco (price of) +Toot +Totter +Totter'd +Traind band +Transportation of ordnance +Trevants. (_Trevant_ is a corruption of _Germ. Traban_ = guard.) +Trewe ( = honest) +Tripennies +Trondling +Trouses +True man +Trundle bed +Trunk-hose +Tub-hunter ( = parasite) +Turnops +_Two Noble Ladyes_. (The plot is partly founded on Calderon's + _Magico Prodigioso_.) + +Uncouth +Unicorn's horn +Unreadie +Upper stage +Ure + +Varlet +Vaunt-currying +Venetian +Verjuice made by stamping crab-apples +Vie +Vild +Virgil, quoted +Virginal +Virginall Jacks + +Warning-peece +Wax, limbes mad[e] out of +Webster's _White Devil_, allusion to +Welshmen proud of their gentility +Wet finger +What make you here? +_What thing is Love?_ +Whifflers +Whisht +White sonne +Whytinge mopp +Widgeing +Wildfowl ("Cut up wildfowl"--a slang expression) +Wilding +Windmills at Finsbury (See Stow's _Survey_, b. iii, p. 70, ed. 1720.) +Wit without money +Woad, patents for planting of ("_Woad_ is an herbe brought from the + parts of Tolouse in France, and from Spaine, much used and very + necessary in the dying of wollen cloath."--Cowell's _Interpreter_.) +_Woman Hater, the_ +Wonning +Woodcock ( = simpleton) + +Zygne ("Untill the zygne be gone below the hart") + + + + +FOOTNOTES: + + +[1] "The tragedy of Sir John Van Olden Barnavelt. Herdrukt naar de +Vitgrave van A.H. Bullen, met een Inleidung van R. Fruin. 'sGravenhage, +Martinus Nijhoff, 1884," 8vo., pp. xxxiii. 95. + +[2] I fondly hoped that vol. iii. was immaculate; but on p. 21, last +line, I find that _spring_ has been misprinted _soring_. On p. 290, l. 3, +_sewe_ is a misprint for _serve_. + +[3] It is curious that the next entry refers to a piece by Chettle +called "The Orphanes Tragedy," a title which at once reminds us of the +second plot of Yarington's play. + +[4] The actor who took the part of _Truth_ is to be in readiness to +enter: he comes forward presently. In plays printed from play-house +copies, stage-directions are frequently given in advance. + +[5] _Timeless_ in the sense of _untimely_ occurs in Marlowe, &c. + +[6] Old ed. "attended." + +[7] The old form of _guests_. + +[8] The word _fairing_ (i.e. a present brought home from a fair) is +explained by the fact that Beech was murdered on Bartholomew eve ("Tis +Friday night besides and Bartholomew eve"). Bartholomew Fair was held +the next day. + +[9] A famous tavern in Thames Street. + +[10] Proposal. + +[11] Nares supposed that the expression _fear no colours_ was "probably +at first a military expression, to fear no enemy. So Shakespeare derives +it [_Twelfth Night_, i. 5], and, though the passage is comic, it is +likely to be right." + +[12] "Here on" = hear one. + +[13] i.e. what are you doing here so late? + +[14] Old ed. "gentleman." + +[15] Old ed. "ends." + +[16] Mr. Rendle in his interesting account of the _Bankside and the +Globe Playhouse_ (appended to Pt. II. of Mr. Furnivall's edition of +Harrison's _England_) says:--"As to the features of the locality we may +note that it was intersected in all directions with streams, not shown +in the map of the manor, except _Utburne_, the _Outbourne_ possibly; and +that bridges abounded." + +[17] Use. + +[18] The music between the acts. + +[19] Pert youth. + +[20] i.e. thread of life. (An expression borrowed from palmistry: _line +of life_ was the name for one of the lines in the hand.) + +[21] Rashers. + +[22] See note [105] in Vol. III. + +[23] Old ed. "safely." + +[24] Bushes. In I _Henry IV_., 5, i., we have the adjective _busky_. +Spenser uses the subst. _busket_ (Fr. _bosquet_). + +[25] I can make nothing of this word, and suspect we should read "cry." + +[26] Quy. flewed (i.e. with large chaps)? Perhaps (as Mr. Fleay +suggests) flocked = flecked. + +[27] Old ed. "fathers." + +[28] i.e. had I known. "A common exclamation of those who repented of +anything unadvisedly undertaken."--Nares. + +[29] 4to. "tell." + +[30] Equivalent to a dissyllable (unless we read "damnèd"). + +[31] Baynard's Castle, below St. Paul's, was built by a certain Baynard +who came in the train of William the Conqueror. It was rebuilt by +Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester, and was finally consumed in the Great Fire +of London. + +[32] Perhaps this speech should be printed as verse. + +[33] Own. + +[34] 4to. "this." + +[35] 4to. "This." + +[36] 4to. "misguiseth." + +[37] _White_ was a term of endearment,--as in the common expression +_white boy_. + +[38] 4to. "ease-dropping." + +[39] Dwell. + +[40] Deformed, ugly (lit. branded with an iron). + +[41] Cf. Middleton's _Trick to Catch the Old One_, V. 2:-- + + "And ne'er start + To be let blood _though sign be at heart_;" + +on which passage Dyce remarks that "according to the directions for +bleeding in old almanacs blood was to be taken from particular parts +under particular planets." + +[42] Is admitted to "benefit of clergy." Harrison, in his _Description +of England_, tells us that those who "are saved by their bookes and +cleargie, are burned in the left hand, vpon the brawne of the thombe +with an hot iron, so that if they be apprehended againe, that marke +bewraieth them to have beene arraigned of fellonie before, whereby they +are sure at that time to have no mercie. I doo not read that this +custome of saving by the booke is vsed anie where else then in England; +neither doo I find (after much diligent inquirie) what Saxon prince +ordeined that lawe" (Book II. cap. xi.). See the article _Clergie_ in +Cowell's _Interpreter_ (1637). + +[43] Brand. + +[44] Therefore acted by the Queen of Bohemia's Company who at that time +occupied the Cockpit.--F.G. Fleay. + +[45] Some seven or eight years ago I pointed out in _Notes and Queries_ +that the idea of this droll incident was taken from a passage of Timaeus +of Tauromenium (see Athenaeus, _Deipnosoph_., ii. 5); but others--as I +afterwards learned--had anticipated my discovery. + +[46] This and the following speech are marked for omission in the MS. + +[47] The words "Not so, frend," are scored through. + +[48] The words "_Frenshe_ monster" are scored through. + +[49] "Makarel" = maquerelle (a bawd). + +[50] This passage illustrates 2 _Henry IV_., iv. 2:--"This Doll +Tearsheet should be some _road_." See my note on Middleton's _Your Five +Gallants_ (Works, vol. iii. p. 220). + +[51] Small boats with narrow sterns (Fr. pinque). Cf. Heywood's _I +Edward IV_.:--"Commend me to blacke _Luce_, bouncing _Bess_, and lusty +_Kate_, and the other pretty morsels of man's flesh. Farewell, _pink_ +and pinnace, flibote and carvel, _Turnbull_ and _Spittal_" +(Works, i. 38). + +[52] Fast-sailing vessels (Span, filibote). + +[53] The words "that ... husband" are scored through in the MS. + +[54] This and the two following lines are marked for omission. + +[55] The next word is illegible. + +[56] A long barge with oars. + +[57] "Misreated" = misrated? But the reading of the MS. is not plain. + +[58] "Do intend" is a correction in the MS. for "have bespoeke." + +[59] Old spelling of _convent_. + +[60] Cautious. + +[61] This speech is scored through. + +[62] The reading of the MS. is not clear. + +[63] Again I am doubtful about the reading of the MS. + +[64] "A shewer" = ashore. + +[65] Some letters are cut away in the MS. Perhaps Mildew was represented +with _Judas-coloured_ (i.e. red) hair; but Raphael presently describes +him as "graye and hoary," and afterwards we are told that he was bald. + +[66] Search, probe. + +[67] The stage-direction is not marked in the MS. + +[68] Track by the scent. + +[69] There is no stage-direction in the old copy. + +[70] This and the next three lines are marked for omission. + +[71] In this soliloquy Heywood closely follows Plautus: see _Rudens_, +i. 3, "Hanccine ego partem capio ob pietatem praecipuam," &c. + +[72] Three cancelled lines follow in the MS.:-- + + "So if you ... any mercy for him, + Oh if there be left any mercy for him + Nowe in these bryny waves made cleane for heaven." + +[73] This and the eight following lines appear to be marked for omission +in the MS. + +[74] This line is scored through in the MS. + +[75] This line is scored through in the MS. + +[76] The words "Some faggotts ... cloathes" are scored through in the MS. + +[77] "Monthes mind" = strong desire. + +[78] So the MS. But I am tempted to read, at Mr. Fleay's suggestion, +"steeples." + +[79] Cf. _Rudens_, ii. 1:-- + + "Cibum captamus e mari: sin eventus non venit, + Neque quidquam captum est piscium, salsi lautique pure, + Domum redimus clanculum, dormimus incoenati." + +[80] The words "hence we may ... wretched lyfe" are scored through in +the MS. + +[81] In the MS. the words "whither his frend travelled" are scored +through. + +[82] In the MS. follow some words that have been cancelled:--"Only, +for ought I can perceive all to no purpose, but understand of no such +people. But what are these things that have slipt us? No countrie shall +slippe me." + +[83] "Salvete, fures maritimi." _Rudens_, ii. 2. + +[84] Honest. + +[85] "_Trach_. Ecquem + Recalvum ac silonem senem, statutum, ventriosum, + Tortis superciliis, contracta fronte, fraudulentum, + Deorum odium atque hominum, malum, mali vitii probrique plenum, + Qui duceret mulierculas duas secum, satis venustas? + + _Pisc_. Cum istiusmodi virtutibus operisque natus qui sit, + Eum quidem ad carnificem est aequius quam ad Venerem + commeare."--_Rudens_, ii. 2. + +[86] See the Introduction. + +[87] In the MS. follow some cancelled words:--"Il fyrst in and see her +bycause I will bee suer tis shee. Oh, _Mercury_, that I had thy winges +tyde to my heeles." + +[88] "Who ever lov'd," &c.--A well-known line from Marlowe's _Hero and +Leander_. + +[89] There is no stage-direction in the MS. + +[90] Adulterous.--So Heywood in _The English Traveller_, iii. 1,-- +"Pollute the Nuptiall bed with _Michall_ [i.e. mechal] sinne." Again +in Heywood's _Rape of Lucreece_, "Men call in witness of your _mechall_ +sin." + +[91] This speech is scored through in the MS. + +[92] "Whytinge mopp" = young whiting. The term was often applied to a +girl. See Nares' _Glossary_. + +[93] In the MS. follow two lines that have been scored through:-- + + "And not deteine, for feare t'bee to my cost, + Though both my kisse and all my paynes be lost." + +[94] _Widgeon_ (like _woodcock_) is a term for a simpleton. + +[95] In the MS. follow two lines which have been so effectually scored +through that I can only read an occasional word. + +[96] In the MS. follows a cancelled passage:-- + + "_Mild_ Had not thy greater fraught bin shipt with myne + We had never been oversett. + + _Sarl_. I rather think + Had ... when fyrst the shippe began to dance + ... thrown all the curst Lading over-board + Wee had still light and tight." + +[97] The word _burn_ is frequently used in an indelicate sense. + +[98] Keys of the virginal (a musical instrument resembling a spinnet). + +[99] This speech is scored through in the MS. + +[100] The words "Heeres sweet stuffe!" are scored through. + +[101] This line is scored through. + +[102] Kill. + +[103] In the left-hand margin of the MS. is a stage-direction in +advance:--"_Fellowes ready. Palestra, Scribonia, with Godfrey, Mildew, +Sarly_." + +[104] Not marked in the MS. + +[105] MS. "when." + +[106] In the left-hand margin of the MS. is a note:--"_Gib: Stage +Taylor_." + +[107] "Too arch-pillers" = two desperate ruffians. "Pill" = ravage, +plunder. + +[108] "_Il a esté au festin de Martin baston_, he hath had a triall in +_Stafford Court_, or hath received Jacke Drums intertainment." +--_Colgrave_. + +[109] From this point to the entrance of Raphael the dialogue is scored +through in the MS. + +[110] The reading of the MS. is doubtful. + +[111] "Guarded" = trimmed, ornamented. + +[112] This speech is scored through in the MS. + +[113] Not marked in the MS. + +[114] Not marked in the MS. + +[115] "Anythinge for a quiett lyfe"--a proverbial expression: the title +of one of Middleton's plays. + +[116] So I read at a venture. The MS. appears to give "Inseinge." + +[117] Not marked in the MS. In the right-hand margin is written "clere," +i.e., clear the stage for the next act. + +[118] A _fisgig_ was a sort of harpoon. + +[119] "Poore Jhon" = inferior hake. + +[120] This and the two following speeches are marked for omission in +the MS. + +[121] A nickname (from the apostle Peter) for a fisherman. + +[122] A small box or portmanteau. + +[123] Owns. + +[124] This speech and the next are marked for omission. + +[125] Fish-baskets. + +[126] The rest of the speech is marked for omission. + +[127] Bawd. + +[128] i.e., _Exeunt Palestra, Scribonia, and Godfrey: manet Ashburne_. + +[129] In the MS. follows some conversation which has been scored +through:-- + + "_Fisher_. Yes, syrrahe, and thy mayster. + + _Clown_. Then I have nothing at this tyme to do with thee. + + _Fisher_. Marry, a good motion: farewell and bee hangde. + + _Clown_. Wee are not so easly parted.--Is this your man?" + +[130] The following passage has been scored through in the MS.: + + "[_Ashb_.] Say, whats the stryfe? + + _Clown_. Marry, who fyrst shall speake. + + _Fisher_. Thats I. + + _Clown_. I appeale then to the curtesy due to a stranger. + + _Fisher_. And I to the right belonging to a ... what ere he says." + +[131] The MS. is broken away. + +[132] Penny. + +[133] The date has been scored through in the MS.: the number after "6" +has been turned into "3," but seems to have been originally "0." In the +margin "1530" is given as a correction. + +[134] Not marked in the MS. + +[135] This dialogue between Ashburne and the Clown is closely imitated +from _Rudens_, iv. 6. + +[136] The words "Nowe ... scurvy tune" are scored through. + +[137] Old form of _digest_. + +[138] The words "will for mee" are a correction in the MS. for "at this +tyme." + +[139] The MS. has:-- + + "Hee's now where hee's in Comons, wee ... ... + Heare on this seate (nay hold your head up, _Jhon_, + Lyke a goodd boy), freely discharged our selfes." + +In the first line "Hee's now where hee's" has been altered to "Hee's +where hee is," and the two next lines have been cancelled. + +[140] The reader will remember a somewhat similar incident in the _Jew +of Malta_, iv. 3, and in a well-known tale of the _Arabian Nights_. + +[141] In the left-hand margin of the MS. is written "_Fry: Jo: +nod_."--i.e., Friar John totters from the blow. Beneath "nod" is the +word "arras," which has been scored through. + +[142] i.e., I have't. + +[143] The exclamation of old Hieronimo's ghost in Kyd's _Spanish +Tragedy_. Cf. Induction to _Warning for Fair Women_:-- + + "Then, too, a filthy whining ghost + Lapt in some foul sheet, or a leather pilch, + Comes screaming like a pig half stick'd, + And cries, _Vindicta_!--Revenge, Revenge!" + +[144] "_Bases_, s.pl.--A kind of embroidered mantle which hung down from +the middle to about the knees, or lower, worn by knights on +horseback."--_Nares_. + +[145] In the right-hand margin is written "_Fact: Gibson_"--Gibson being +the name of the actor who took the Factor's part. + +[146] Not marked in the MS. + +[147] _Quart d'écu_--a fourth part of a crown. + +[148] A quibble on the _aurum potabile_ of the old pharmacists. +--F.G. Fleay. + +[149] In the MS. is a marginal note, "_Stagekeepers as a guard_." + +[150] Sarleboyes' speeches are scored through in the MS. + +[151] This speech is scored through. + +[152] Mopper of a vessel. + +[153] A not uncommon corruption of _Mahomet_. + +[154] "Sowse" = (1) halfpenny (Fr. sou), (2) blow. In the second sense +the word is not uncommonly found; in the first sense it occurs in the +ballad of _The Red Squair_-- + + "It greivit him sair that day I trow + With Sir John Hinrome of Schipsydehouse, + For cause we were not men enow + He counted us not worth a _souse_." + +We have this word again on p. 208, "Not a _sowse_ less then a full +thousand crownes." + +[155] Prison. + +[156] A quibble. "Points" were the tags which held up the breeches. + +[157] This line is scored through. + +[158] Old form of _convert_. + +[159] _Analytical Index to the Series of Records known as the +Remembrancia_ (printed for the Corporation of London in 1878), +pp. 215-16. + +[160] See _Calendar of State Papers, Domestic_, 1611-18, p. 207. + +[161] See Gilford's note on _The Devil is an Ass_, ii. 1; +_Remembrancia_, p. 43; _Cal. of State Papers, Domestic_, 1611-18. + +[162] Quy. "true"? + +[163] Esteem, weigh. + +[164] The old ed. gives: "Ile trie your courage--draw." The last word +was undoubtedly intended for a stage-direction. + +[165] Equivalent, as frequently, to a dissyllable. + +[166] Exclamations. + +[167] Vile. + +[168] Not marked in the old ed. + +[169] Old ed. "fate." + +[170] Old ed. "brought." + +[171] Old ed. "wood."--"_Anno 35 Reginae (Eliz.)_ ... A License to +_William Aber_, To Sow _Six Hundred_ Acres of Ground with _Oade_ ... A +Patent to _Valentise Harris_, To Sow _Six Hundred_ Acres of Ground with +_Woade_."--Townshend's _Historical Collections_, 1680, p. 245. + +[172] See my remarks in the Introduction. + +[173] So the old ed. The metrical harshness may be avoided by reading +"And by this sword and crownet have resign'd" (or "And by this coronet +and sword resign"). + +[174] Owns. + +[175] Old ed. "Gorges."--I suppose there is an allusion, which must not +be taken too literally, to the story of Candaules and Gyges (see +Herodotus, lib. i. 8). + +[176] This is the unintelligible reading of the old ed.--"This action, +_sure_, breeds" &c., would be hardly satisfactory. + +[177] Lucian tells a story of a youth who fell in love with Praxiteles' +statue of Aphrodite: see _Imagines_, § 4. He tells the story more +elaborately in his _Amores_. + +[178] Concert. + +[179] Old ed. "denie." + +[180] Before this line the old ed. gives the prefix "_Val_." Perhaps a +speech of Montano has dropped out. + +[181] Old ed. "although no a kin." + +[182] Old ed. "_light_ fall soft." Probably the poet originally wrote +"light," and afterwards wrote "fall" above as a correction (or "light" +may have been caught by the printer's eye from the next line). + +[183] _Doorkeeper_ was a common term for a pander. + +[184] Skin. + +[185] Old ed. "crowne."--My correction restores the sense and gives a +tolerable rhyme to "heare." Cf. p. 262. + + "And in this Chaire, prepared for a Duke, + Sit, my bright Dutchesse." + +[186] Old ed. "_Exit_." + +[187] Old ed. "have her honour." + +[188] In the Parliament of 1601 Sir Walter Raleigh and others vigorously +denounced the exportation of ordnance. See Townshend's _Historical +Collections_, 1680, pp. 291-5. + +[189] "Letters of Mart" = letters of marque. + +[190] Old ed. "now." + +[191] Old ed. "when." ("Then" = than.) + +[192] Old ed. "good." + +[193] Old ed. "this dissemblance." + +[194] See note [50]. + +[195] Old ed. "esteem'd." + +[196] "Open ... palpable ... grosse ... mountaine." The writer had +surely in his mind Prince Hal's words to Falstaff:--"These lies are +like their father that begets them: _gross_ as a _mountain, open, +palpable_." + +[197] Old ed. "Of Lenos mathrens." I have no doubt that my correction +restores the true reading. Cf. above "_Panders_ and _Parasites_ sit in +the places," &c. + +[198] Quy. "_On_, friends, to warre"? Perhaps something has dropped +out--"_Urge all_ our friends to warre." + +[199] Old ed. "dishonour'd." + +[200] Not marked in old ed. + +[201] This speech is not very intelligible, but I can only mend it by +violent changes. + +[202] Old ed. "payes all." + +[203] Old ed. "of this spatious play." + +[204] Crack. + +[205] Old ed. "sould." + +[206] Old ed. "are." + +[207] Old ed. "warre." + +[208] Old ed. "free." + +[209] Old ed. "And." + +[210] Old ed. "Then." + +[211] See remarks in the Introduction. + +[212] Old ed. "a jemme." + +[213] Quy. "creep" (for the sake of the rhyme)? + +[214] Gondola. + +[215] Old ed. "recover'd." + +[216] "_Timelesse_ lives taken away" = lives cut short by an _untimely_ +stroke. + +[217] Old ed. "prisoned." + +[218] Old ed. "playes." + +[219] In _As You Like It_, Rosalind, speaking the Epilogue, justifies +the novelty of the proceeding:--"It is not the fashion to see the lady +the epilogue; but it is no more unhandsome than to see the lord the +prologue."--Flavia is the earliest example, so far as I know, of a +lady-prologue. + +[220] Old ed. "Endeauours." + +[221] Old ed. "smile." The emendation was suggested to me by Mr. Fleay. + +[222] The old ed. gives "they are monsters _Graccus_, they call them," +assigning Graccus' speech to Acutus. + +[223] Old ed. "Of." + +[224] The old form of _bankrupt_. + +[225] _Canaries_ was the name of a lively dance. + +[226] A skeleton. Perhaps we should read "an atomy." + +[227] Not marked in old ed. + +[228] Not marked in old ed. + +[229] Old ed. "Sernulas." + +[230] Old ed. "Srnu." + +[231] Old ed. "Here's none but only I, sing." I take the word _sing_ to +be a stage-direction, and the preceding words to be part of a song. + +[232] "More hayre than wit"--a proverbial expression. Ray gives the +proverb, "Bush natural, more hair than wit." + +[233] Old ed. "Least." + +[234] Old ed. "_Phy_." Scilicet is offering a second ducket to his +instructor. + +[235] The rest of the speech is given to "_Seru_." in the old ed. + +[236] A sweet Spanish wine. + +[237] Not marked in old ed. + +[238] See note [63] in vol. II. + +[239] Old ed. "suret." + +[240] An allusion to the religious sect called _The Family of Love_. + +[241] Not marked in old ed. + +[242] Not marked in old ed. + +[243] The old ed. gives "burbarrels." The allusion is to the +_bum-rolls_,--stuffed cushions worn by women to make their petticoats +swell out. Cf. Stephen Gosson's _Pleasant Quippes_-- + + "If _barreld bums_ were full of ale, + They well might serve Tom Tapsters turne." + +[244] Old ed. "women." + +[245] Not marked in old ed. + +[246] Breeches that came below the garters. + +[247] I am unable to mend this passage. + +[248] Old ed. "looke."--Perhaps we should read "With him--ah, looke! +looke!--the bright," &c. + +[249] Old ed. "if they twang." + +[250] Not marked in old ed. + +[251] This is Mr. Fleay's correction for old ed.'s "Conceale." + +[252] Old ed. "In on the scale." + +[253] Not marked in old ed. + +[254] See note [85] in vol. II. + +[255] I suspect that we should read "my humour," and that the rest of +the speech should be given to Flavia. + +[256] The small bowl--the "Jack"--at which the players aimed in the game +of bowls. + +[257] Old ed. "_Scil_." + +[258] Old ed. "_Sernulus_." + +[259] An allusion to the _Sententiae Pueriles_ of Dionysius Cato, a +famous old school-book. + +[260] Not marked in old ed. + +[261] Old ed. "minited." + +[262] The first words of a charming song printed in Bateson's +_Madrigals_, 1604. Here is the song as I find it printed in the +excellent collection of _Rare Poems_ (1883) edited by my honoured +friend, Mr. W.J. Linton:-- + + "Sister, awake! close not your eyes! + The day its light discloses: + And the bright Morning doth arise + Out of her bed of roses. + + See! the clear Sun, the world's bright eye, + In at our window peeping! + Lo, how he blusheth to espy + Us idle wenches sleeping. + + Therefore, awake, make haste, I say, + And let us without staying, + All in our gowns of green so gay + Into the park a-maying." + +[263] "A sort of game played with cards or dice. Silence seems to have +been essential at it; whence its name. Used in later times as a kind of +proverbial term for being silent."--_Nares_. + +[264] Embrace. + +[265] Cf. _Titus Andronicus_, v. 1, "As true a dog as ever fought at +head." In bear-bating dogs were incited by the cry _To head, to head_! +See my edition of Marlowe, iii. 241. + +[266] Artery. + +[267] The sword of Sir Bevis of Southampton; hence a general term for a +sword. + +[268] Lint applied to wounds. + +[269] The mixture of muscadine and eggs was esteemed a powerful +provocative. + +[270] A corruption of _Span_. "buenos noches"--good night. + +[271] Old ed. "_Philantus_." + +[272] Old ed. "earely." + +[273] Bellafront in Pt. II. of _The Honest Whore_, iv. 1, says-- +"I, though with face mask'd, could not scape the _hem_." + +[274] Old ed. "let." + +[275] Old form of _pish_. + +[276] _Guard_ = fringe. The coats of Fools were _guarded_. + +[277] "Till death us _de_part"--so the form stood in the +marriage-service; now modernised to "do part." + +[278] Quean. + +[279] Not marked in old ed. + +[280] Not marked in old ed. + +[281] I have added the bracketed words; the sense requires them. + +[282] A musical term.--"The running a simple strain into a great variety +of shorter notes to the same modulation."--_Nares_. + +[283] Not marked in old ed. + +[284] Old ed. "Ye faith." + +[285] Old ed. "valley." + +[286] Old ed. "_Flau_." + +[287] Old ed. "_Tul_." + +[288] "Fortune, my foe, why doest thou frown on me?" is the first line +of an old ballad. + +[289] Not marked in old ed. + +[290] Old ed. "Tis." + +[291] "Unreadie" = undressed. + +[292] To the christening. + +[293] There is no stage-direction in the old ed. + +[294] Old ed. "foole." + +[295] "Duns the mouse"--a proverbial expression. See Dyce's _Shakespeare +Glossary_. + +[296] Old ed. "a close." + +[297] Not marked in old ed. + +[298] i.e. _bezzling_, tippling. + +[299] "Well nigh whittled, almost drunke, somewhat _overseen_." +--_Colgrave_. + +[300] Not marked in old ed. + +[301] Contracted. + +[302] An allusion to the proverbial expression, _Wit without money_. + +[303] An old form of "apron." + +[304] The citizens of London continued to wear flat caps (and +encountered much ridicule in consequence) long after they were generally +disused. + +[305] Not marked in old ed. + +[306] Not marked in old ed. + +[307] Old form of _digestion_. + +[308] Old ed. "Philantus." + +[309] More. + +[310] Old ed. "_Phylantus." + +[311] Quy. "and, swilling those bowels [bowls], Death did," &c.? + +[312] Old ed. "him himselfe." + +[313] See note [288].--In old ed. the words are given to _Grac_. + +[314] See note [295]. + +[315] Hip-bone. + +[316] Old ed. "are are." + +[317] Virg. _Ecls_. iv. 1. 49. _Bovis_ is of course an intentional +misquotation for _Jovis_. + +[318] Honest. + +[319] Old ed. "prig"; but on p. 375 we have "a mad merie grig." + +[320] The _City of Niniveh_ and _Julius Caesar_ were famous +puppet-shows. + +[321] Not marked in old ed. + +[322] Old ed. "and." + +[323] Old ed. "_Cittie Wife_." + +[324] This speech is printed as verse in the old ed. + +[325] Old ed. "witnesses." + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Collection Of Old English Plays, +Vol. IV., by Editor: A.H. 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For +example an eBook of filename 10234 would be found at: + + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/2/3/10234 + +or filename 24689 would be found at: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/6/8/24689 + +An alternative method of locating eBooks: + https://www.gutenberg.org/GUTINDEX.ALL + + diff --git a/old/10925-8.zip b/old/10925-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a2d98a6 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/10925-8.zip diff --git a/old/10925.txt b/old/10925.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9041dff --- /dev/null +++ b/old/10925.txt @@ -0,0 +1,16461 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Collection Of Old English Plays, Vol. IV. +by Editor: A.H. Bullen + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: A Collection Of Old English Plays, Vol. IV. + +Author: Editor: A.H. Bullen + +Release Date: February 3, 2004 [EBook #10925] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OLD ENGLISH PLAYS, V4 *** + + + + +Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Tapio Riikonen and PG Distributed +Proofreaders + + + + +A COLLECTION OF OLD ENGLISH PLAYS, VOL. IV + +In Four Volumes + + +Edited by + +A.H. BULLEN + + +1882-89. + + + + +CONTENTS: + +Preface +Two Tragedies in One. By Robert Yarington +The Captives, or the Lost Recovered. By Thomas Heywood +The Costlie Whore. +Everie Woman in her Humor. +Appendix +Index +Footnotes + + + +PREFACE. + +The fourth and final volume of this Collection of Old Plays ought to +have been issued many months ago. I dare not attempt to offer any +excuses for the wholly unwarrantable delay. + +In the preface to the third volume I stated that I hoped to be able to +procure a transcript of an unpublished play (preserved in Eg. MS. 1,994) +of Thomas Heywood. It affords me no slight pleasure to include this play +in the present volume. Mr. JEAVES, of the Manuscript Department of the +British Museum, undertook the labour of transcription and persevered to +the end. As I have elsewhere stated, the play is written in a detestable +hand; and few can appreciate the immense trouble that it cost Mr. JEAVES +to make his transcript. Where Mr. JEAVES' labours ended mine began; I +spent many days in minutely comparing the transcript with the original. +There are still left passages that neither of us could decipher, but +they are not numerous. + +I may be pardoned for regarding the Collection with some pride. Six of +the sixteen plays are absolutely new, printed for the first time; and I +am speaking within bounds when I declare that no addition so substantial +has been made to the Jacobean drama since the days of Humphrey Moseley +and Francis Kirkman. _Sir John Van Olden Barnavelt_ has been styled by +Mr. Swinburne a "noble poem." Professor Delius urged that it should be +translated into German; and I understand that an accomplished scholar, +Dr. Gelbeke of St. Petersburg, has just completed an admirable +translation. Meanwhile the English edition[1] has been reproduced in +Holland. + +In the original announcement of this Collection I promised a reprint of +_Arden of Feversham_ from the quarto of 1592; I also proposed to include +plays by Davenport, William Rowley, and Nabbes. After I had transcribed +_Arden of Feversham_ I determined not to include it in the present +series. It occurred to me that I should enhance the value of these +volumes by excluding such plays as were already accessible in modern +editions. Accordingly I rejected _Arden of Feversham, Sir John +Oldcastle, Patient Grissel_, and _The Yorkshire Tragedy_. The plays of +Davenport, William Rowley, and Nabbes were excluded on other grounds. +Several correspondents suggested to me that I should issue separately +the complete works of each of these three dramatists; and, not without +some misgivings, I adopted this suggestion. + +I acknowledge with regret that the printing has not been as accurate as +I should have desired. There have been too many misprints, especially in +the first two volumes;[2] but in the eyes of generous and competent +readers these blemishes (trivial for the most part) will not detract +from the solid value of the Collection. + +It remains that I should thank Mr. BERNARD QUARITCH, the most famous +bibliopole of our age (or any age), for the kind interest that he has +shewn in the progress of my undertaking. Of his own accord Mr. QUARITCH +offered to subscribe for one third of the impression,--an offer which I +gratefully accepted. I have to thank Mr. FLEAY for looking over the +proof-sheets of a great part of the present volume and for aiding me +with suggestions and corrections. To Dr. KOeHLER, librarian to the Grand +Duke of Weimar, I am indebted for the true solution (see _Appendix_) of +the rebus at the end of _The Distracted Emperor_. Mr. EBSWORTH, with his +usual kindness, helped me to identify some of the songs mentioned in +_Everie Woman in Her Humor_ (see _Appendix_). + +17, SUMATRA ROAD, WEST HAMPSTEAD, N.W. + +_8th October, 1885_. + + + + + + +INTRODUCTION TO _TWO TRAGEDIES IN ONE_. + + +Of Robert Yarington, the author of _Two Tragedies in One_ absolutely +nothing is known. There is no mention of him in Henslowe's Diary, and +none of his contemporaries (so far as I can discover) make the slightest +allusion to him. The _Two Tragedies_ is of the highest rarity and has +never been reprinted before. + +There are two distinct plots in the present play. The one relates to the +murder of Robert Beech, a chandler of Thames Street, and his boy, by a +tavern-keeper named Thomas Merry; and the other is founded on a story +which bears some resemblance to the well-known ballad of _The Babes in +the Wood_. I have not been able to discover the source from which the +playwright drew his account of the Thames Street murder. Holinshed and +Stow are silent; and I have consulted without avail Antony Munday's +"View of Sundry Examples," 1580, and "Sundry strange and inhumaine +Murthers lately committed," 1591 (an excessively rare, if not unique, +tract preserved at Lambeth). Yet the murder must have created some stir +and was not lightly forgotten. From Henslowe's Diary[3] (ed. Collier, +pp. 92-3) we learn that in 1599 Haughton and Day wrote a tragedy on the +subject,--"the Tragedy of Thomas Merrye." The second plot was derived, I +suppose, from some Italian story; and it is not improbable that the +ballad of the _Babes in the Wood_ (which was entered in the +Stationers' Books in 1595, tho' the earliest printed copy extant is the +black-letter broadside--circ. 1640?--in the Roxburghe Collection) was +adapted from Yarington's play. + +Although not published until 1601, the _Two Tragedies_ would seem from +internal evidence to have been written some years earlier. The language +has a bald, antiquated look, and the stage-directions are amusingly +simple. I once entertained a theory (which I cannot bring myself to +wholly discard) that _Arden of Feversham_, 1592, _Warning for Fair +Women_, 1599, and _Two Tragedies in One_, 1601, are all by the same +hand; that the _Warning_ and _Two Tragedies_, though published later, +were early essays by the author whose genius displayed its full power in +_Arden of Feversham_. A reader who will take the trouble to read the +three plays together will discover many points of similarity between +them. _Arden_ is far more powerful than the two other plays; but I +venture to think that the superiority lies rather in single scenes and +detached passages than in general dramatic treatment. The noble scene of +the quarrel and reconciliation between Alice Arden and Mosbie is +incomparably finer than any scene in the _Warning_ or _Two Tragedies_; +but I am not sure that Arden contains another scene which can be +definitely pronounced to be beyond Yarington's ability, though there are +many scattered passages displaying such poetry as we find nowhere in the +_Two Tragedies_. That Yarington could write vigorously is shown in the +scene where Fallerio hires the two murderers (who remind us of Shagbag +and Black Will in _Arden_) to murder his nephew; and again in the +quarrel between these two ruffians. Allenso's affection for his little +cousin and solicitude at their parting are tenderly portrayed with +homely touches of quiet pathos. The diction of the _Two Tragedies_ is +plain and unadorned. In reading _Arden_ we sometimes feel that the +simplicity of language has been deliberately adopted for artistic +purposes; that the author held plenty of strength in reserve, and would +not have been wanting if the argument had demanded a loftier style. In +Yarington's case we have no such feeling. He seems to be giving us the +best that he had to give; and it must be confessed that he is +intolerably flat at times. It is difficult to resist a smile when the +compassionate Neighbour (in his shirt), discovering poor Thomas +Winchester with the hammer sticking in his head, delivers himself after +this fashion:-- + + "What cruell hand hath done so foule a deede, + Thus to bemangle a distressed youth + Without all pittie or a due remorse! + See how the hammer sticketh in his head + Wherewith this honest youth is done to death! + Speak, honest _Thomas_, if any speach remaine: + What cruell hand hath done this villanie?" + +Merry's "last dying speech and confession" is as nasty as such things +usually are. + +In the introduction to _Arden of Feversham_ I intend to return to the +consideration of Yarington's _Two Tragedies_. + + + + +Two Lamentable Tragedies. + + +The one, of the Murther of _Maister_ Beech A _Chaundler in_ +Thames-streete, and his boye, done by _Thomas Merry_. + +_The other of a Young childe murthered_ in a Wood by two Ruffins, _with +the consent of his Vnckle_. + +By ROB. YARINGTON. + +LONDON. + +Printed for _Mathew Lawe, and are to be solde at _his Shop in Paules +Church-yarde neere vnto S. Austines Gate, at the signe of the Foxe_. +1601. + + + + +Two Tragedies in One. + + + _Enter Homicide, solus_. + +I have in vaine past through each stately streete, +And blinde-fold turning of this happie towne, +For wealth, for peace, and goodlie government, +Yet can I not finde out a minde, a heart +For blood and causelesse death to harbour in; +They all are bent with vertuous gainefull trade, +To get their needmentes for this mortall life, +And will not soile their well-addicted harts +With rape, extortion, murther, or the death +Of friend or foe, to gaine an Empery. +I cannot glut my blood-delighted eye +With mangled bodies which do gaspe and grone, +Readie to passe to faire Elizium, +Nor bath my greedie handes in reeking blood +Of fathers by their children murthered: +When all men else do weepe, lament and waile, +The sad exploites of fearefull tragedies, +It glads me so, that it delightes my heart, +To ad new tormentes to their bleeding smartes. + + _Enter Avarice_. + +But here comes _Avarice_, as if he sought, +Some busie worke for his pernicious thought: +Whether so fast, all-griping _Avarice_? + +_Ava_. Why, what carst thou? I seeke for one I misse. + +_Ho_. I may supplie the man you wish to have. + +_Ava_. Thou seemes to be a bold audatious knave; +I doe not like intruding companie, +That seeke to undermine my secrecie. + +_Ho_. Mistrust me not; I am thy faithfull friend. + +_Ava_. Many say so, that prove false in the end. + +_Ho_. But turne about and thou wilt know my face. + +_Ava_. It may be so, and know thy want of grace. +What! _Homicide_? thou art the man I seeke: +I reconcile me thus upon thy cheeke. [_Kisse, imbrace_. +Hadst thou nam'd blood and damn'd iniquitie, +I had forborne to bight so bitterlie. + +_Hom_. Knowst thou a hart wide open to receive, +A plot of horred desolation? +Tell me of this, thou art my cheefest good, +And I will quaffe thy health in bowles of blood. + +_Ava_. I know two men, that seem two innocents, +Whose lookes, surveied with iuditiall eyes, +Would seeme to beare the markes of honestie; +But snakes finde harbour mongst the fairest flowers, +Then never credit outward semblaunces. + + _Enter[4] Trueth_. + +I know their harts relentlesse, mercilesse, +And will performe through hope of benefit: +More dreadfull things then can be thought upon. + +_Hom_. If gaine will draw, I prethy then allure +Their hungrie harts with hope of recompence, +But tye dispaire unto those mooving hopes, +Unleast a deed of murther farther it, +Then blood on blood, shall overtake them all, +And we will make a bloodie feastivall. + +_Cove_. The plots are laide, the keyes of golden coine, +Hath op'd the secret closets of their harts. +Inter [_sic_], insult, make captive at thy will, +Themselves, and friends, with deedes of damned ill: +Yonder is _Truth_, she commeth to bewaile, +The times and parties that we worke upon. + +_Hom_. Why, let her weepe, lament and morne for me, +We are right bred of damn'd iniquitie, +And will go make a two-folde Tragedie. + [_Exeunt_. + +_Truth_. Goe you disturbers of a quiet soule, +Sad, greedy, gaping, hungrie _Canibals_, +That ioy to practise others miseries. +Gentles, prepare your teare-bedecked eyes, +To see two shewes of lamentation, +Besprinckled every where with guiltlesse blood, +Of harmlesse youth, and pretie innocents. +Our Stage doth weare habilliments of woe, +_Truth_ rues to tell the truth of these laments: +The one was done in famous London late, +Within that streete whose side the River Thames +Doth strive to wash from all impuritie: +But yet that silver stream can never wash, +The sad remembrance of that cursed deede, +Perform'd by cruell _Merry_ on iust _Beech_, +And his true boye poore _Thomas Winchester_. +The most here present, know this to be true: +Would _Truth_ were false, so this were but a tale! +The other further off, but yet too neere, +To those that felt and did the crueltie: +Neere _Padua_ this wicked deed was done, +By a false Uncle, on his brothers sonne, +Left to his carefull education +By dying Parents, with as strict a charge +As ever yet death-breathing brother gave. +Looke for no mirth, unlesse you take delight, +In mangled bodies, and in gaping wounds, +Bloodily made by mercy-wanting hands. +Truth will not faine, but yet doth grieve to showe, +This deed of ruthe and miserable woe. + + [_Exit_. + + + +[ACT THE FIRST.] + +[SCENE I.] + + + _Enter Merry_. + +I live in meane and discontented state, +But wherefore should I think of discontent? +I am belov'd, I have a pretty house, +A loving sister, and a carefull man, +That doe not thinke their dayes worke well at end, +Except it bring me in some benefit: +And well frequented is my little house +With many guestes and honest passengers, + + _Enter Beech and a friend_. + +Which may in time advance my humble state +To greater wealth and reputation. +And here comes friends to drinke some beare or ale; [_Sit in his Shop_. +They are my neighbours, they shall have the best. + +_Ne_. Come neighbour _Beech_, lets have our mornings draught +And wele go drinke it at yong _Merries_ house: +They say he hath the best in all this towne, +Besides they say he is an honest man, +And keepes good rule and orders in his house. + +_Beech_. He's so indeede; his conversation +Is full of honest harmlesse curtesie: +I dare presume, if that he be within, +Hele serve us well, and keepe us company. +See where he is, go in, ile follow you; [_Strive curtesies_. +Nay straine no curtesie, you shall goe before. + +_Mer_. Your welcome, neighbour, you are welcome, sir; +I praie sit downe, your verie welcome both. + +_Beech_. We thanke you for it, and we thinke no lesse. +Now fill two cans of your ould strongest beare; +That make so manie loose their little wits, +And make indentures as they go along. + +_Mer_. Hoe, sister _Rachell_! + +_Rach_. I come presently, + + _Enter Rachell_. + +_Mer_. Goe draw these gentlemen two cans of beare. +Your negligence that cannot tend the shop, +Will make our customers forsake the house. +Wheres _Harry Williams_ that he staies not here? + +_Rach_. My selfe was busie dressing up the house: +As for your man he is not verie well, +But sitteth sleeping by the kitchen fier. + +_Mer_. If you are busie, get you up againe; [_Exit_. +Ile draw my neighbours then their drinke my selfe, +Ile warrant you as good as any mans,-- +And yet no better; many have the like. + [_Exit for Beare_. + +_Neigh_. This showes him for a plain and honest man, +That will not flatter with too many wordes; +Some shriltong'd fellowes would have cogd and faind, +Saying, ile draw the best in Christendome. + +_Beech_. Hees none of those, but beares an honest minde, +And shames to utter what he cannot prove. + + _Enter Merry_. + +But here he comes: is that the best you have? + +_Mer_. It is the best upon mine honest worde. + +_Beech_. Then drinke to us. + +_Mer_. I drinke unto you both. + +_Nei_. _Beech_. We pledge you both, and thanke you hartelie. + +_Beech_. Heres to you sir. + +_Neigh_. I thank you. + + [_Maister Beech drinkes; drinke Neighbour_. + +_Neigh_. Tis good indeed and I had rather drinke +Such beare as this as any _Gascoine_ Wine: +But tis our _English_ manner to affect +Strange things, and price them at a greater rate, +Then home-bred things of better consequence. + +_Mer_. Tis true indeede; if all were of your mind, +My poore estate would sooner be advanc'd, +And our French Marchants seeke some other trade. + +_Beech_. Your poore estate! nay, neighbour, say not so, +For God be thanked you are well to live. + +_Mer_. Not so good neighbour, but a poore young man, +That would live better if I had the meanes: +But as I am I can content myselfe, +Till God amend my poore abilitie. + +_Neigh_. In time no doubt; why, man, you are but young, +And God, assure your selfe, hath wealth in store, +If you awaight his will with patience. + +_Beech_. Thankes be to God I live contentedlie, +And yet I cannot boast of mightie wealth: +But yet Gods blessings have beene infinit, +And farre beyond my expectations. +My shop is stor'd, I am not much in debt; +And here I speake it where I may be bold, +I have a score of poundes to helpe my neede, +If God should stretch his hand to visit me +With sicknesse or such like adversity. + +_Neigh_. Enough for this; now, neighbour, whats to pay? + +_Mer_. Two pence, good sir. + +_Beech_. Nay, pray, sir, forbeare; +Ile pay this reckoning, for it is but small. + +_Neigh_. I will not strive since yee will have it so. + +_Beech_. Neighbour, farewell. + + [_Exit Beech and Neigh_. + +_Mer_. Farewell unto you both. +His shop is stor'd, he is not much in debt, +He hath a score of poundes to helpe his neede: +I and a score too if the trueth were known. +I would I had a shop so stor'd with wares, +And fortie poundes to buy a bargain with, +When as occasion should be offered me; +Ide live as merrie as the wealthiest man +That hath his being within London walles. +I cannot buy my beare, my bread, my meate, +My fagots, coales, and such like necessaries, +At the best hand, because I want the coine, +That manie misers cofer up in bagges, +Having enough to serve their turnes besides. +Ah for a tricke to make this _Beeches_ trash +Forsake his cofer and to rest in mine! +I, marrie, sir, how may that tricke be done? +Marrie, with ease and great facilitie. +I will invent some new-found stratagem, +To bring his coyne to my possession. +What though his death relieve my povertie? +Gaine waites on courage, losse on cowardice. + + [_Exit_. + + + +[SCENE II.] + + + _Enter Pandino and Armenia sicke on a bed, Pertillo + their Sonne, Falleria his Brother, Sostrato his Wife, + Alinso their Sonne, and a Scrivener with a Will, &c_. + +_Pan_. Brother and sister, pray you both drawe neere, +And heere my will which you have promised +Shall be performde with wished providence. +This little Orphant I must leave behinde, +By your direction to be governed. +As for my wife and I, we do awaite +The blessed houre when it shall please the Lord, +To take us to the iust _Ierusalem_. +Our chiefest care is for that tender boye, +Which we should leave discomfortlesse behinde, +But that we do assure us of your love +And care to guide his weake unhable youth +In pathes of knowledge, grace, and godlinesse. +As for the riches of this mortall life, +We leave enough; foure hundreth pounds a yeare, +Besides two thousand pounds to make a stocke, +In money, iewels, plate, and houshold stuffe,-- +Which yearly rents and goods we leave to you, +To be surrendered into his hands, +When he attaines to yeeres of discreation. +My Will imports thus much, which you shall heare; +And you shall be my sole Executor. + +_Fall_. Brother and sister, how my hart laments +To see your weake and sicke afflicted limmes +Neere overcome with dyrefull malladies, +The God of heaven can truly testifie,-- +Which, to speake plaine, is nere a whit at all-- + [_To the people_. +Which knowes the secret corners of my heart; +But for the care you do impose on me, +For the tuition of your little sonne, +Thinke, my kinde brother, I will meditate, +Both day and night, how I may best fulfill, +The care and trust, reposed in your Will,-- +And see him posted quickly after you. [_To the people_. + +_Arm_. Enough, kinde brother; we assure us so, +Else would we seeke another friend abroade, +To do our willes and dying Testament. +Nature and love will have a double care +To bring him up with carefull diligence, +As best beseemes one of such parentage. + +_Fall_. Assure your selfe, the safest course I can, +Shall be provided for your little sonne,-- +He shall be sent unto the King of Heaven. [_To the people_. + +_Sostr_. Feare not, good brother, and my loving sister, +But we will have as tender care of him +As if he were our owne ten thousand times: +God will be father of the fatherlesse, +And keepe him from all care and wretchednesse. + +_Allenso_. Unckle and Aunt take comfort, I will see +My little coozen have no injurie. + +_Pan_. _Ar_. We thanke you all, come let the Will be read, + +_Fall_.--If it were seald, I would you both were dead. + +_Scrive_. Then give attention, I will read the Will. + _Reade the Will. +In the name of God. Amen.--I, &c_. + +_Pan_. Thus, if my Sonne miscarry, my deare brother, +You and your sonne shall then enjoy the land +And all the goods which he should have possess'd. + +_Fall_. If he miscarry, brother! God forbid! +God blesse mine Nephew, that thine eyes may see +Thy childrens children with prosperity! +I had rather see the little urchin hang'd [_To the people_. +Then he should live and I forgoe the land. + +_Ar_. Thankes, gentle brother; husband seale the will. + +_Pand_. Give me a Pen and Inke first to subscribe; +I write so ill through very feeblenesse, +That I can scarcely know this hand for mine, +But that you all can witnesse that it is. + +_Scri_. Give me the seale: I pray, sir, take it of. +This you deliver for your latest will, +And do confirme it for your Testament? + +_Pand_. With all my hart; here, brother, keepe my Will, +And I referre me to the will of God, +Praying him deale as well with you and yours, +As you no doubt will deale with my poore child. +Come, my _Pertillo_, let me blesse thee, boy, +And lay my halfe-dead hand upon thy head. +God graunt those days that are cut off in me, +With ioy and peace may multiply in thee. +Be slowe to wrath, obey thy Unckle still, +Submit thy selfe unto Gods holy will, +In deede and word see thou be ever true; +So brother, childe, and kinsfolkes, all adue. [_He dyeth_. + +_Per_. Ah my deere Mother, is my father dead? + +_Ar_. I, my sweete boye, his soule to heaven is fled, +But I shall after him immediatly. +Then take my latest blessing ere I dye: +Come, let me kisse thy little tender lips, +Cold death hath tane possession of thy mother; +Let me imbrace thee in my dying armes, +And pray the Lord protect thee from al harmes. +Brother, I feare, this Child when I am gone, +Wil have great cause of griefe and hideous feare: +You will protect him, but I prophecie, +His share will be of woe and misery: +But mothers feares do make these cares arise; +Come, boye, and close thy mothers dying eyes. +Brother and sister, here [_sic_] the latest words, +That your dead sister leaves for memory: +If you deale ill with this distressed boye, +God will revenge poore orphants iniuries, +If you deale well, as I do hope you will, +God will defend both you and yours from ill. +Farewell, farewell, now let me breath my last, +Into his dearest mouth, that wanteth breath, +And as we lov'd in life imbrace in death. +Brother and sister this is all I pray, +Tender my boye when we are laide in clay. [_Dyeth_. + +_Allen_. Gods holy Angell guide your loving soules +Unto a place of endlesse happinesse. + +_Sostr_. Amen, Amen. Ah, what a care she had +Of her small Orphant! She did dying pray, +To love her Childe when she was laide in claye. + +_Scr_. Ah blame her not although she held it deare; +She left him yonge, the greater cause of feare. + +_Fall_. Knew she my mind, it would recall her life, [_To the people_. +And like a staring Commet she would moove +Our harts to think of desolation.-- +Scrivenor, have you certified the Will? + +_Scri_. I have. + +_Fall_. Then theres two Duckets for your paines. + +_Scri_. Thankes, gentle sir, and for this time farewell. + [_Exit_. + +_Sost_. Come pretty coozen, cozened by grim death +Of thy most carefull parents all too soone; +Weepe not, sweete boye, thou shalt have cause to say, +Thy Aunt was kinde, though parents lye in claye. + +_Pert_. But give me leave first to lament the losse, +Of my deere parents, nature bindeth me, +To waile the death of those that gave me life, +And if I live untill I be a man, +I will erect a sumptuous monument, +And leave remembrance to ensuing times +Of kind _Pandino_ and _Armenia_. + +_Allen_. That shall not neede; my father will erect +That sad memoriall of their timeles[5] death, +And at that tombe we will lament and say +Soft lye the bones of faire _Armenia_. + +_Fall_. Surcease,_ Allenso_; thats a booteless cost, +The Will imports no such iniunction: +I will not spend my little Nephewes wealth, +In such vaine toyes; they shall have funerall, +But with no stately ceremoniall pompe, +Thats good for nought but fooles to gase uppon. +Live thou in hope to have thine unckles land. + +_Allen_. His land! why, father, you have land enough, +And more by much then I do know to use: +I would his vertues would in me survive, +So should my Unckle seeme in me alive. +But to your will I doe submit my selfe; +Do what you please concerning funeralls. + +_Fall_. Come then, away, that we may take in hand, +To have possession of my brothers land, +His goods and all untill he come of age +To rule and governe such possessions.-- +That shalbe never, or ile misse my marke, +Till I surrender up my life to death: +And then my Sonne shalbe his fathers heire, +And mount aloft to honors happy chaire. + + [_Exeunt omnes_. + + + +[SCENE III.] + + + _Enter Merry, solus_. + +_Beech_ hath a score of pounds to helpe his neede, +And I may starve ere he will lend it me: +But in dispight ile have it ere I sleepe, +Although I send him to eternall rest. +But, shallow foole, thou talkst of mighty things, +And canst not compasse what thou dost conceive. +Stay, let me see, ile fetch him to my house, +And in my garret quickly murther him: +The night conceales all in her pitchie cloake, +And none can open what I meane to hide. +But then his boy will say I fetcht him foorth: +I am resolv'd he shall be murthered to [_sic_]; +This toole shall write, subscribe, and seale their death +And send them safely to another world. +But then my sister, and my man at home, +Will not conceale it when the deede is done. +Tush, one for love, the other for reward, +Will never tell the world my close intent. +My conscience saith it is a damned deede +To traine one foorth, and slay him privily. +Peace, conscience, peace, thou art too scripulous [_sic_]; +Gaine doth attend[6] this resolution. +Hence, dastard feare! I must, I can, I will, +Kill my best friend to get a bag of gold. +They shall dye both, had they a thousand lives; +And therefore I will place this hammer here, +And take it as I follow _Beech_ up staires, +That suddenlie, before he is aware, +I may with blowes dash out his hatefull braines.-- +Hoe, _Rachell_, bring my cloake; look to the house, +I will returne againe immediately. + +_Rach_. Here it is brother, I pray you stay not long; +Guesse[7] will come in, 'tis almost supper time. + [_Ex. Ra_. + +_Mer_. Let others suppe, ile make a bloudier feast +Then ever yet was drest in _Merryes_ house. +Be like thy selfe then, have a merrie hart, +Thou shalt have gold to mend thy povertie, +And after this live ever wealthilie. + + _Then Merry must passe to Beeches shoppe, + who must sit in his shop, and Winchester + his boy stand by: Beech reading_. + +What, neighbour _Beech_, so godly occupied? + +_Beech_. I, maister _Merry_; it were better reade, +Then meditate on idle fantasies. + +_Mer_. You speake the trueth; there is a friend or two +Of yours making merry in my house, +And would desire to have your company. + +_Beech_. Know you their names? + +_Mer_. No truely, nor the men. +I never stoode to question them of that, +But they desire your presence earnestlie. + +_Beech_. I pray you tell them that I cannot come, +Tis supper time, and many will resort +For ware at this time, above all other times; +Tis Friday night besides, and Bartholomew eve, +Therefore good neighbour make my just excuse. + +_Mer_. In trueth they told me that you should not stay, +Goe but to drinke, you may come quick againe,-- +But not and if my hand and hammer hold. [_(To the) people_. + +_Beech_. I am unwilling, but I do not care, +And if I go to see the Company. + +_Mer_. Come quickly then, they think we stay too long. + +_Beech_. Ile cut a peece of cheese to drink withall. + +_Mer_. I, take the farewell of your cutting knife, +Here is a hand shall helpe to cut your throate, +And give my selfe a fairing[8] from your chest.-- +What are you ready, will you goe along? + +_Beech_. I, now I am; boy, looke you tend the shoppe; +If any aske, come for me to the _Bull_. +I wonder who they are that aske for me. + +_Mer_. I know not that, you shall see presentlie. +Goe up those staires, your friends do stay above.-- +Here is that friend shall shake you by the head, +And make you stagger ere he speake to you. + + _Then being in the upper Rome Merry strickes + him in the head fifteene times_. + +Now you are safe, I would the boy were so; +But wherefore wish I, for he shall not live? +For if he doe, I shall not live myselfe. + + [_Merry wiped [sic] his face from blood_. + +Lets see what mony he hath in his purse. +Masse heres ten groates, heres something for my pains. +But I must be rewarded better yet. + + _Enter Rachell and Harry Williams_. + +_Wil_. Who was it, _Rachell_, that went up the staires? + +_Rach_. It was my brother, and a little man +Of black complexion, but I know him not. + +_Wil_. Why do you not then carry up a light, +But suffer them to tarry in the darke? + +_Rach_. I had forgot, but I will beare one up. [_Exit up_. + +_Wil_. Do so, I prethee; he will chide anon. [_Exit_. + + [_Rachell speaketh to her Brother_. + +_Rach_. Oh brother, brother, what have you done? + +_Mer_. Why, murtherd one that would have murtherd me. + +_Rach_. We are undone, brother, we are undone. +What shall I say, for we are quite undone? + +_Mer_. Quiet thy selfe, sister; all shalbe well. +But see in any case you do not tell, +This deede to _Williams_ nor to any one. + +_Rach_. No, no, I will not; was't not maister _Beech_? + +_Mer_. It was, it is, and I will kill his man, [_Exit Rach_. +Or in attempting doe the best I can. + + _Enter Williams and Rachell_. + +_Wil_. What was the matter that you cride so lowde? + +_Rach_. I must not tell you, but we are undone. + +_Wil_. You must not tell me, but we are undone! +Ile know the cause wherefore we are undone. [_Exit up_. + +_Rach_. Oh would the thing were but to doe againe! +The thought thereof doth rent my hart in twaine. [_She goes up_. + + _Williams to Merry above_. + +_Wil_. Oh maister, maister, what have you done? + +_Mer_. Why slaine a knave that would have murtherd me; +Better to kill, then to be kild my selfe. + +_Wil_. With what? wherewith? how have you slaine the man? + +_Mer_. Why, with this hammer I knockt out his braines. + +_Wil_. Oh it was beastly so to butcher him. +If any quarrell were twixt him and you, +You should have bad him meete you in the field, +Not like a coward under your owne roofe +To knock him downe as he had bin an oxe, +Or silly sheepe prepard for slaughter house. +The Lord is just, and will revenge his blood, +On you and yours for this extremitie. +I will not stay an hower within your house, +It is the wickedst deed that ere was done. + +_Mer_. Oh, sir, content your selfe, all shall be well; +Whats done already cannot be undone. + +_Rach_. Oh would to God, the deed were now to do, +And I were privie to your ill intent, +You should not do it then for all the world. +But prethie, _Harry_, do not leave the house, +For then suspition will arise thereof, +And 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. +I tell you plaine, I would not have him dye, +Might I enjoy the _Soldans_ Emperie. + +_Fall_. What, wilt thou barre thy selfe of happinesse? +Stop the large streame of pleasures which would flowe, +And still attend on thee like Servingmen? +Preferre the life of him that loves thee not +Before thine owne and my felicitie? + +_Allen_. Ide rather choose to feede on carefulnesse, +To ditche, to delve, and labour for my bread, +Nay rather choose to begge from doore to doore, +Then condiscend to offer violence +To young _Pertillo_ in his innocence. +I know you speake, to sound what mightie share +_Pertillo_ hath in my affection. + +_Fall_. In faith I do not; therefore, prethie, say, +Wilt thou consent to have him made away? + +_Allen_. Why, then in faithe I am ashamde to think, +I had my being from so foule a lumpe +Of adulation and unthankfulnesse. +Ah, had their dying praiers no availe +Within your hart? no, damnd extorcion +Hath left no roome for grace to harbor in! +Audacious sinne, how canst thou make him say +Consent to make my brothers sonne away? + +_Fall_. Nay if you ginne to brawle, withdrawe your selfe, +But utter not the motion[10] that I made, +As you love me, or do regarde your life. + +_Allen_. And as you love my safetie and your soule, +Let grace and feare of God, such thoughts controule. + +_Fall_. Still pratling! let your grace and feare alone, +And leave me quickly to my private thoughts, +Or with my sword ile open wide a gate, +For wrath and bloudie death to enter in. + +_Allen_. Better you gave me death and buriall, +Then such foule deeds should overthrow us all. + +_Fall_. Still are you wagging that rebellious tounge! +Ile dig it out for Crowes to feede upon, +If thou continue longer in my sight. [_Exit Allenso_. +He loves him better then he loves his life! +Heres repetition of my brothers care, +Of sisters chardge, of grace, and feare of God. +Feare dastards, cowards, faint hart runawayes! +Ile feare no coulours[11] to obteine my will, +Though all the fiends in hell were opposite. +Ide rather loose mine eye, my hand, my foote, +Be blinde, wante senses, and be ever lame, +Then be tormented with such discontent +This resignation would afflict me with. +Be blithe, my boy, thy life shall sure be done, +Before the setting of the morrowe sunne. + [_Exit_. + + _Enter Avarice and Homicide bloody_. + +_Hom_. Make hast, runne headlong to destruction! +I like thy temper that canst change a heart +From yeelding flesh to Flinte and Adamant. +Thou hitst it home, where thou doost fasten holde; +Nothing can separate the love of golde. + +_Ava_. Feare no relenting, I dare pawne my soule, +(And thats no gadge, it is the divels due) +He shall imbrew his greedie griping hands +In the dead bosome of the bloodie boy, +And winde himselfe, his sonne, and harmlesse wife, +In endlesse foldes of sure destruction. +Now, _Homicide_, thy lookes are like thyselfe, +For blood and death are thy companions. +Let my confounding plots but goe before, +And thou shalt wade up to the chin in gore. + +_Homi_. I finde it true, for where thou art let in, +There is no scruple made of any sinne; +The world may see thou art the roote of ill, +For but for thee poore _Beech_ had lived still. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + + +[ACT THE SECOND.] + +[SCENE I.] + + + _Enter Rachell and Merry_. + +_Rach_. Oh my deare brother, what a heap of woe, +Your rashnesse hath powrd downe upon your head! +Where shall we hide this trumpet of your shame, +This timelesse ougly map of crueltie? +Brother, if _Williams_ do reveale the truth, +Then brother, then, begins our sceane of ruthe. + +_Mer_. I feare not _Williams_, but I feare the boy, +Who knew I fetcht his maister to my house. + +_Rach_. What, doth the boy know whereabouts you dwell? + +_Mer_. I, that tormentes me worse than panges of hell:-- +He must be slaine to, else hele utter all. + +_Rach_. Harke, brother, harke, me thinkes I here on[12] call. + +_Mer_. Go downe and see; pray God my man keep close; +If he prove long-tongd then my daies are done. +The boy must die, there is no helpe at all; +For on his life my verie life dependes. +Besides I cannot compasse what I would, +Unlesse the boy be quicklie made away. +This that abridgde his haplesse maisters daies, +Shall leave such sound memorials one [_sic_] his head, +That he shall quite forget who did him harme, +Or train'd his master to this bloodie feast.-- +Why, how now, _Rachell_? who did call below? + + _Enter Rachell_. + +_Rach_. A maide that came to have a pennie loafe. + +_Mer_. I would a pennie loafe cost me a pound, +Provided _Beeches_ boy had eate his last. + +_Rach_. Perchance the boy doth not remember you. + +_Mer_. It may be so,--but ile remember him. [_To people_. +And send him quicklie with a bloodie scrowle, +To greete his maister in another world. + +_Rach_. Ile go to _Beeches_ on a faind excuse, +To see if he will ask me for his maister. + +_Mer_. No, get you up, you shall not stir abroade, +And when I call, come quicklie to the dore. + +_Rach_. Brother, or that, or any thing beside, +To please your mind, or ease your miserie. [_Exit_. + +_Mer_. I am knee-deepe, ile wade up to the wast, +To end my hart of feare, and to atteine +The hoped end of my intention. +But I maie see, if I have eyes to see, +And if my understanding be not blind, +How manie dangers do alreadie waight, +Upon my steppes of bold securitie. +_Williams_ is fled, perchaunce to utter all; +Thats but perchance, naie rather flatlie no. +But should he tell, I can but die a death; +Should he conceale, the boy would utter it; +The boy must die, there is no remedie. + + [_The boy sitting at his maisters dore_. + +_Win_. I wonder that my maister staies so long; +He had not wont to be abroade so late. +Yonder comes one; I thinke that same is he. + +_Mer_. I see the boye sits at his maisters doore. +Or now, or never; _Merry_, stir thy selfe, +And rid thy hart from feare and jealousie.-- +_Thomas Winchester_, go quicklie to your shoppe: +What, sit you still? your maister is at hand. + + [_When the boy goeth into the shoppe Merrie striketh six blowes + on his head & with the seaventh leaves the hammer sticking in his + head; the boy groaning must be heard by a maide who must crye to + her Maister. + [Merrie flieth_. + +_Mai_. Oh God I thinke theres theeves in _Beeches_ shop. + + _Enter one in his shirt and a maide, and comming to Beeches shop + findes the boy murthered_. + +_Nei_. What cruell hand hath done so foule a deede, +Thus to bemangle a distressed youth +Without all pittie or a due remorse! +See how the hammer sticketh in his head, +Wherewith this honest youth is done to death! +Speak, honest _Thomas_, if any speach remaine: +What cruell hand hath done this villanie? +He cannot speake, his senses are bereft. +Hoe, neighbour _Loney_! pray come downe with speede, +Your tennant _Beeches_ man is murthered. + +_Loney sleeping_. What, would you have some mustard? + +_Nei_. Your tennant _Beeches_ man, is murthered. + +_Lo_. Whose smothered, I thinke you lack your wit +What, neighbor? what make[13] you here so late? [_Out at a window_. + +_Nei_. I was affrighted by a sodaine crie, +And comming downe saw maister _Beeches_ man, +Thus with a hammer sticking in his head. [_Comes to win_. + +_Loney_. Ah wo is me for _Thomas Winchester_, +The truest soule that ever maister had! +Wheres maister _Beech_? + +_Neigh_. Nay, no body can tell: +Did you see any running from the dore, +When you lookt out and heard the youngman crie? + +_Maid_. Yes I saw two trulie to my thinking, but they ranne away as fast +as their hands could beare them.--By my troth twas so darke I could see +no bodie.--[_To people_. Praie God Maister _Beech_ hath not hurt his boy +in his patience and if he have he must be hangd in his choller. + +_Lo_. I dare be sworne he would not strike him thus, +Praie God his Maister be not slaine himselfe. +The night growes late, and we will have this course +Be watch'd all night; to morrow we shall see +Whence sprang this strange uncivill crueltie. + +_Nei_. Neighbour good night. + +_Lon_. Neighbors all good night. + +_Ma_. Praie God I never see so sad a sight. + + [_Exeunt omnes_. + + _Enter Merry knocking at the doore, and Rachell comes downe_. + +_Mer_. Oh sister, sister, now I am pursu'd! +The mightie clamour that the boy did make, +Hath raisde the neighbours round about the street: +So that I know not where to hide my selfe. + +_Ra_. What, brother! have you kild _Beeches_ boy? + +_Mer_. No, no, not I, but yet another hath. +Come, come to bed, for feare we be descri'd: +The fearfullest night that ever _Merry_ knew! + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +[SCENE II.] + + + _Enter Falleria and two Ruffaines_. + +_Fall_. Seeme it not strange, resolved gentlemen,[14] +That I thus privatelie have severed you, +To open secret furrowes of my hart. +Think not I do intend to undermine, +Your passed lives, although you know I am +A man to whom the true unpartiall sworde, +Of equall justice is delivered. +Therefore sweare both, as you respect your soules, +At the last dreadfull sessions held in heaven, +First to conceale, and next to execute, +What I reveale, and shall enioyne you to. + +_Both_. So you rewarde us, whatsoever it be, +We vowe performance, and true secrecie. + +_Fall_. There go aside, yee seeming semblances, +Of equall justice, and true pietie, +And lay my hearts corrupted Cytadell +Wide open to your thoughts to look into. +Know I am named _Fallerio_ to deceive +The world with shew of truth and honestie, +But yet nor truth, nor honestie abides +Within my thoughts, but falshood, crueltie, +Blood-sucking _Avarice_, and all the sinnes, +That hale men on to bloodie stratagems, +Like to your selves, which care not how you gaine, +By blood, extorcion, falshood, periurie, +So you may have a pleasing recompence: [_They start_. +Start not aside, depart not from your selves, +I know your composition is as mine, +Of bloud, extortion, falshood, periurie, +True-branded with the marke of wickednesse. + +1 _Ruffin_. Be not so bitter; we are they indeede, +That would deprive our fathers of their lives, +So we were sure to have a benefit: +I way no more the murthring of a child, +Drag'd from the sucking bosome of his mother, +Then I respect to quaffe a boule of wine, +Unto his health, that dearely loveth me. + +2 _Ruff_. Where golde rewardeth, were apparent death, +Before mine eyes, bolde, hartie, visible, +Ide wrastle with him for a deadly fall, +Or I would loose my guerdon promised. +Ide hang my brother for to wear his coate, +That all that saw me might have cause to say, +There is a hart more firme then Adamant, +To practise execrable butcheries. + +_Fall_. I know that well, for were I not assur'd +Of your performance in this enterprice, +I would not ope the closet of my brest, +To let you know my close intention. +There is a little boy, an urchin lad, +That stands betweene me and the glorious rayes, +Of my soule-wishing sunne of happinesse. +There is a thicket ten miles from this place, +Whose secret ambush and unused wayes +Doth seeme to ioyne with our conspiracie: +There murther him, and when the deed is done, +Cast his dead body in some durtie ditch, +And leave him for the fowles to feed upon. +Do this, here is two hundreth markes in golde, +To harten on your resolution: +Two hundreth more, after the deed is done, +Ile pay you more for satisfaction. + +1 _Ruff_. Swones her's rewards would make one kill himselfe, +To leave his progenie so rich a prize! +Were twentie lives engadged for this coine, +Ide end them all, to have the money mine. + +2 _Ruff_. Who would not hazard life nay soule and all, +For such a franke and bounteous pay-maister? +Sblood! what labor is't to kill a boy? +It is but thus, and then the taske is done. +It grieves me most, that when this taske is past, +I have no more to occupie my selfe. +Two hundred markes to give a paltrie stab! +I am impatient till I see the brat. + +_Fall_. That must be done with cunning secrecie, +I have devisde to send the boye abroade, +With this excuse, to have him fostered, +In better manners than this place affoords. +My wife, though loath indeed to part with him, +Yet for his good, she will forgoe her joy, +With hope in time to have more firme delights, +Which she expects from young _Pertillos_ life. + +2 _Ruff_. Call you him _Pertillo_, faith leave out the _T_. + +_Fall_. Why so? + +_Ruff_. Because _Perillo_ will remaine, +For he shall surely perish if I live. +What do you call the father of the child? + +_Fall_. Why man, he hath no father left alive. + +1 _Ruff_.--Yes, such a father, that doth see and know, +How we do plot this little infants woe. [_To the people_. + +2 _Ruff_. Why, then his little sonne is much to blame, +That doth not keepe his father company. +When shall we have deliverie of the boy? + +_Fall_. To morrow morning by the breake of day: +And you must sweare youle see him safely brought, +Unto the place that I do send him to. + +2 _Ruff_. That may we safely, for you meane to send +Him to the wood and there his journey end.[15] +Both soule and limbes shall have a place to rest, +In earth the last, the first in _Abrams_ brest. + +_Fall_. Come gentlemen, this night go rest with me, +To morrow end _Pertillos_ tragedie. + + [_Exeunt omnes_. + + + +[SCENE III.] + + + _Enter Merry and Rachell_. + +_Mer_. Sister, now all my golde-expected hopes +Of future good is plainely vanished, +And in her stead grim-visadged dispaire, +Hath tane possession of my guiltie heart. +Desire to gaine began this desperate acte; +Now plaine apparance of destruction, +Of soule and body, waights upon my sinne. +Although we hide our sinnes from mortall men, +Whose glasse of knowledge is the face of man, +The eye of heaven beholdes our wickednesse, +And will no doubt revenge the innocent, + +_Rach_. Ah, do not so disconsolate your selfe, +Nor adde new streames of sorrow to your griefe, +Which like a spring tide over-swels the bankes, +Least you do make an inundation +And so be borne away with swiftest tides +Of ugly feare and strong dispairing thoughts. +I am your sister; though a silly Maide, +Ile be your true and faithfull comforter. + +_Mer_. _Rachell_, I see thy love is infinite, +And sorrow hath so borne my thoughts away, +That I had almost quite forgot my selfe. +Helpe me, deare sister, to convey from hence +The spectacle of inhumanitie. + +_Rach_. Whether would you convey this lumpe of dust +Untimely murthered by your lucklesse hand? + +_Mer_. To the lowe roome, where we will cover it, +With Fagots, till the evening doe approche: +In the meane time I will bethinke my selfe, +How I may best convey it foorth of doores; +For if we keepe it longer in the house, +The savour will be felt throughout the streete, +Which will betray us to destruction. +Oh what a horror brings this beastlinesse, +This chiefe of sinnes, this self-accusing crime +Of murther! now I shame to know my selfe, +That am estrang'd so much from that I was, +True, harmlesse, honest, full of curtesie, +Now false, deceitfull, full of injurie. +Hould thou his heeles, ile bear his wounded head: +Would he did live, so I myself were dead! + + [_Bring down the body, and cover it over with Faggots himselfe_. + +_Rach_. Those little stickes, do hide the murthred course, +But stickes, nor ought besides, can hide the sinne. +He sits on high, whose quick all-seeing eye, +Cannot be blinded by mans subtilties. + +_Mer_. Look every where, can you discerne him now? + +_Rach_. Not with mine eye, but with my heart I can. + +_Mer_. That is because thou knowest I laide him there: +To guiltinesse each thought begetteth feare. +But go, my true, though wofull comforter, +Wipe up the blood in every place above, +So that no drop be found about the house: +I know all houses will be searcht anon. +Then burne the clothes, with which you wipe the ground +That no apparant signe of blood be found. + +_Rach_. I will, I will; oh, would to God I could +As cleerely wash your conscience from the deed +As I can cleanse the house from least suspect +Of murthrous deed, and beastly crueltie! + +_Mer_. Cease to wish vainely, let us seeke to save +Our names, our fames, our lives and all we have. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +[SCENE IV.] + + + _Enter three or foure neighbours together_. + +1 _Neigh_. Neighbours, tis bruted all about the towne +That _Robert Beech_, a honest Chaundelor, +Had his man deadly wounded yester night, +At twelve a clock, when all men were a sleepe. + +2. Where was his maister, when the deed was done? + +3. No man can tell, for he is missing to, +Some men suspect that he hath done the fact, +And that for feare the man is fled away; +Others, that knew his honest harmlesse life, +Feare that himselfe is likewise made away. + +4. Then let commaundement every where be given, +That sinkes and gutters, privies, crevises, +And every place where blood may be conceald, +Be throughly searcht, swept, washt, and neerely sought, +To see if we can finde the murther out. +And least that _Beech_ be throwne into the _Thames_, +Let charge be given unto the watermen +That, if they see the body of a man, +Floting in any place about the _Thames_, +That straight they bring it unto _Lambert Hill_, +Where _Beech_ did dwell when he did live in health. + +1 _Neigh_. Ile see this charge performd immediatly. + +4. Now let us go to Maister _Beeches_ shop, [_Exit_. +To see if that the boy can give us light, +Of those suspitions which this cause doth yeeld. + +2. This is the house; call Maister _Loney_ forth. + +3. Hoe, Maister _Loney_! doth the boy yet live? + + _Enter Loney_. + +Or can he utter who hath done him wrong. + +_Lo_. He is not dead but hath a dying life, +For neither speech, nor any sense at all, +Abideth in the poore unhappie youth. + +4. Here [_sic_] you of anie where his Maister is? + +_Lo_. No, would we could; we all, that knew his life, +Suspect him not for any such offence. + +4. Bring forth the boy, that we may see his wounds. + + [_Bringes him forth in a chaire with a hammer sticking + in his head_. + +What say the Surgeons to the youngmans woundes? + +_Lo_. They give him over, saying everie wound, +Of sixe, whereof theres seav'n in his head, +Are mortall woundes and all incurable. + + [_They survey his woundes_. + + _Enter Merrie and Williams_. + +_Mer_. How now, good _Harry_, hast thou hid my fault? +The boy that knew I train'd his Maister forth, +Lies speechlesse, and even at the point of death. +If you prove true, I hope to scape the brunt. + +_Will_. Whie, feare not me, I have conceal'd it yet, +And will conceale it, have no doubt of me. + +_Mer_. Thanks, gentle _Harry_, thou shalt never lacke; +But thou and I will live as faithfull friendes, +And what I have, shalbe thine owne to use. +There is some monie for to spend to-day, +I know you meane to goe and see the faire. + +_Will_. I faine would go, but that I want a cloake. + +_Mer_. Thou shalt not want a cloake, or ought beside, +So thou wilt promise to be secret. [_Gives him his cloake_. +Here, take my Cloake, ile weare my best my selfe. +But where did you lie this last night? + +_Wil_. At the _three Cranes_, in a Carmans hay loft, +But ile have better lodging soone at night. + +_Mer_. Thou wilt be secret. I will go and see, [_Exit Willi_. +What stir they keepe about _Beeches_ shop, +Because I would avoyde suspition. [_Go to them_. +God save you, Gentlemen! is this the boy +That is reported to be murthered? + +4. He is not dead outright, but pleas'd it God, +Twere better he had left this wicked world, +Then to live thus in this extremitie. + +_Mer_. A cruell hand no doubt that did the deede. +Whie pull you not the hammer from his head? + +4. That must not be before the youth be dead, +Because the crowner and his quest may see, +The manner how he did receive his death. +Beare hence the bodie, and endevor all, +To finde them out that did the villanie. + + [_Exeunt omnes: manet Merrie_. + +_Mer_. Do what you can, cast all your wits about, +Rake kennells, gutters, seeke in everie place, +Yet I will overgoe your cunning heads, +If _Williams_ and my sister hold their tongues. +My neighbours holdes not me in least suspect, +Weighing of my former conversation. +Were _Beeches_ boy well conveid awaie, +Ide hope to overblow this stormie day. + + [_Exit_. + + + +[SCENE V.] + + + _Enter Falleria, Sostrata, Allenso, Pertillo, + and two Murtherers booted_. + +_Fall_. Now little cooze, you are content to goe, +From me your Unckle and your loving Aunt, +Your faithfull cozen, and your dearest friendes: +And all to come to be a skilfull man, +In learned artes and happy sciences? + +_Per_, I am content, because it pleaseth you. +My father bid I should obey your will, +And yeelde my selfe to your discretion: +Besides my cozen gave me yesternight, +A prettie nag to ride to _Padua_. +Of all my friends _Allenso_ loves me best. + +_Fall_. I thinke thou art inspir'd with prophesie: [_To the people_. +He loves thee better then I would he did.-- +Why, wherefore think you so, my prettie Nephew? + +_Per_. Because he taught me how to say my prayers, +To ride a horse, to start the fearfull hare. +He gave this dagger to me yester night, +This little Ring, and many pretie things; +For which, kind cooze, I rest your true debtor, +And one day I will make you recompence. + +_Fall_. I, with thy lands and goods thou leav'st behinde. + +_Allen_. Pray, father, let me go along with him.-- +Now, by the Saviour of my sinfull soule, [_To the people_. +I do not like those fellowes countenance. + +_Fall_. Sonne be content, weele go a seavenight hence, +And see him in his universitie weedes. +These will conduct him safely to the place; +Be well assured they'l have a care of him-- +That you shall never see _Pertillo_ more. [_To the people_. + +_Allen_. Father, I pray you to withdraw your selfe, +Ide have a word or two in secresie. + + [_They speake together_. + +_Sost_. Come living image of thy dead mother, +And take my loving farewell, ere we part. +I love thee dearly for thy fathers sake, +But for thy mothers dote with jealousie. +Oh I do feare, before I see thy face, +Or thou or I shall taste of bitternesse. +Kisse me, sweete boy, and, kissing, folde thine Aunte +Within the circle of thy little armes. +I neede not feare, death cannot offer wrong; +The majestie of thy presaging face, +Would vanquish him, though nere so terrible. +The angry Lionesse that is bereav'd +Of her imperious crew of forrest kings, +Would leave her furie, and defend thee safe +From Wolves, from Panthers, Leopards, and Shee Beares, +That live by rapine, stealth and crueltie. +Therefore to God I do commend thy state, +Who will be sure to guard thee tenderly. +And now to you, that carry hence this wealth, +This precious Jewell, this unprized good, +Have a regarde to use him carefully, +When he is parted from that serious care, +Which was imployde for his securitie. +I urge it not, that I misdoubt your truth; +I hope his Unckle doth perswade himselfe +You will be courteous, kinde, and affable. +Ther's some rewarde for hoped carefulnesse. + +_Allen_. Now by my soule I do suspect the men, +Especially the lower of the two: +See, what a hollow discontented looke +He casts, which brings apparant cause of feare: +The other, though he seeme more courteous, +Yet dooth his lookes presadge this thought in me. +As if he scorn'd to thinke on courtesie. + +_Fall_. Upon my life, my sonne you are to blame, +The gentlemen are honest, vertuous, +And will protect _Pertillo_ happily. +These thoughts proceed out of aboundant love, +Because you grieve to leave his company. +If ought betide him otherwise then well, +Let God require due vengaunce on my head, +And cut my hopes from all prosperitie. + +_Allen_. A heavie sentence, full of wondrous feare: +I cannot choose but credit such a vowe. +Come hether then, my joy, my chiefest hopes, +My second selfe, my earthly happinesse, +Lend me thy little prety cherry lip, +To kisse me, cozen; lay thy little hand +Upon my cheeke, and hug me tenderly. +Would the cleere rayes of thy two glorious sunnes +Could penetrate the corners of my heart, +That thou might see how much I tender thee. +My friends, beholde, within this little bulke +Two perfect bodyes are incorporate; +His life holdes mine, his heart conteines my hart, +His every lim containes my every part; +Without his being I can never be, +He being dead, prepare to bury me. +Oh thou immortall mover of the spheares +Within their circled revolusions, +Whose glorious image this small orphant beares, +Wrought by thy all-sufficient majestie, +Oh never suffer any wicked hand +To harme this heavenly workmanship of thine, +But let him live, great God, to honor thee +With vertuous life and spotlesse pietie! + +_Per_. Cease, my kind cooze; I cannot choose but weepe, +To see your care of my securitie. + +_Allen_.--Knewst thou my reason, that perswades my hart, +Thou wouldst not wonder, why I grieve to part: +But yet I would suspect my fathers vowe, +Did any other make it by your leave. + +_Fall_. What have you done? this lothnesse to depart, +Seemes you were trained up in tediousnesse, +Thou knowst not when and where to make an end. +Take him my friends, I know you will discharge +The hope and trust that I repose in you. + +_Both_. Assure your selfe, in every circumstance. + +_Fall_. Then to your horses quicklie, speedily, +Else we shall put our fingers in the eye, +And weepe for kindnesse till tomorrow morne. + +_Per_. Farewell good Unckle, Aunt, and loving cooze. + + [_Sostratus [sic] kisseth the boy weeping_. + +_Allen_. Farewell.--I fear me everlastinglie. + + [_Exeunt Sostratus and Allenso_. + + [_One of the Murtherers takes Falleria by the sleeve_. + +1 _mu_. You meane not now to have him murthered? + +_Fall_. Not murthered, what else? kill him, I say: +But wherefore makes thou question of my will? + +_Mur_. Because you wisht that God should be revenged, +If any ill betide the innocent. + +_Fall_. Oh that was nothing but to blind the eyes +Of my fond sonne, which loves him too too well. + +_Mer_. It is enough, it shall be surely done. + + [_Exeunt om_. + + + +[SCENE VI.] + + + _Enter Merry and Rachel with a bag_. + +_Mer_. What, hast thou sped? have you bought the bag? + +_Rach_. I, brother, here it is; what is't to do? + +_Mer_. To beare hence _Beeches_ body in the night. + +_Rach_. You cannot beare so great a waight your selfe, +And tis no trusting of another man. + +_Mer_. Yes well enough, as I will order it. +Ile cut him peece-meale; first his head and legs +Will be one burthen; then the mangled rest, +Will be another, which I will transport, +Beyond the water in a Ferryboate, +And throw it into _Paris-garden_ ditch,[16] +Fetch me the chopping knife, and in the meane +Ile move the fagots that do cover him. + [_Remove the Fagots_. + +_Rach_. Oh can you finde in hart to cut and carve, +His stone-colde flesh, and rob the greedy grave, +Of his dissevered blood-besprinkled lims? + +_Mer_. I, mary can I:--fetch the chopping knife. + +_Rach_. This deed is worse, then when you took his life. [_Exit_. + +_Mer_. But worse, or better, now it must be so, +Better do thus than feele a greater woe. + + _Enter Rach_. + +Here is the knife, I cannot stay to see +This barbarous deed of inhumanitie. [_Exit Rachel_. + + [_Merry begins to cut the body, and bindes the armes + behinde his back with Beeches garters; leaves out the + body, covers the head and legs againe_. + + _Enter Truth_. + +Yee glorious beames of that bright-shining lampe +That lights the starre-bespangled firmament, +And dimnes the glimmering shadowes of the night, +Why doost thou lend assistance to this wretch, +To shamble forth with bold audacitie +His lims, that beares thy makers semblance! +All you the sad spectators of this Acte, +Whose harts do taste a feeling pensivenesse +Of this unheard of, savadge massacre, +Oh be farre of to harbour such a thought +As this audacious murtherer put in ure![17] +I see your sorrowes flowe up to the brim, +And overflowe your cheekes with brinish teares, +But though this sight bring surfet to the eye, +Delight your eares with pleasing harmonie,[18] +That eares may counterchecke your eyes, and say, +Why shed you teares, this deede is but a playe? +His worke is done, he seekes to hide his sinne; +Ile waile his woe before his woe begin. [_Exit Trueth_. + +_Mer_. Now will I high me to the water side, +And fling this heavie burthen in a ditche, +Whereof my soule doth feele so great a waight +That it doth almost presse me downe with feare. + + + + +[ACT THE THIRD.] + +[SCENE I.] + + + _Enter Rachell_. + +Harke, _Rachell_, I will crosse the water straight +And fling this middle mention of a man +Into some ditch; then high me home againe, +To rid my house of that is left behinde. + +_Rach_. Where have you laid the legs & battered head? + +_Mer_. Under the fagots where it lay before. +Helpe me to put this trunk into the bag. + +_Rach_. My heart will not endure to handle it, +The sight hereof doth make me quake for feare, + +_Mer_. Ile do't my selfe; onely drie up the blood, +And burne the clothes as you have done before. [_Exit_. + +_Rach_. I feare thy soule will burne in flames of hell, +Unless repentance wash wash away thy sinne +With clensing teares of true contrition. +Ah, did not nature oversway my will, +The world should know this plot of damned ill. + + [_Exit_. + + + +[SCENE II.] + + + _Enter two Murtherers with Pertillo_. + +_Per_. I am so wearie in this combrous wood, +That I must needes go sit me downe and rest. + +1 _Mur_. What were we best? to kill him unawares, +Or give him notice what we doe intend? + +2 _Mur_. Whie then belike you meane to do your charge, +And feel no tast of pittie in your hart. + +1 _Mur_. Of pittie, man! that never enters heere, +And if it should, Ide threat my craven heart +To stab it home for harbouring such a thought. +I see no reason whie I should relent; +It is a charitable vertuous deede, +To end this princkocke[19] from this sinfull world. + +2 _Mur_. Such charitie will never have reward, +Unlesse it be with sting of conscience; +And thats a torment worse than Sisipus, +That rowles a restlesse stone against the hill. + +1 _Mur_. My conscience is not prickt with such conceit. + +2 _Mur_. That shews thee further off from hoped grace. + +1 _Mur_. Grace me no graces, I respect no grace, +But with a grace, to give a gracelesse stab; +To chop folkes legges and armes off by the stumpes, +To see what shift theile make to scramble home; +Pick out mens eyes, and tell them thats the sport +Of hood-man-blinde, without all sportivenesse. +If with a grace I can perform such pranckes, +My hart will give mine agents many thankes. + +2 _Mur_. Then God forbid I should consort my selfe +With one so far from grace and pietie, +Least being found within thy companie, +I should be partner of thy punishment. + +1 _Mur_. When wee have done what we have vowed to do, +My hart desires to have no fellowship +With those that talk of grace or godlinesse. +I nam'd not God, unleast twere with an othe, +Sence the first hour that I could walk alone; +And you that make so much of conscience, +By heaven thou art a damned hipocrite, +For thou hast vow'd to kill that sleeping boy, +And all to gaine two hundreth markes in gold. +I know this purenesse comes of pure deceit, +To draw me from from the murthering of the child, +That you alone might have the benefit. +You are too shallow; if you gull me so, +Chop of my head to make a Sowsing-tub, +And fill it full of tripes and chitterlinges. + +2 _Mur_. That thou shalt see my hart is far from fraud, +Or vaine illusion in this enterprize, +Which doth import the safetie of our soules, +There take my earnest of impietie. [_Give him his mony_. +Onely forbeare to lay thy ruder handes +Upon the poore mistrustlesse tender child. +As for our vowes, feare not their violence; +God will forgive on hartie penitence. + +1 _Mur_. Thou Eunuch, Capon, Dastard, fast and loose, +Thou weathercocke of mutabilitie, +White-livered Paisant, wilt thou vowe and sweare, +Face and make semblance with thy bagpipe othes +Of that thou never meanst to execute? +Pure cowardice, for feare to cracke thy necke +With the huge Caos of thy bodies waight, +Hath sure begot this true contrition. +Then fast and pray, and see if thou canst winne, +A goodlie pardon for thy hainous sinne. +As for the boy, this fatall instrument +Was mark'd by heaven to cut his line[20] of life, +And must supplie the knife of _Atropos_, +And if it doe not, let this maister-piece +(Which nature lent the world to wonder at) +Be slit in Carbonadoes[21] for the jawes +Of some men-eating hungrie Canniball. +By heaven ile kill him onely for this cause, +For that he came of vertuous Auncestors. + +2 _m_. But by that God which made that wondrous globe, +Wherein is seene his powerfull dietie,[22] +Thou shalt not kill him maugre all thy spight. +Sweare, and forsweare thyselfe ten thousand times. +Awake _Pertillo_, for thou art betrai'd; +This bloody slave intends to murther thee. [_Draw both_. + +1 _mur_. Both him, and all, that dare to rescue him. + +_Per_. Wherefore? because I slept without your leave? +Forgive my fault, ile never sleepe againe. + +2 _Mur_. No Child, thy wicked Unckle hath suborn'd +Both him and me to take thy life away, +Which I would save, but that this hellish impe +Will not content to spare thy guiltlesse blood. + +_Per_. Why should _Falleria_ seeke to have my life? + +2 _mur_. The lands and goods, thy father left his sonne, +Do hale thee on to thy destruction. + +_Per_. Oh needy treasure, harme-begetting good! +That safety[23] should procure the losse of blood! + +2 _mur_. Those lands and goods, thy father got with paine, +Are swords wherewith his little sonne is slaine. + +1 _mu_. Then let our swords let out his guiltlesse life. + +_Per_. Sweete, sowre, kinde, cruell, hold thy murthering knife, +And here [_sic_] me speake, before you murther me. + +2 _mu_. Feare not, sweet child, he shall not murther thee. + +1 _mu_. No, but my sword shall let his puddings forth. + +_Per_. First here me speake, thou map of Butcherie: +Tis but my goods and lands my Unckle seekes; +Having that safely, he desires no more. +I do protest by my dead parents soules, +By the deare love of false _Fallerios_ sonne, +Whose heart, my heart assures me, will be griev'd +To heare his fathers inhumanitie, +I will forsake my countrie, goods, and lands, +I, and my selfe will even change my selfe, +In name, in life, in habit, and in all, +And live in some farre-moved continent, +So you will spare my weake and tender youth, +Which cannot entertaine the stroake of death +In budding yeares and verie spring of life. + +1 _Mur_. Leave of these bootlesse protestations, +And use no ruth-enticing argumentes, +For if you do, ile lop you lim by lim, +And torture you for childish eloquence. + +2 _Mur_. Thou shalt not make his little finger ake. + +1 _Mur_. Yes, every part, and this shall proove it true. + [_Runnes Perillo in with his sworde_. + +_Per_. Oh I am slaine, the Lord forgive thy fact! +And give thee grace to dye with penitence. [_Dyeth_. + +2 _Mur_. A treacherous villaine, full of cowardise! +Ile make thee know that thou hast done amisse. + +1 _m_. Teach me that knowledge when you will or dare. + + [_They fight and kill one another; the relenter + having some more life, and the other dyeth_. + +1 _mur_. Swoones, I am peppered, I had need have salt, +Or else to morrow I shall yeeld a stincke, +Worse then a heape of dirty excrements. +Now by this Hilt, this golde was earn'd too deare: +Ah, how now death, wilt thou be conquerour? +Then vengeance light on them that made me so, +And ther's another farewell ere I goe. + [_Stab the other murtherer againe_. + +2 _mur_. Enough, enough, I had my death before. + + [_A hunt within_. + + _Enter the Duke of Padua, Turqualo, Vesuvio, Alberto, &c_. + +_Duke_. How now my Lords, was't not a gallant course, +Beleeve me sirs, I never saw a wretch, +Make better shift to save her little life. +The thickets full of buskes,[24] and scratching bryers, +A mightie dewe,[25] a many deepe mouth'd hounds, +Let loose in every place to crosse their course,-- +And yet the Hare got cleanly from them all. +I would not for a hundred pound in faith, +But that she had escaped with her life; +For we will winde a merry hunters home, +And starte her once again tomorrow morne. + +_Turq_. In troth my Lord, the little flocked[26] hound, +That had but three good legs to further him, +Twas formost still, and surer of his sent, +Then any one in all the crie besides. + +_Vesu_. But yet _Pendragon_ gave the Hare more turnes. + +_Alber_. That was because he was more polliticke, +And eyed her closely in her coverts still: +They all did well, and once more we will trie, +The subtile creature with a greater crie. + + _Enter Allenso, booted_. + +_Duke_. But say, what well accomplished Gentleman +Is that that comes into our company? + +_Vesu_. I know him well, it is _Fallerios_ sonne, +_Pandynos_ brother (a kinde Gentleman) +That dyed and left his little pretty sonne, +Unto his brother's[27] good direction. + +_Duke_. Stand close awhile, and overheare his wordes; +He seemes much over-gone with passion. + +_Allen_. Yee timorous thoughts that guide my giddy steps +In unknowne pathes of dreadfull wildernesse, +Why traitor-like do you conspire to holde +My pained heart twixt feare and jealousie? +My too much care hath brought me carelesly, +Into this woody savadge labyrinth, +And I can finde no way to issue out; +Feare hath so dazeled all my better part, +That reason hath forgot discreations art. +But in good time, see where is company.-- +Kinde Gentlemen, if you, unlike my selfe, +Are not incumbred with the circling wayes +Of this erronious winding wildernesse, +I pray you to direct me foorth this wood +And showe the pathe that leades to _Padua_. + +_Duke_. We all are _Paduans_, and we all intend +To passe forthwith with speed to _Padua_. + +_Allen_. I will attend upon you presently. [_See the bodyes_. + +_Duke_. Come then away:--but, gentlemen beholde, +A bloody sight, and murtherous spectacle! + +2 _Mur_. Oh, God, forgive me all my wickednesse +And take me to eternall happinesse! + +_Duke_. Harke one of them hath some small sparke of life, +To kindle knowledge of their sad mishaps. + +_Allen_. Ah gratious Lord, I know this wretched child, +And these two men that here lye murthered. + +_Vesu_. Do you, _Allenso_? + +_Allen_. I, my gracious Lord: +It was _Pertillo_ my dead Unckles sonne. +Now have my feares brought forth this fearefull childe +Of endlesse care, and everlasting griefe! + +_Duke_. Lay hands upon _Allenso_, Gentlemen. +Your presence doth confirme you had a share +In the performance of this crueltie. + +_Allen_. I do confesse I have so great a share +In this mishap, that I will give him thankes, +That will let foorth my sorrow-wounded soule +From out this goale of lamentation. + +_Duke_. Tis now too late to wish for hadiwist.[28] +Had you withheld your hand from this attempt, +Sorrow had never so imprisoned you. + +_Allen_. Oh my good Lord, do not mistake my case, +And yet my griefe is sure infallible. +The Lord of heaven can witnesse with my soule, +That I am guiltelesse of your wrong suspect, +But yet not griefelesse that the deed is done. + +_Duke_. Nay if you stand to justifie your selfe, +This gentleman whose life dooth seeme to stay, +Within his body till[29] he tell your shame, +Shall testifie of your integritie: +Speake then, thou sad Anatomy of death, +Who were the Agents of your wofulnesse? + +2 _Mur_. O be not blinded with a false surmise, +For least my tongue should faile to end the tale +Of our untimely fate-appointed death, +Know young _Allenso_ is as innocent +As is _Fallerio_ guiltie of the crime. +He, he it was, that with foure hundredth markes, +Whereof two hundred he paide presently, +Did hire[30] this damn'd villaine and my selfe +To massacre this harmelesse innocent: +But yet my conscience, toucht with some remorse, +Would faine have sav'd the young _Pertillos_ life, +But he remorselesse would not let him live, +But unawares thrust in his harmelesse brest +That life-bereaving fatall instrument: +Which cruell deede I seeking to revenge, +Have lost my life and paid the slave his due +Rewarde for spilling blood of innocents. +Surprise _Fallerio_, author of this ill; +Save young _Allenso_, he is guiltlesse still. [_Dyeth_. + +_Allen_. Oh sweetest honie mixt with bitter gall, +Oh Nightingale combinde with Ravens notes, +Thy speech is like a woodward that should say,-- +Let the tree live, but take the root away. +As though my life were ought but miserie, +Having my father slaine for infamie! + +_Duke_. What should incite _Fallerio_ to devise, +The overthrowe of this unhappie boy? + +_Vesu_. That may be easily guest, my gracious Lord, +To be the lands _Pandino_ left his sonne, +Which, after that the boy were murthered, +Discend to him by due inheritance. + +_Duke_. You deeme aright. See, gentlemen, the fruites, +Of coveting to have anothers right. +Oh wicked thought of greedie covetice! +Could neither nature, feare of punishment, +Scandall to wife and children, nor the feare, +Of Gods confounding strict severitie, +Allay the head-strong furie of thy will? +Beware, my friends, to wish unlawfull gaine; +It will beget strange actions full of feare, +And overthrowe the actor unawares. +For first _Fallerios_ life must satisfie +The large effusion of their guiltlesse bloods, +Traind on by him to these extremities; +Next, wife and children must be disposest, +Of lands and goods, and turnde to beggerie; +But most of all, his great and hainous sinne, +Will be an eye-sore to his guiltlesse kinne. +Beare hence away these models of his shame, +And let us prosecute the murtherer +With all the care and diligence we can. + + [_Two must be carrying away Pertillo_ + +_Allen_. Forbeare awhile to beare away my joy, +Which now is vanisht since his life is fled; +And give me leave to wash his deadly wound +With hartie teares, outflowing from those eyes +Which lov'd his sight, more then the sight of heaven. +Forgive me God for this idolatrie! +Thou ugly monster, grim imperious death, +Thou raw-bonde lumpe of foule deformitie, +Reguardlesse instrument of cruell fate, +Unparciall Sergeant, full of treacherie, +Why didst thou flatter my ill-boding thoughts, +And flesh my hopes with vaine illusions? +Why didst thou say, _Pertillo_ should not dye, +And yet, oh yet, hast done it cruelly? +Oh but beholde, with what a smiling cheere, +He intertain'd thy bloody harbinger! +See, thou transformer of a heavenly face +To Ashie palenesse and unpleasing lookes, +That his fair countenance still retaineth grace +Of perfect beauty in the very grave. +The world would say such beauty should not dye; +Yet like a theefe thou didst it cruelly. +Ah, had thy eyes, deepe-sunke into thy head, +Beene able to perceive his vertuous minde, +Where vertue sat inthroned in a chaire, +With awfull grace and pleasing maiestie, +Thou wouldest not then have let _Pertillo_ die, +Nor like a theefe have slaine him cruellie. +Inevitable fates, could you devise, +No means to bring me to this pilgrimage, +Full of great woes and sad calamities, +But that the father should be principall, +To plot the present downfall of the sonne? +Come then kind death and give me leave to die, +Since thou hast slaine _Pertillo_ cruellie. + +_Du_. Forbeare, _Allenso_; hearken to my doome, +Which doth concerne thy fathers apprehension. +First we enjoyne thee, upon paine of death, +To give no succour to thy wicked sire, +But let him perrish in his damned sinne, +And pay the price of such a treacherie. +See that with speede the monster be attach'd, +And bring him safe to suffer punishment. +Prevent it not, nor seeke not to delude +The Officers to whom this charge is given; +For if thou doe, as sure as God doth live, +Thy selfe shall satisfie the lawes contempt. +Therefore forward about this punishment. + + [_Exeunt omnes: manet Allenso_. + +_Al_. Thankes, gratious God, that thou hast left the meanes +To end my soule from this perplexitie. +Not succour him on paine of present death! +That is no paine; death is a welcome guest +To those whose hearts are overwhelm'd with griefe. +My woes are done, I having leave to die +And after death live ever joyfullie. [_Exit_. + + _Enter Murther and Covetousnesse_. + +_Mur_. Now, _Avarice_, I have well satisfied +My hungrie thoughtes with blood and crueltie; +Now all my melanchollie discontent +Is shaken off, and I am throughlie pleas'd, +With what thy pollicie hath brought to passe. +Yet am I not so throughlie satisfied +Untill I bring the purple actors forth. +And cause them quaffe a bowle of bitternesse, +That father sonne, and sister brother may +Bring to their deathes with most assur'd decay. + +_Ava_. That wilbe done without all question, +For thou hast slaine _Allenso_ with the boy, +And _Rachell_ doth not wish to overlive +The sad remembrance of her brothers sinne. +Leave faithfull love to teach them how to dye, +That they may share their kinsfolkes miserie. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + + +[ACT THE FOURTH.] + +[SCENE I.] + + + _Enter Merrie and Rachell uncovering the head and legges_. + +_Mer_. I have bestow'd a watrie funerall +On the halfe bodie of my butchered friend. +The head and legges Ile leave in some darke place; +I care not if they finde them yea or no. + +_Ra_. Where do you meane to leave the head and legs? + +_Mer_. In some darke place nere to _Bainardes Castle_.[31] + +_Ra_. But doe it closelie that you be not seene; +For all this while you are without suspect. + +_Mer_. Take you no thought, Ile have a care of that; +Onelie take heede you have a speciall care +To make no shew of any discontent +Nor use too many words to any one. + [_Puts on his Cloake; taketh up the bag_. +I will returne when I have left my loade. +Be merrie, _Rachell_; halfe the feare is past. [_Exit_. + +_Ra_. But I shall never thinke my selfe secure. +This deede would trouble any quiet soule, +To thinke thereof, much more to see it done; +Such cruell deedes can never long be hid, +Although we practice nere so cunningly. +Let others open what I doe conceale; +Lo he is my brother, I will cover it, +And rather dye than have it spoken rife,-- +Lo where she goes, betrai'd her brothers life. + + [_Exit_. + + + +[SCENE II.] + + + _Enter Williams and Cowley_. + +_Co_. Why, how now, _Harry_, what should be the cause, +That you are growne so discontent of late? +Your sighes do shew some inward heavinesse; +Your heavy lookes, your eyes brimfull of teares, +Beares testimonie of some secret griefe. +Reveale it, _Harry_; I will be thy friend, +And helpe thee to my poore habillity. + +_Wil_. If I am heavie, if I often sigh, +And if my eyes beare recordes of my woe, +Condemne me not, for I have mightie cause, +More then I will impart to any one. + +_Co_. Do you misdoubt me, that you dare not tell +That woe to me that moves your discontent? + +_Wil_. Good Maister _Cowley_, you were ever kinde, +But pardon me; I will not utter it +To any one, for I have past my worde; +And therefore urge me not to tell my griefe. + +_Cow_. But those that smother griefe too secretly, +May wast themselves in silent anguishment, +And bring their bodies to so low an ebb, +That all the world can never make it flowe, +Unto the happy hight of former health. +Then be not [so] iniurious to thy selfe, +To wast thy strength in lamentation, +But tell thy case; wele seeke some remedie. + +_Wil_. My cause of griefe is now remedilesse, +And all the world can never lessen it; +Then since no meanes can make my sorrowes lesse, +Suffer me waile a woe which wants redresse. + +_Cow_. Yet let me beare a part in thy lamentes, +I love thee not so ill but I will mone +Thy heavie haps; thou shalt not sigh alone. + +_Wil_. Nay, if you are so curious to intrude +Your selfe to sorrow, where you have no share, +I will frequent some unfrequented place +Where none shall here nor see my lamentations. [_Exit_. + +_Cow_. And I will follow wheresoever thou goe; +I will be a partner of thy helplesse woe. + + [_Exit_. + + + +[SCENE III.] + + + _Enter two Watermen_. + +1. _Will_, ist not time we should go to our boates, +And give attendance for this _Bartlemew_ tide? +Folkes will be stirring early in the morning. + +2. By my troth I am indifferent whether I go or no. If a fare come, +why so; if not, why so; if I have not their money, they shall have +none of my labour. + +1. But we that live by our labours, must give attendance. +But where lyes thy Boate? + +2. At _Baynards Castle_ staires. + +1. So do's mine, then lets go together. + +2. Come, I am indifferent, I care not so much for going; but if I go +with you, why so; if not, why so. [_He falls over the bag_. +Sblood, what rascall hath laide this in my way! + +1. A[32] was not very indifferent that did so, but you are so +permentorie, to say, why so, and why so, that every one is glad to do +you iniurie. But lets see: what is it? + + [_Taking the Sack by the end, one of the legs and head drops out_. + +Good Lord deliver us! a mans legges, and a head with manie wounds! + +2. Whats that so much? I am indifferent, yet for mine owne part, +I understand the miserie of it; if you doe, why so, if not, why so. + +1. By my troth I understand no other mistery but this: +It is a strange and very rufull sight. +But, prethee, what doost thou conceit of it? + +2. In troth I am indifferent, for if I tell you, why so, if not why so. + +1. If thou tell me, Ile thanke thee; therefore I prethee tell me. + +2. I tell you I am indifferent; but to be plaine with you, I am greeved +to stumble at the hangmans budget. + +1. At the hangmans budget? why, this is a sack. + +2. And to speake indifferently, it is the hangman's Budget; and because +he thought too much of his labour to set this head upon the bridge, and +the legs upon the gates, he flings them into the streete for men to +stumble at, but If I get him in my boate, Ile so belabour him in a +stretcher, that he had better be stretcht in one of his owne halfepeny +halters. If this be a good conceit, why so; if not, why so. + +1. Thou art deceiv'd, this head hath many wounds, +And hoase and shoes remaining on the legs. +_Bull_ always strips all quartered traitors quite. + +2. I am indifferent whether you beleeve me or no; these were not worth +taking of, and therefore he left them on. If this be likely why so; +if not, why so. + +1. Nay, then I see you growe from worse to worse. +I heard last night, that one neere _Lambert Hill_ +Was missing, and his boy was murthered. +It may be this is a part of that same man; +What ere it be, ile beare it to that place. + +2. Masse I am indifferent; ile go along with you, if it be so, why so; +if not why so. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +[SCENE IV.] + + + _Enter three neighbors knocking at Loneys doore: Loney comes_. + +1. Hoe, Maister Loney! here you any newes +What is become of your Tennant _Beech_? + +_Lon_. No truely, sir, not any newes at all. + +2. What, hath the boy recovered any speach, +To give us light of these suggestions +That do arise upon this accident? + +_Lon_. There is no hope he should recover speech; +The wives do say he's ready now to leave +This greevous world, full-fraught with treacherie. + +3. Methinkes if _Beech_ himselfe be innocent, +That then the murtherer should not dwell farre off; +The hammer that is sticking in his head, +Was borrowed of a Cutler dwelling by, +But he remembers not who borrowed it: +He is committed that did owe[33] the hammer, +But yet he standes uppon his innocence; +And _Beeches_ absence causeth great suspition. + +_Lo_. If _Beech_ be faulty, as I do not thinke, +I never was so much deceiv'd before. +Oh had you knowne his conversation, +You would not have him in suspition. + +3. Divels seeme Saints, and in these[34] hatefull times, +Deceite can beare apparraunt signes of trueth, +And vice beare shew of vertues excellence. + + _Enter the two Watermen_. + +1. Pray is this Maister _Beeches_ house? + +_Lo_. My friend this same was maister _Beeches_ shop: +We cannot tell whether he live or no. + +1. Know you his head and if I shew it you? +Or can you tell me what hose or shooes he ware, +At that same time when he forsooke the shoppe? + +3. What, have you head, and hose, and shooes to show, +And want the body that should use the same? + +1. Behold this head, these legges, these hose and shooes, +And see if they were _Beeches_, yea or no. + +_Lo_. They are the same; alas, what is become, +Of the remainder of this wretched man! + +1 _Wat_. Nay that I know not; onelie these we found, +As we were comming up a narrow lane, +Neere _Baynardes Castle_, where we two did dwell; +And heering that a man was missing hence, +We thought it good to bring these to this place, + +3. Thankes, my good friendes; ther's some thing for your paines. + +2 _Wat_. We are indifferent, whether you give us anything or nothing; +and if you had not, why so; but since you have, why so. + +1 _Wat_. Leave your repining: Sir, we thanke you hartely. + +3. Farewell good fellowes.--Neighbour, now be bold: [_Exeunt Watermen_. +They dwell not farre that did this bloodie deed, +As God no doubt will at the last reveale, +Though they conceale it nere so cunninglie. +All houses, gutters, sincks and crevices +Have carefully been sought for, for the blood; +Yet theres no instaunce found in any place. + + _Enter a Porter and a Gentleman_. + +But who is that that brings a heavy loade, +Behinde him on a painefull porters backe? + +_Gen_. Praie, Gentlemen, which call you _Beeches_ shoppe? + +2 _Neig_. This is the place; what wold you with the man? + +_Gen_. Nothing with him; I heare the man is dead, +And if he be not, I have lost my paines. + +_Lo_. Hees dead indeede, but yet we cannot finde +What is become of halfe his hopelesse bodie. +His head and legges are found, but for the rest, +No man can tell what is become of it. + +_Gen_. Then I doe thinke I can resolve your doubt +And bring you certain tydings of the rest, +And if you know his doublet and his shirt. +As for the bodie it is so abus'd +That no man can take notice whoes it was. +Set downe this burden of anothers shame. +What, do you know the doublet and the shirt? + + [_Ex. Porter_. + +_Lo_. This is the doublet, these the seuered limmes, +Which late were ioyned to that mangled trunke: +Lay them together, see if they can make +Among them all a sound and solid man. + +3 _neigh_. They all agree, but yet they cannot make +That sound and whole which a remorsles hand +Hath severed with a knife of crueltie. +But say, good sir, where did you finde this out? + +_Gent_. Walking betime by _Paris Garden_ ditch, +Having my Water Spaniell by my side, +When we approach'd unto that haplesse place +Where this same trunke lay drowned in a ditch, +My Spaniell gan to sent, to bark, to plunge +Into the water, and came foorth againe, +And fawnd one me, as if a man should say, +Helpe out a man that heere lyes murthered. +At first I tooke delight to see the dog, +Thinking in vaine some game did there lye hid +Amongst the Nettles growing neere the banke; +But when no game, nor anything appear'd, +That might produce the Spaniell to this sport, +I gan to rate and beate the harmlesse Cur, +Thinking to make him leave to follow me; +But words, nor blowes, could moove the dog away, +But still he plung'd, he div'd, he barkt, he ran +Still to my side, as if it were for helpe. +I seeing this, did make the ditch be dragd, +Where then was found this body as you see, +With great amazement to the lookers on. + +3. Beholde the mightie miracles of God, +That sencelesse things should propagate their sinne +That are more bestiall farre then beastlinesse +Of any creature most insensible! + +2. _Neigh_. Cease we to wonder at Gods wondrous works, +And let us labour for to bring to light +Those masked fiends that thus dishonor him. +This sack is new, and, loe! beholde his marke +Remaines upon it, which did sell the bag. +Amongst the Salters we shall finde it out +When, and to whom, this bloody bag was sold. + +3. Tis very likely, let no paines be spar'd, +To bring it out, if it be possible; +Twere pitty such a murther should remaine +Unpunished mongst Turkes and Infidels. + +1. _neigh_. Sirs, I do know the man that solde this bag, +And if you please, Ile fetch him presently? + +_Gent_. With all our hearts. How say you gentlemen? +Perchance the murther thus may come to light. + +3. I pray you do it, we will tarry heere: [_Exit 1. neigh_. +And let the eyes of every passenger +Be satisfied, which may example be +How they commit such dreadfull wickednesse. + +_Ent. wom_. And please your maisterships, the boy is dead. + +3. _neigh_. Tis very strange that having many wounds +So terrible, so ghastlie; which is more, +Having the hammer sticking in his head; +That he should live and stirre from _Friday_ night, +To _Sunday_ morning, and even then depart, +When that his Maisters mangled course were found. +Bring him foorth too; perchance the murtherers +May have their hearts touched with due remorse, +Viewing their deeds of damned wickednesse. + [_Bring forth the boye and laye him by Beech_. + +1 _neigh_. Here is the Salters man that solde the bag. + +_Gent_. My friend, how long since did you sell that bag? +And unto whom, if you remember it? + +_Sal_. I sould the bag, good sir, but yesterday, +Unto a maide; I do not know her name. + +3 _neigh_. Nor where she dwels. + +_Sal_. No certeinly. + +2 _neigh_. But what apparell had she on her back? + +_Sal_. I do not well remember what she wore, +But if I saw her I should know her sure. + +3 _neigh_. Go round about to every neighbours house, +And will them shew their maides immediately: +God grant we may finde out the murtherers. + [_Go to one house, and knock at doore, asking_. +Bring forth such maides as are within your house! + +1 _housekeeper_. I have but one, ile send her down to you. + +3 _neigh_. Is this the maide? [_Come out maide_. + +_Salt_. No, sir, this is not she. [_Go to another, &c_. +How many maides do dwell within this house? + +2 _house_. Her's nere a woman here, except my wife. [_Go to Merryes_. + +3 _neigh_. Whose house is this? + +_Lo_. An honest civill mans, cald Maister _Merry_, +Who I dare be sworne, would never do so great a murther; +But you may aske heere to for fashion sake. + + [_Rachell sits in the shop_. + +3. How now, faire maide, dwels any here but you? +Thou hast too true a face for such a deed. + +_Rach_. No, gentle sir; my brother keepes no more. + +3 _neigh_. This is not she? + +_Salt_. No truly, gentleman. + + [_Ex. R_. + +3. This will not serve; we cannot finde her out. +Bring in those bodyes, it growes towards night; +God bring these damn'd murtherers at length to light! + + [_Exeunt omnes_. + + + +[SCENE V.] + + + _Enter Merry and Rachell_. + +_Mer_. Why go the neighbours round about the streete +To every house? what hast thou heard the cause? + +_Rach_. They go about with that same Salters man, +Of whom I bought the bag but yesterday, +To see if he can know the maide againe +Which bought it: this I think the very cause. + +_Mer_. How were my senses overcome with feare, +That I could not foresee this jeopardy! +For had I brought the bag away with me, +They had not had this meanes to finde it out. +Hide thee above least that the Salters man +Take notice of thee that thou art the maide, +And by that knowledge we be all undone. + +_Rach_. That feare is past, I sawe, I spake with him, +Yet he denies that I did buy the bag; +Besides the neighbours have no doubt of you, +Saying you are an honest harmelesse man, +And made enquirie heere for fashion sake. + +_Mer_. My former life deserves their good conceits, +Which is not blemisht with this treacherie. +My heart is merier then it was before, +For now I hope the greatest feare is past. +The hammer is denyed, the bag unknowne; +Now there is left no meanes to bring it out, +Unless our selves proove Traitors to our selves. + +_Rach_. When saw you _Hary Williams_? + +_Me_. Why, to day; +I met him comming home from _Powles Crosse_, +Where he had beene to heare a Sermon. + +_Rach_. Why brought you not the man along with you +To come to dinner, that we might perswade +Him to continue in his secrecie? + +_Mer_. I did intreate him, but he would not come, +But vow'd to be as secret as my selfe. + +_Rach_. What, did he sweare? + +_Mer_. What neede you aske me that? +You know we never heard him sweare an othe. +But since he hath conceal'd the thing thus long, +I hope in God he will conceale it still. + +_Rach_. Pray God he do, and then I have no doubt +But God will overpasse this greevous sinne, +If you lament with true unfained teares +And seeke to live the remnant of your yeares +In Gods true feare with upright conscience. + +_Mer_. If it would please him pardon this amisse +And rid my body from the open shame +That doth attend this deed, being brought to light, +I would endevour all my comming dayes +To please my maker and exalt his praise. +But it growes late, come bring me to my bed, +That I may rest my sorrow-charged head. + +_Rach_. Rest still in calme secure tranquillitie, +And over-blowe this storme of mightie feare +With pleasant gales of hoped quietnesse. +Go when you will; I will attend, and pray +To send this wofull night a cheerfull day. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +[SCENE VI.] + + + _Enter Falleria and Sostrata weeping_. + +_Fall_. Passe ore these rugged furrowes of laments +And come to plainer pathes of cheerefulnesse; +Cease thy continuall showers of thy woe. +And let my pleasing wordes of comfort chase +These[35] duskie cloudes of thy uniust dispaire +Farre from thy hart, and let a pleasing hope +Of young _Pertillos_ happy safe returne +Establish all your ill-devining thoughts; +So shall you make me cheerfull that am sad,-- +And feede your hopes with fond illusions. + +_Sos_. I could be so; but my divided soule, +Twixt feare and hope of young _Pertillos_ life, +Cannot arrive at the desired port +Of firme beleefe, until mine eyes do see +Him that I sent to know the certainetie. + +_Fal_. To know the certaintie! of whom, of what? +Whome, whether, when, or whereabout, I praie, +Have you dispatcht a frustrate messenger?-- +By heaven, and earth, my heart misgiveth[36] me, +They will prevent my cunning pollicie. [_To the people_. +Why speake you not? what winged Pegasus +Is posted for your satisfaction? + +_Sos_. Me thinkes my speach reveales a hidden feare, +And that feare telles me that the childe is dead. + +_Fall_. By sweete _S. Andrew_ and my fathers soule, +I thinke the peevish boy be too too well +But speake, who was your passions harbinger? + +_Sos_. One that did kindle my misdoubting thoughts, +With the large flame of his timiddity. + +_Fall_. Oh then I know the tinder of your feare. +Was young _Allenso_ your white[37] honnie sonne. +Confusion light upon his timerous head, +For broching this large streame of fearefulnesse! +And all the plagues that damned furies feele +For their forepassed bold iniquities, +Afflict you both for thus preventing me! + +_Sos_. Preventing you! of what? _Fallerio_, speake, +For if you doe not my poore hart will breake. + +_Fall_. Why of the good that I had purposed, +To young _Pertillo_, which I would conceale +From you and him until the deed were done. + +_Sost_. If it were good, then we affect him deare, +And would add furtherance to your enterprise. + +_Fall_. I say your close eaves-dropping[38] pollicies +Have hindred him of greater benefits +Then I can ever do him after this.-- +If he live long, and growe to riper sinne, [_To the people_. +Heele cursse you both, that thus have hindered +His freedom from this goale of sinfull flesh.-- +But let that passe, when went your harebrainde sonne, +That Cuckow, vertue-singing, hatefull byrde, +To guarde the safetie of his better part, +Which he hath pend within the childish coope +Of young _Pertillos_ sweete securitie? + +_Sost_. That lovely sonne, that comfort of my life, +The root of vertuous magnamitie, +That doth affect with an unfained love, +That tender boy, which under heavens bright eye, +Deserveth most to be affected deare, +Went some two houres after the little boy +Was sent away to keepe[39] at _Padua_. + +_Fall_. What, is a lovelie? he's a loathsome toade, +A one eyde _Cyclops_, a stigmaticke[40] brat, +That durst attempt to contradict my will, +And prie into my close intendements. + + _Enter Alenso sad_. + +Mas, here a comes: his downcast sullen looke, +Is over-waigh'd with mightie discontent.-- +I hope the brat is posted to his sire, +That he is growne so lazie of his pace; +Forgetfull of his dutie, and his tongue +Is even fast tyde with strings of heavinesse.-- +Come hether, boye! sawst thou my obstacle, +That little _Dromus_ that crept into my sonne, +With friendly hand remoov'd and thrust away? +Say, I, and please me with the sweetest note +That ever relisht in a mortals mouth. + +_Allen_. I am a Swan that singe, before I dye, +Your note of shame and comming miserie. + +_Fall_. Speake softly, sonne, let not thy mother heare; +She was almost dead before for very feare. + +_Allen_. Would I could roare as instruments of warre, +Wall-battring Cannons, when the Gun powder +Is toucht with part of _Etnas_ Element! +Would I could bellow like enraged Buls, +Whose harts are full of indignation, +To be captiv'd by humaine pollicie! +Would I could thunder like Almightie _Ioue_, +That sends his farre-heard voice to terrifie +The wicked hearts of earthly citizens! +Then roaring, bellowing, thundring, I would say, +Mother, lament, _Pertillos_ made away! + +_Sost_. What, is he dead? God give me leave to die, +And him repentance for his treacherie! + [_Falleth down and dyeth_. + +_Fall_. Never the like impietie was done: +A mother slaine, with terror of the sonne! +Helpe to repaire the damadge thou hast made, +And seeke to call back life with dilligence. + +_Allen_. Call back a happy creature to more woe! +That were a sinne: good Father, let her go. +0 happy I, if my tormenting smart, +Could rend like her's, my griefe-afflicted heart! +Would your hard hart extend unto your wife, +To make her live an everdying life? +What, is she dead? oh, then thrice happy she, +Whose eyes are bard from our callamitie! + +_Fall_. I, all too soone, thou viper, paracide! +But for thy tongue thy mother had not dyde: +That belching voice, that harsh night-raven sound, +Untimely sent thy mother to the ground: +Upbraid my fault, I did deceive my brother; +Cut out thy tongue, that slue thy carefull mother. + +_Allen_. God love my soule, as I in heart rejoyce +To have such power in my death-bringing voice, +See how in steade of teares and hartie sighes; +Of foulded armes and sorrow-speaking lookes, +I doe behold with cheerefull countenance +The livelesse roote of my nativitie, +And thanke her hasty soule that thence did goe +To keep her from her sonne and husbandes woe.-- +Now, father, give attention to my tale; +I will not dip my griefe-deciphering tongue +In bitter wordes of reprehension. +Your deeds have throwne more mischiefes on your head +Then wit or reason can remove againe; +For to be briefe, _Pertillo_, (oh that name +Cannot be nam'de without a hearty sigh!) +Is murthered, and-- + +_Fal_. What and? this newes is good. + +_Allen_. The men which you suborn'd to murther him-- + +_Fal_. Better and better, then it cannot out, +Unlesse your love will be so scripulous [_sic_] +That it will overthrowe your selfe and me. + +_Allen_. The best is last, and yet you hinder me. +The Duke of _Padua_ hunting in the wood, +Accompanied with Lordes and Gentlemen-- + +_Fal_. Swones what of that? what good can come of that? + +_Allen_. Was made acquainted by the one of them, +(That had some little remnant of his life) +With all your practice and conspiracie. + +_Fall_. I would that remnant had fled quicke to hell, +To fetch fierce fi[e]ndes to rend their carcases, +Rather then bring my life in ieopardie! +Is this the best? swones, doe you mocke me, sonne, +And make a iest at my calamitie? + +_Allen_. Not I, good father; I will ease your woe, +If you but yeeld unto my pollicie. + +_Fal_. Declare it then, my wits are now to seeke; +That peece of life hath so confounded mee +That I am wholly overcome with feare. + +_Allen_. The Duke hath vow'd to prosecute your life, +With all the strict severitie he can; +But I will crosse his resolution +And keepe you from his furie well enough. +Ile weare your habit, I will seeme the man +That did suborne the bloodie murtherers; +I will not stir from out this house of woe, +But waight the comming of the officers, +And answere for you fore the angrie Duke, +And, if neede be, suffer your punishment. + +_Fall_. Ile none of that; I do not like the last; +I love thee dearer then I doe my life, +And all I did, was to advance thy state +To sunne-bright beames of shining happinesse. + +_Allen_. Doubte not my life, for when I doe appeare +Before the Duke, I being not the man, +He can inflict no punishment on mee. + +_Fall_. Mas, thou saiest true, a cannot punish thee; +Thou wert no actor of their Tragaedie. +But for my beard thou canst not counterfet +And bring gray haires uppon thy downy chinne; +White frostes are never seene in summers spring. + +_Allen_. I bought a beard this day at _Padua_, +Such as our common actors use to weare +When youth would put on ages countenance; +So like in shape, in colour, and in all, +To that which growes upon your aged face, +That were I dressed in your abilimentes, +Your selfe would scarcely know me from your selfe. + +_Fall_. That's excellent. What shape hast thou devis'd, +To be my vizard to delude the worlde? + +_Allen_. Why thus: ile presentlie shave off your haire, +And dresse you in a lowlie shepheardes weede; +Then you will seeme to have the carefull charge +Of some wealth-bringing, rich, and fleecy flocke, +And so passe currant from suspition. + +_Fall_. This care of thine, my sonne, doth testifie, +Nature in thee hath firme predominance, +That neither losse of friend, nor vile reproch, +Can shake thee with their strongest violence: +In this disguise, ile see the end of thee, +That thou, acquited, then maist succour me. + +_Allen_. I am assur'd to be exempt from woe:-- +This plot will worke my certaine overthrowe. [_(To the) People_. + +_Fall_. I will beare hence thy mother, and my wife, +Untimely murthered with true sorrowes knife. [_Exit_. + +_Allen_. Untimely murthered! happy was that griefe, +Which hath abridg'd whole numbers numberlesse +Of hart-surcharging deplorations. +She shall have due and Christian funerall, +And rest in peace amongst her auncestors. +As for our bodies, they shall be inter'd, +In ravening mawes, of Ravens, Puttockes, Crowes, +Of tatlin[g] Magpies, and deathes harbingers, +That wilbe glutted with winde-shaken limmes +Of blood-delighting hatefull murtherers. +And yet these many winged sepulchers, +Shall turne to earth, so I and father shall, +At last attaine to earth by funerall. +Well I will prosecute my pollicy, +That wished death may end my miseries. + + [_Exit_. + + + +[SCENE VII.] + + + _Enter Cowley and Williams_. + +_Cow_. Still in your dumpes, good _Harry_? yet at last, +Utter your motive of this heavinesse. +Why go you not unto your maisters house? +What, are you parted? if that be the cause, +I will provide you of a better place. + +_Wil_. Who roves all day, at length may hit the marke; +That is the cause,--because I cannot stay +With him whose love is dearer then my life. + +_Cow_. Why fell you out? why did you part so soone? + +_Wil_. We fell not out, but feare hath parted us. + +_Cow_. What, did he feare your truth or honest life? + +_Wil_. No, no, your understanding is but dimme, +That farre-remooved cannot iudge the feare. +We both were fearefull, and we both did part, +Because indeed we both were timerous. + +_Cow_. What accident begot your mutuall feare? + +_Wil_. That which my hart hath promis'd to conceale. + +_Cow_. Why, now you fall into your auncient vaine. + +_Wil_. Tis vaine to urge me from this silent vaine; +I will conceale it, though it breed my paine. + +_Cow_. It seemes to be a thing of consequence, +And therefore prithie, _Harry_, for my love, +Open this close fast-clasped mysterie. + +_Wil_. Were I assur'd my hart should have release +Of secret torment and distemperature, +I would reveale it to you specially +Whom I have found my faithfull favorite. + +_Cow_. Good _Harrie Williams_, make no doubt of that; +Besides your griefe reveald may have reliefe, +Beyond your present expectation. +Then tell it, _Harry_, what soere it be, +And ease your hart of horror, me of doubt. + +_Wil_. Then have you heard of _Beech_ of _Lambert Hill_, +And of his boy which late were murthered? + +_Cow_. I heard, and sawe their mangled carcases. + +_Will_. But have you heard of them that murthered them? + +_Cow_. No, would I had, for then Ide blaze their shame, +And make them pay due penance for their sinne. + +_Wil_. This I misdoubted, therefore will forbeare +To utter what I thought to have reveald. + +_Cow_. Knowst thou the actors of this murthrous deed, +And wilt conceale it now the deed is done? +Alas, poore man, thou knowest not what thou doost! +Thou hast incur'd the danger of the lawe +And thou mongst them must suffer punishment, +Unlesse thou do confesse it presentlie. + +_Wil_. What? shall I then betray my maisters life? + +_Cow_. Better then hazard both thy life and soule +To boulster out such barbarous villanie. +Why, then belike your maister did the deed? + +_Wil_. My maister unawares escapt my mouth; +But what the Lord doth please shall come to light, +Cannot be hid by humaine pollicie: +His haplesse hand hath wrought the fatall end +Of _Robert Beech_ and _Thomas Winchester_. + +_Cow_. Could he alone do both those men to death? +Hadst thou no share in execution? + +_Wil_. Nor knew not of it, till the deed was done. + +_Cow_. If this be true, thou maist escape with life: +Confesse the truth unto the officers, +And thou shalt finde the favour of the lawe. + +_Wil_. If I offended, 'twas my Maister's love +That made me hide his great transgressions: +But I will be directed as you please. +So save me God, as I am innocent! + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +[SCENE VIII.] + + + _Enter Alenso in Falleriaes apparell and berd; + Falleria shaven in shepheards habilliments_. + +_Fal_. Part of my selfe, now seemst thou wholy me, +And I seeme neither like my selfe nor thee, +Thankes to thy care and this unknown disguise. +I like a shepheard now must learn to know, +When to lead foorth my little bleating flock, +To pleasing pastures, and well-fatting walkes; +In stormie time to drive them to the lee; +To cheere the pretie Lambes, whose bleating voice +Doth crave the wished comfort of their dams; +To sound my merry Bag-pipe on the downes, +In shearing times, poore Shepheards festivals; +And lastlie, how to drive the Wolfe away, +That seeke to make the little Lambes their pray. + +_Allen_. Ah, have you care to drive the Wolfe away +From sillie creatures wanting intellecte, +And yet would suffer your devouring thoughts, +To suck the blood of your dead brothers sonne! +As pure and innocent as any Lambe +_Pertillo_ was, which you have fed upon. +But things past helpe may better be bewaild +With carefull teares, then finde a remedie; +Therefore, for feare our practise be espide, +Let us to question of our husbandrie. +How many Lambes fell from the middle flock, +Since I myselfe did take the latter view? + + _Enter Vesuvio, Turqual, Alberto_. + +_Fall_. Some vive and twenty, whereof two are dead. +But three and twenty scud about the fields, +That glads my hart to ze their iollitie. + +_Vesu_. This is the man, conferring of his Lambes, +That slew a Lambe worth all his flock besides. + +_Allen_. What is the time to let the Weathers blood? +The forward spring, that hath such store of grasse, +Hath fild them full of ranke unwholsome blood, +Which must be purg'd; else, when the winter comes, +The rot will leave me nothing but their skinnes. + +_Fall_. Chil let om blood, but yet it is no time, +Untill the zygne be gone below the hart.[41] + +_Vesu_. Forbeare a while this idle businesse, +And talke of matters of more consequence. + +_Fall_. Che tell you plaine, you are no honest man, +To call a shepheards care an idle toye. +What though we have a little merry sport +With flowrie gyrlonds, and an Oaten pipe, +And jolly friskins on a holly-day, +Yet is a shepheards cure a greater carke +Then sweating Plough-men with their busie warke. + +_Vesu_. Hence! leave your sheepish ceremoniall!-- +And now, _Fallerio_, in the Princes name, +I do arrest you, for the cruell murther +Of young _Pertillo_, left unto your charge, +Which you discharged with a bloody writ, +Sign'd by the hands of those you did suborne. +Nay, looke not strange, we have such evidence, +To ratifie your _Stigian_ cruelty, +That cannot be deluded any way. + +_Allen_. Alas, my Lords, I know not what you say! +As for my Nephew, he, I hope, is well: +I sent him yesterday to _Padua_. + +_Alber_. I, he is well, in such a vengers handes, +As will not winck at your iniquitie. + +_Allen_. By heaven and earth my soule is innocent! +Say what you will, I know my conscience. + +_Fal_.--To be afflicted with a scourge of care, +Which my oreweaning rashnesse did infflict. + +_Turq_. Come, beare him hence! expostulate no more; +That heart that could invent such treachery, +Can teach his face to brave it cunninglie. + +_Alen_. I do defie your accusations; +Let me have justice, I will answere it. + +_Vesuv_. So, beare him hence! I meane to stay behinde, +To take possession of his goods and landes +For the Dukes use: it is too manifest. + +_Allen_. I hope youle answere anything you doe. +My Lord _Vesuvio_, you shall answere it, +And all the rest that use extremities. + +_Alber_. I, to the Dukes Exchecker, not to you. + + [_Exeunt omnes; manet Falleria_. + +_Fal_. Thus shades are caught when substances are fled. +Indeede they have my garments, but my selfe +Am close enough from their discoverie; +But not so close but that my verie soule, +Is ract with tormentes for _Pertillos_ death. +I am _Acteon_; I doe beare about, +My hornes of shame and inhumanitie. +My thoughts, like hounds which late did flatter me +With hope of great succeeding benefits, +Now gin to teare my care-tormented heart +With feare of death and tortring punishment. +These are the stings whenas our consciences +Are stuf'd and clogd with close-concealed crimes. +Well, I must smoather all these discontentes, +And strive to beare a smoother countenaunce +Then rugged care would willingly permit. +Ile to the Court to see _Allenso_ free, +That he may then relieve my povertie. + + [_Exit_. + + + +[SCENE IX.] + + + _Enter Constable, three watchmen with halberdes_. + +_Con_. Who would have thought of all the men alive +That _Thomas Merry_ would have done this deede +So full of ruth and monstrous wickednesse! + +1 _wat_. Of all the men that live in _London_ walles, +I would have thought that _Merry_ had bin free. + +2 _wat_. Is this the fruites of Saint-like Puritans? +I never like such damn'd hipocrisie. + +3 _wat_. He would not loase a sermon for a pound, +An oath he thought would rend his iawes in twaine, +An idle word did whet Gods vengeance on; +And yet two murthers were not scripulous. +Such close illusions God will bring to light, +And overthrowe the workers with his might. + +_Con_. This is the house; come let us knocke at dore; +I see a light, they are not all in bed: + [_Knockes; Rachell comes downe_. +How now, faire maide? is your brother up? + +_Rach_. He's not within, sir; would you speake with him? + +_Con_. You doe but iest; I know he is within, +And I must needes go uppe and speake with him. + +_Rach_. In deede, good sir, he is in bed a sleepe, +And I was loath to trouble him to-night. + +_Con_. Well, sister, I am sorry for your sake; +But for your brother, he is knowne to be +A damned villaine and an hipocrite. +_Rachell_, I charge thee in her highnesse name, +To go with us to prison presently. + +_Rach_. To prison, sir? alas, what have I done? + +_Con_. You know that best, but every one doe know +You and your brother murthered Maister _Beech_, +And his poore boy that dwelt at _Lambert hill_. + +_Rach_. I murthered? my brother knowes that I, +Did not consent to either of their deathes. + +_Con_. That must be tride; where doth your brother lye? + +_Rach_. Here in his bed; me thinks he's not a sleepe. + +_Con_. Now, Maister _Merry_, are you in a sweate? + [_Throwes his night cap away_. + +_Merry sigh_. No verily, I am not in a sweate. + +_Con_. Some sodaine feare affrights you; whats the cause? + +_Mer_. Nothing but that you wak'd me unawares. + +_Con_. In the Queenes name I doe commaund you rise, +And presently to goe along with us. + [_Riseth up_. + +_Mer_. With all my hart; what, doe you know the cause? + +_Con_. We partly doe; when saw you maister _Beech_? + +_Mer_. I doe not well remember who you meane. + +_Con_. Not _Beech_, the Chaundler upon _Lambert hill_? + +_Mer_. I know the man, but saw him not this fortnight. + +_Con_. I would you had not, for your sisters sake, +For yours, for his, and for his harmlesse boy. +Be not obdurate in your wickednesse; +Confession drawes repentance after it. + +_Mer_. Well, maister Constable, I doe confesse, +I was the man that did them both to death: +As for my sister and my harmlesse man, +I doe protest they both are innocent. + +_Con_. Your man is fast in hold, and hath confest +The manner how, and where, the deede was done; +Therefore twere vaine to colour anything. +Bring them away. + +_Rach_. Ah brother, woe is me! + +_Mer_. I comfortlesse will helpe to comfort thee. + + [_Exeunt_. + + _Enter Trueth_. + +Weepe, weepe poor soules, & enterchange your woes; +Now, _Merry_, change thy name and countenance; +Smile not, thou wretched creature, least in scorne +Thou smile to thinke on thy extremities. +Thy woes were countlesse for thy wicked deedes, +Thy sisters death neede not increase the coumpt, +For thou couldst never number them before.-- +Gentles, helpe out with this suppose, I pray, +And thinke it truth, for Truth dooth tell the tale. +_Merry_, by lawe convict as principall, +Receives his doome, to hang till he be dead, +And afterwards for to be hangd in chaines. +_Williams_ and _Rachell_ likewise are convict +For their concealment; _Williams_ craves his booke[42] +And so receaves a brond[43] of infamie; +But wretched _Rachels_ sexe denies that grace, +And therefore dooth receive a doome of death +To dye with him whose sinnes she did conceale. +Your eyes shall witnesse of their shaded tipes, +Which many heere did see perform'd indeed. +As for _Fallerio_, not his homelie weedes, +His beardlesse face, nor counterfetted speech, +Can shield him from deserved punishment; +But what he thinkes shall rid him from suspect, +Shall drench him in more waves of wretchednesse, +Pulling his sonne into relentlesse iawes, +Of hungrie death, on tree of infamie. +Heere comes the Duke that doomes them both to die; +Next _Merries_ death shall end this Tragedie. + + [_Exit_. + + + + +[ACT THE FIFTH.] + +[SCENE I.] + + + _Enter Duke, Vesuvio, Turq., Alberto: and Fallerio disguised_. + +_Duke_. Where is that _Syren_, that incarnate fiend, +Monster of Nature, spectacle of shame, +Blot and confusion of his familie, +False-seeming semblance of true-dealing trust, +I meane _Fallerio_, bloody murtherer: +Hath he confest his cursed treacherie, +Or will he stand to proove his innocence? + +_Vesu_. We have attach'de _Fallerio_, gracious lord, +And did accuse him with _Pertillos_ death; +But he remote will not confesse himselfe +Neither the meanes nor author of the same. +His mightie vowes and protestations +Do almost seeme to pleade integritie, +But that we all do know the contrarie. + +_Fall_.--I know your error stricks your knowledge blinde; +His seeming me, doth so delude your minde. [_(To the) People_. + +_Duke_. Then bring him forth, to answer for himselfe, +Since he stands stoutly to denie the deed: + + [_Alberto and other fetch Alenso_. + +His sonne can witnesse that the dying man +Accusde _Fallerio_ for his treacherie.-- +Stand forth thou close disguised hipocrite, +And speake directlie to these articles: +First, didst thou hire two bloodie murtherers +To massacre _Pertillo_ in a wood? + +_Alen_. I never did suborne such murtherers, +But ever lov'd _Pertillo_ as my life. + +_Duke_. Thy sonne can witnesse to the contrarie. + +_Alen_. I have no sonne to testifie so much. + +_Fal_.--No, for his gravitie is counterfeit, +Pluck off his beard, and you will sweare it so. + +_Vesu_. Have you no sonne? doth not _Alenso_ live? + +_Alen_. _Alenso_ lives, but is no sonne of mine. + +_Alber_. Indeed his better part had not his source +From thy corrupted vice-affecting hart, +For vertue is the marke he aimeth at. + +_Duke_. I dare be sworne that _Sostrata_ would blush, +Shouldst thou deny _Alenso_ for thy sonne. + +_Alen_. Nay, did she live, she would not challenge me +To be the father of that haplesse sonne. + +_Turq_. Nay, then anon you will denie your selfe +To be your selfe, unjust _Fallerio_. + +_Alen_. I do confesse my selfe to be my selfe, +But will not answere to _Fallerio_. + +_Duke_. Not to _Fallerio_? this is excellent! +You are the man was cal'd _Fallerio_. + +_Alen_. He never breathed yet that cal'd me so, +Except he were deceiv'd as you are now. + +_Duke_. This impudence shall not excuse your fault; +You are well knowne to be _Fallerio_, +The wicked husband of dead _Sostrata_ +And father to the vertuous _Alenso_; +And even as sure as all these certeinties, +Thou didst contrive thy little Nephewes death. + +_Alen_. True, for I am nor false _Fallerio_, +Husband, nor father, as you do suggest, +And therefore did not hire the murtherers; +Which to be true acknowledge with your eyes. + [_Puls off his disguise_. + +_Duke_. How now, my Lords! this is a myracle, +To shake off thirtie yeares so sodeinlie +And turne from feeble age to flourishing youth! + +_Alb_. But he my Lord that wrought this miracle, +Is not of power to free himselfe from death, +Through the performance of this suddaine change. + +_Duke_. No, were he the chiefest hope of Christendome, +He should not live for this presumption: +Use no excuse, _Alenso_, for thy life; +My doome of death shall be irrevocable. + +_Alen_. Ill fare his soule that would extenuate +The rigor of your life-confounding doome! +I am prepar'd with all my hart to die, +For thats th' end of humaine miserie. + +_Duke_. Then thus: you shall be hang'd immediately, +For your illusion of the Magistrates +With borrowed shapes of false antiquitie. + +_Alen_. Thrice-happy sentence, which I do imbrace +With a more fervent and unfained zeale +Then an ambicious rule-desiring man +Would do a Iem-bedecked Diadem, +Which brings more watchfull cares and discontent +Then pompe or honor can remunerate. +When I am dead, let it be said of me, +_Alenso_ died to set his father free. + +_Fal_. That were a freedome worse than servitude +To cruell Turke or damned Infidell. +Most righteous Judge, I do appeale for Iustice, +Justice on him that hath deserved death, +Not on _Alenso_; he is innocent. + +_Alen_. But I am guiltie of abetting him, +Contrarie to his Maiestie's Edict, +And therefore death is meritorious. + +_Fall_. I am the wretch that did subborne the slaves, +To murther poore _Pertillo_ in the wood. +Spare, spare _Alenso_! he is innocent. + +_Duke_. What strange appeale is this! we know thee not: +None but _Fallerio_ is accusde hereof. + +_Alen_. Then, father, get you hence, depart in time, +Least being knowne you suffer for the crime. + +_Fal_. Depart, and leave thee clad in horrors cloake, +And suffer death for true affection! +Although my soule be guiltie of more sinne, +Then ever sinfull soule were guiltie of, +Yet fiends of hell would never suffer this. +I am thy father, though unworthy so: +Oh, still I see these weeds do feare your eyes. +I am _Fallerio_, make no doubt of me, [_Put off_. +Though thus disguisde, in habite, countenance, +Only to scape the terror of the lawe. + +_Alen_. And I _Alenso_ that did succour him +Gainst your commaundement, mightie Soveraigne. +Ponder your oath, your vowe, as God did live, +I should not live, if I did rescue him. +I did, God lives, and will revenge it home, +If you defer my condigne punishment. + +_Duke_. Assure your selves, you both shall suffer death: +But for _Fallerio_, he shall hang in chaines +After he's dead, for he was principall. + +_Fall_. Unsaverie Woormewood, Hemlock, bitter gall, +Brings no such bad, unrelisht, sower taste, +Unto the tongue as this death-boding voice, +Brings to the eares of poore _Fallerio_, +Not for myselfe but for _Allensoes_ sake, +Whome I have murthered by my trechery. +Ah my dread Lord, if any little sparke +Of melting pittie doth remaine alive, +And not extinguisht by my impious deedes, +Oh kindle it unto a happie flame, +To light _Allenso_ from this miserie +Which through dim death he's like to fall into. + +_Allen_. That were to overthrow my soule and all. +Should you reverse this sentence of my death, +My selfe would play the death-man on my selfe +And overtake your swift and winged soule, +Ere churlish _Caron_ had transported you +Unto the fields of sad _Proserpina_. + +_Duke_. Cease, cease, _Fallerio_, in thy bootlesse prayers. +I am resolv'd, I am inexorable. +_Vesuvio_, see their judgement be performde, +And use _Alenso_ with all clemencie, +Provided that the lawe be satisfied. + + [_Exit Duke and Alberto_. + +_Vesu_. It shall be done with all respectivenesse; +Have you no doubt of that, my gratious Lord. + +_Fall_. Here is a mercie mixt with equitie, +To show him favour but cut off his head. + +_Alen_. My reverend father pacifie yourselfe; +I can, and will, indure the stroake of death, +Were his appearance nere so horrible, +To meete _Pertillo_ in another world. + +_Fal_. Thou shouldst have tarried untill natures course +Had been extinct, that thou oregrowne with age, +Mightst die the death of thy progenitors; +Twas not thy meanes he died so soddenly, +But mine, that causing his, have murthered thee. + +_Alen_. But yet I slew my mother, did I not? + +_Fal_. I, with reporting of my villanie. +The very audit of my wickednesse, +Had force enough to give a sodaine death. +Ah sister, sister, now I call to minde, +Thy dying wordes now prov'd a prophesie, +If you deale ill with this distressed childe, +God will no doubt revenge the innocent. +I have delt ill, and God hath tane revenge. + +_Allen_. Now let us leave remembrance of past deedes, +And thinke on that which more concerneth us. + +_Fal_. With all my hart; thou ever wert the spur +Which prict me on to any godlinesse; +And now thou doest indevor to incite +Me make my parting peace with God and men. +I doe confesse, even from my verie soule, +My hainous sinne and grievous wickednesse +Against my maker manie thousand waies: +_Ab imo cordis_ I repent my selfe +Of all my sinnes against his maiestie; +And, heavenly father, lay not to my charge +The death of poore _Pertillo_ and those men +Which I suborn'd to be his murtherers, +When I appeare before thy heavenlie throne +To have my sentence or of life or death. + +_Vesu_. Amen, amen, and God continue still +These mercie-moving meditations. + +_Allen_. And thou, great God, which art omnipotent, +Powerful! enough for to redeeme our soules +Even from the verie gates of gaping hell, +Forgive our sinnes and wash away our faults +In the sweete river of that precious blood +Which thy deare sonne did shed in _Galgotha_, +For the remission of all contrite soules. + +_Fal_. Forgive thy death, my thrice-beloved sonne. + +_Allen_. I doe, and, father, pardon my misdeedes +Of disobedience and unthankfullnesse. + +_Fal_. Thou never yet wert disobedient, +Unlesse I did commaund unlawfulnesse. +Ungratefulnesse did never trouble thee; +Thou art too bounteous thus to guerdon me. + +_Allen_. Come, let us kisse and thus imbrace in death. +Even when you will, come, bring us to the place, +Where we may consumate our wretchednesse, +And change it for eternall hapinesse. + + [_Exeunt omnes_. + + + +[SCENE II.] + + _Enter Merry and Rachel to execution with Officers + with Halberdes, the Hangman with a lather [sic] &c_. + +_Mer_. Now, sister _Rachell_, is the houre come +Wherein we both must satisfie the law +For _Beeches_ death and harmelesse _Winchester_. +Weepe not sweete sister, for that cannot helpe: +I doe confesse fore all this company +That thou wert never privie to their deathes, +But onelie helpest me, when the deede was done, +To wipe the blood and hide away my sinne; +And since this fault hath brought thee to this shame, +I doe intreate thee on my bended knee +To pardon me for thus offending thee. + +_Rach_. I doe forgive you from my verie soule, +And thinke not that I shed these store of teares, +For that I price my life, or feare to dye, +Though I confesse the manner of my death +Is much more grievous then my death it selfe; +But I lament for that it hath beene said +I was the author of this crueltie +And did produce you to this wicked deede, +Whereof God knowes that I am innocent. + +_Mer_. Indeede thou art; thy conscience is at peace, + [_Goe up the lather_. +And feeles no terror for such wickednesse; +Mine hath beene vexed but is now at rest, +For that I am assur'd my hainous sinne +Shall never rise in judgement gainst my soule, +But that the blood of _Jesus Christ_ hath power +To make my purple sinne as white as Snowe. +One thing, good people, witnesse here with me, +That I doe dye in perfect charitie, +And do forgive, as I would be forgiven +First of my God and then of all the world. +Cease publishing that I have beene a man +Train'd up in murther or in crueltie, +For fore this time, this time is all too soone, +I never slue or did consent to kill; +So helpe me God as this I speake is true! +I could say something of my innocence, +In fornication and adulterie, +But I confesse the iustest man alive, +That beares about the frailtie of a man, +Cannot excuse himselfe from daily sinne +In thought, in word, and deed. Such was my life. +I never hated _Beech_ in all my life, +Onely desire of money which he had, +And the inciting of that foe of man, +That greedie gulfe, that great _Leviathan_, +Did halle [_sic_] me on to these callamities; +For which, even now my very soule dooth bleede. +God strengthen me with patience to endure +This chastisement, which I confesse too small +A punishment for this my hainous sinne. +Oh be couragious, sister! fight it well! +We shall be crown'd with immortallitie. + +_Rach_. I will not faint, but combat manfully; +Christ is of power to helpe and strengthen me. + +_Officer_. I pray make hast; the hower is almost past. + +_Mer_. I am prepar'd; oh God, receive my soule; +Forgive my sinnes, for they are numberlesse. +Receive me, God, for now I come to thee! + [_Turne of the Lather. Rachel shrinketh_. + +_Offi_. Nay shrinke not, woman; have a cheerefull hart. + +_Rach_. I, so I do, and yet this sinfull flesh +Will be rebellious gainst my willing spirit. +Come, let me clime these steps that lead to heaven, +Although they seeme the staires of infamie: +Let me be merror to ensuing times, +And teach all sisters how they do conceale, +The wicked deeds of brethren, or of friends. +I not repent me of my love to him, +But that thereby I have provoked God +To heavie wrath and indignation; +Which turne away, great God, for Christes sake. +Ah, _Harry Williams_, thou wert chiefest cause, +That I doe drinke of this most bitter cup, +For hadst thou opened _Beeches_ death at first, +The boy had liv'd and thou hadst sav'd my life. +But thou art branded with a marke of shame, +And I forgive thee from my very soule. +Let him and me learn all that heare of this +To utter brothers or their maisters misse; +Conceale no murthers, lest it do beget +More bloody deeds of like deformitie. +Thus God forgive my sinnes, receive my soule! +And though my dinner be of bitter death, +I hope my soule shall sup with Jesus Christ, +And see his presence everlastingly. [_Dyeth_. + +_Offi_. The Lord of heaven have mercy on her soule, +And teach all others by this spectacle, +To shunne such dangers as she ran into, +By her misguided taciturnitie: +Cut downe their bodies, give hers funerall, +But let his body be conveyed hence, +To _Mile-end_ greene, and there be hang'd in chaines. + + [_Exeunt omnes_. + + _Enter Truthe_. + +_Tru_. See here the end of lucre and desire +Of riches, gotten by unlawfull meanes. +What monstrous evils this hath brought to passe, +Your scarce-drie eyes give testimoniall; +The father sonne, the sister brother brings, +To open scandall and contemptuous death. + + _Enter Homicide and Covetousnesse_. + +But heere come they that wrought these deeds of ruthe, +As if they meant to plot new wickednesse. +Whether so fast, you damned miscreants, +Yee vaine deluders of the credulous, +That seeke to traine men to destruction? + +_Mur_. Why, we will on, to set more harmes a flote, +That I may swim in rivers of warme blood, +Out-flowing from the sides of Innocents. + +_Cove_. I will entice the greedie-minded soule, +To pull the fruite from the forbidden tree; +Yet _Tantall_-like, he shall but glut his eye, +Nor feede his body with salubrious fruite. + +_Tru_. Hence Stigmaticks, you shall not harbor heare, +To practice execrable butcheries! +My selfe will bring your close designes to light, +And overthrow your vilde conspiracies. +No hart shall intertaine a murthrous thought +Within the sea-imbracing continent, +Where faire _Eliza_, Prince of pietie, +Doth weare the peace-adorned Diadem. + +_Cove_. Mauger the worst, I will have many harts +That shall affect my secret whisperings; +And chinck of golde is such a pleasing crie, +That all men wish to heare such harmony, +And I will place stern _Murther_ by my side, +That we may do more harmes then haughty pride. + +_Homi_. Truth, now farewell; hereafter thou shalt see +Ile vexe thee more with many tragedies. + +_Truth_. The more the pitty; would the hart of man +Were not so open wide to entertaine +The harmfull baites of selfe-devouring sinne! +But from the first unto the latter times, +It hath and will be so eternally.---- +Now it remaines to have your good advice +Unto a motion of some consequence. +There is a Barke thats newly rigd for sea, +Unmand, unfurnishd with munition: +She must incounter with a greater foe +Then great _Alcydes_ slue in _Lerna_ Lake +Would you be pleasd to man this willing barke +With good conceits of her intencion; +To store her with the thundring furniture +Of smoothest smiles, and pleasing plaudiats; +She shall be able to endure the shock +Of snarling _Zoylus_, and his cursed crue, +That seekes to sincke her in reproches waves; +And may perchance obteine a victorie +Gainst curious carpes, and fawning parasites: +But if you suffer her, for want of ayde, +To be orewhelmed by her insulting foes, +Oh then she sinckes, that meant to passe the flood +With stronger force to do her countrie good. +It resteth thus; whether she live or dye, +She is your Beades-man everlastinglie. + + +Finis--Rob. Yarington. + +_Laus Deo_ + + + + + + +INTRODUCTION TO THE CAPTIVES; OR, THE LOST RECOVERED. + + +In Sir Henry Herbert's MS. Office-Book, under date Sept. 3rd, 1624, is +the entry:--"for the Cock-pit Company[44] a new play called the Captive +[_sic_] or the Lost Recovered, written by Hayward," i.e., Heywood. The +lost recovered! Lost for two centuries and a half was this comedy of +dear Tom Heywood, until I recovered it from Egerton MS. 1994. I am proud +to have rendered this service to a gentle poet who has given me many +hours of delight. + +The play is without title or author's name in the MS. After reading the +first page I judged that the author was Heywood, and this impression was +soon confirmed beyond all doubt. In the MS. the present play is +immediately followed by a piece called _Calisto_, which consists of +scenes from Heywood's _Golden Age_ and _Silver Age_. I have elsewhere +mentioned (Vol. ii. p. 419) that _Calisto_ and _The Captives_ are +written in the same desperately difficult handwriting,--peculiar to +these two plays, and not found in any other part of the volume. There +can be no doubt that whoever transcribed _Calisto_ transcribed also _The +Captives_. But from internal evidence alone--putting aside the testimony +afforded by the handwriting, and ignoring the entry in Sir Henry +Herbert's Office-Book--any competent reader could plainly perceive that +the play is Heywood's. In the very first scene--in the conversation +between Treadway and Raphael--we feel at once the charm of that hearty +"Christianism" which is never absent from Heywood's work. There is no +affectation in Heywood; he is always natural and simple, though +occasionally the writing sprawls. + +Everybody knows the droll description in Heywood's _English Traveller_ +of the "Shipwreck by Drink,"[45]--how some unthrift youths, carousing +deeply, chanced to turn their talk on ships and storms at sea; whereupon +one giddy member of the company suddenly conceived that the room was a +pinnace, that the sounds of revelry were the bawlings of sailors, and +that his unsteady footing was due to the wildness of the tempest; the +illusion spread among his companions, and a scene of whimsical confusion +followed. In _The Captives_, ii. 2, we have a similar conceit +suggested:-- + + _Scrib_. Such was the grace heaven sent us, who from perill, + Danger of lyfe, the extreamest of all extreames + Hathe brought us to the happy patronage + Of this most reverent abbott. + + _Clowne_. What dangers? what extreames? + + _Scrib_. From the sea's fury, drowneing; for last night + Our shipp was splitt, wee cast upon these rocks. + + _Clowne_. Sayd in a jest, in deede! Shipwreck by land! I perceive + you tooke the woodden waggen for a ship and the violent rayne for + the sea, and by cause some one of the wheels broake and you cast + into some water plashe, you thought the shipp had splitt and you + had bene in danger of drowneinge. + +The main story of _The Captives_ is borrowed from Plautus's _Rudens_, +many passages being translated almost word for word. It will be +remembered that in the _English Traveller_ Heywood was indebted to +another of Plautus's plays--the _Mostellaria_. I have not been able to +discover the source of the very curious underplot of _The Captives_. + +The MS. from which the play is printed bears every appearance of being a +play-house copy. Numerous passages have been cancelled, seemingly (for +the most part) by the hand of some reviser. In most instances I have +restored the cancelled passages to the text--though the task of +deciphering them has been cruelly difficult. + + + + +THE CAPTIVES; OR, THE LOST RECOVERED. + +A Comedy by THOMAS HEYWOOD. + + +Licensed by Sir Henry Herbert in 1624, +and now first printed from Egerton MS. 1994. + + + + +_Actus primus_. + +SCENA PR. + + + _Enter Mr. Raphael a younge marchaunt, Mr. Treadway + his companione and frend_. + +_Raphael_. You talke to one thats deaf; I am resolv'd. + +_Treadway_. I knwe [_sic_] you are not of that stupid sence +But you will lyst to reason. + +_Raphael_. Alls but vayne. + +_Treadway_. You saye shees fayre. + +_Raphael_. And there-fore to bee lov'd. + +_Treadway_.[46] No consequent +To trust to collour. Are not the bewtyous lyllyes, +The gardens pryde and glorye of the feilds, +Thoughe to the eye fayre and delectable, +Yet ranke in smell? the stayneles swanne +With all the Oceans water cannot wash +The blacknes from her feete, tis borne with her. +Oft painted vessayles bringe in poysond cates, +And the blackest serpents weare the goldenst scales; +And woman, made mans helper at the fyrst, +Dothe oft proove his destroyer. + +_Raphael_. Saye perhapps +Some frend of yours miscarried in his choyse, +Will you condeme all women for that one? +Bycause we reade one _Lais_ was unchast, +Are all Corinthian Ladyes cortesans? +Shall I, bycause my neighbours house was burnt, +Condeme the necessary use of fyre? +One surfeitts, and shall I refuse to eate? +That marchant man by shipwreck lost his goodds; +Shall I, bycause hee perisht in the sea, +Abiure the gainfull trade of merchandyse, +Despoyle my shipps, and unbecom [?] the deepes +Of theire fayre Sayles and tackles? + +_Treadway_. Not so, frend.[47] +Althoughe her person may perhapps content, +Consider but the place. + +_Raphael_. I knwe it badd, +Nay woorst of Ills. + +_Treadway_. A howse of prostitution +And common brothellrie. + +_Raphael_. Which coold not stand +But that her vertue guards it and protects it +From blastinges and heavens thunders. There shee lyves +Lyke to a ritche and pretious Jewell lost, +Fownd shyninge on a doonge-hill, yet the gemme +No wyse disparadged of his former worthe +Nor bated of his glory; out of this fyre +Of lust and black temptation sheis [_sic_] returned +Lyke gold repur'd and tryde. + +_Treadway_. Of what byrthe is shee? + +_Raphael_. Unknwne to mee or any: shee protests, +Neye to her self; what neede I question that? +Sure sutche sweete features, goodnes, modesty +Such gentlenes, such vertue cannot bee +Deryvd from base and obscure parentadge. + +_Treadway_. Whats then your end and purpose? + +_Raphael_. To redeeme her +Out of this gayle of sinne and leprosye, +This mart of all diseases, where shee lyves +Still under the comande and Tyrany +Of a most base hee-bawde: about which busines +Wee have allready traffict. + +_Treadway_. Well, if so, +And to dispose her elsewhere to her goodd, +Provided still that vertue be your ayme, +I cannot but commende your charity +And to my power I'l seeke to further it. + +_Raphael_. You so intyre mee to you. Within theire! + + _Enter the Clowne_. + +_Clowne_. Within theire is nowe without heare: your worshipps pleasure? + +_Raphael_. Hye to the next key and inquire for one cald Seignior +_Mildewe_ and resolve him from mee that I have kept apointment: the +somms redy and present to bee tendred. + +_Clowne_. Who? the _Frenshe_ monster,[48] _Neapolitan_ Seignor, the +man-makarel[49] and marchant of madens-fleshe that deales altogether +in flawed ware and crackt comodityes? the bawdy broker, I meanes, +where a man for his dollers may have choyse of diseases, and som tymes +the pox too, if hee will leeve beehind him a good pawne for it. + +_Raphael_. How thou drummst. + +_Clowne_. Marry qothe hee. So I may happen to bringe it awaye in my +nose. Well I smell some bawdy business or other in hand. They call this +place _Marcellis_ Roade, the cheiff haven towne in _France_, but hee +keepes a road[50] in his oune howse wherein have ridd and bin ridd more +leakinge vessayles, more panderly pinks,[51] pimps and punkes, more +rotten bottoms ballanst, more fly-boates[52] laden and unladen every +morninge and evenning tyde then weare able to fill the huge greate baye +of _Portingall_. Is this all, syr? + +_Raphael_. Yes all, and heares the somme. + +_Clowne_. A small somme of that is worthe all the busines that I am +sent about, for the all in all on't is I am afrayde that all will +proove woorthe nothinge. + +_Treadway_. And yet mee thinkes ere folly you conclude +You should a little stagger. + +_Raphael_. Should? wherein? + +_Treadway_. For many reasons: Il alleadge som fewe. +Who knwes but this your fayre and seeminge saynt, +Thoughe disposd well and in her owne condition +Of promisinge goodnes, yet livinge in the seminary +Of all libidinous actions, spectars, sights, +Even in the open market where sinne's sould +Where lust and all uncleanes are commerst +As freely as comodityes are vended +Amongst the noblest marchants,--who I saye +So confident that dare presume a virgin +Of such a soft and maiden temperature, +Deyly and howerly still sollicited +By gallants of all nations, all degrees, +Allmost all ages, even from upright youth +To the stoopinge and decrepitt-- + +_Raphael_. Heare mee nowe. + +_Treadway_. Two woords and I have doone: the place considered, +The basenes of the person under whome +Shee lyves opprest, a slave of sordid lyfe, +Conditiond with the devill, temptinge still +Sometymes by fayre means, then againe by foul, +To prostitute her for his servyle gaynes; +And next the dissolute crewe with which shees hows'd +Ech night, ech deye perswedinge boathe with toonge +And lewde example; all these circonstances +Duly considered, I shoold dowbt at least, +If not presume, the woorst. + +_Raphael_. Oh you have pleasd mee, +And in proposinge all these difficultyes +Given of her graces ample testimony. +Shee is that miracle, that only one +That cann doo these; wear't comon in the sexe +Twold not appeare to mee so admirable; +It is for these I love her. + +_Treadway_. You are resolvd +And I'l not staye your purpose. + + _Enter the Clowne with Mildewe and Sarleboys his + guest and frende_. + +_Clowne_. I have brought this flesh-fly whome as soone as the butchers +wyves sawe comminge throwghe the shambles, they all of them stood with +theire flapps in theire hands like fanns. I, demandinge the reason itt +was answerd me againe itt was to keepe away his infectious breath least +it should fill theire meate with fly-blowes. + +_Raphael_. Well, mett, good Mr. _Mildewe_. + +_Mildewe_. My returne +Of your salutes I cast belowe your feete. + +_Raphael_. Syr, I am yours to treade on. You will then +Stand to your former bargen? + +_Mildewe_. I weare else +Not woorthy to bee stil'd what I am tearmd, +A trewe venereall broaker. + +_Clowne_. That's in _Italian_ +A damnable hee bawde. + +_Mildewe_ Y'have such a bargen +Marcellis, nor all France, shall yeild the like. +Tis such a deynty peece of purity +Such a coy thinge that[53] hee unto whose lott +She shall hereafter fall may boast himself +To bee a happy husband. For our trade +Shees out at that: neather promises, rewards, +Example or Intreaty, fayre, fowle meanes, +Gaine present or the hope of future goodd, +Can force from her a presens; then much lesse +A frendly prostitution. + +_Raphael_. Hearst thou this? + +_Treadway_. Yes[54] and comende it in her, if that toonge, +Even from his fyrst of speakinge traind to lye, +Can now at lengthe speake truth. + +_Clowne_. Ay theres the dowbt. + +_Sarly_. This too yeares I have quested to his howse, +And knwe all this most certeine. + +_Raphael_. Witnes too. + +_Mildewe_. I doo protest she spoyles my family +And rather growne a hyndrance to my trade +Then benefitt; so that, if not to losse, +I wishe that I were clerly ridd of her, +For shee hathe gott a trick to[55] my whores; +And such as of themselves are impudent, +When shee but coms in presens she makes blushe, +As if ashamd of what they late had doon +Or are about to doo. + +_Clowne_. Well sayde, ould sinner. + +_Raphael_. See, heeres the sum, 3 hundred crownes. + +_Mildewe_. O'th somme. + +_Raphael_. All currant and full weight. + +_Mildewe_. I'l fetch my doughter +That hath no lightnes in her, currant too +As any lasse i'th cittye. + +_Raphael_. _Mildewe_, staye. + +_Clowne_. Staye, oh thou father of fornication and marchant of nothinge +but mesteryes and mischeife; whele about, thou dung[c]art of diseases; +sayle this way thoue galley foyst[56] of galls and garbadge! Dost not +heare my master? staye! + +_Mildewe_. Why, did his worshippe call? + +_Clowne_. Didst thou not heare him call, and mee cry out upon thee? + +_Mildewe_. His pleasure then? + +_Raphael_. I have bethought mee better nowe to keepe +This business secrett, least it chance to arryve +To th'eares of some of my most noble frends; +And not to make it publicke and this honest +Purpose of myne by that meanes misreated,[57] +Heare lett her stay till night bycause I am loath +In th'eye of day to move her through the streetes. + +_Mildewe_. Good, syr. + +_Raphael_. Nwe [Now] in the villaige by, that fronts the sea, +Som halff league off where stands the monastery, +I have bespoake a place to sojorn her. +There I this evening do intend[58] a feast +Where only wee and som fewe private frends +Have purpost to bee jhoviall. To that place +I prithee, with what pryvacy thou canst, +Conduct her and so add unto our guests. + +_Mildewe_. The place I knwe, the tyme is perfect with mee, +And for the feast you saye you have prepared +I shall provyde a stomacke. + +_Raphael_. Her caskett, and such other necessaryes +Included in our bargen, bring alonge +Or lett her mayde do'ot for thee. + +_Mildewe_. I'l not bate her +A ruff or ragge; no pinne that's usefull too her +Will I keepe backe. + +_Raphael_. To this you are witnes, frend. + +_Treadway_. I am, Syr. + +_Mildewe_. So's my guest. + +_Clowne_. And lookes as if with me +Hee only could write witlesse. + +_Raphael_. Supper tyme +You will remember, _Mildewe_. + +_Mildewe_. Possible +I should forgett to eate of others' cost? +It never was my custom. + +_Clowne_. Choake you for't. + +_Raphael_. Come, frend, mee thinks I have doone a deede this day +Crownes all my better actions, for I have raised +An Innocent from the hands of an Infidell agent. + +_Clowne_. Farewell, rott, farewell murreine, adiewe. + +_Mildewe_. Farewell till soone. + + [_Exeunt Raphael, Treadway, and Clowne_. + +_Sarleb_. And do you meane to keepe your promisse then, +And doo as you have sayde? + +_Mildewe_. Why not, I prithee? +What else canst thou advyse mee? + +_Sarleb_. Are not wee +Boathe of a rotten conscience, men debosht, +Secluded from the company of such +As either are or else would stryve to bee +Reputed honest? wherefore then should wee +Keepe tutche with any that professe themselves +Not to bee of our ranke? + +_Mildewe_. Proceede, good frend: +Thou hast putt project in my brayne allredy, +Small tyme woold better fashion. + +_Sarleb_. What if I +Laye such a plotte that you shall gayne these crownes +These full three hundred to your proper use, +And of these peevishe harletryes at home +Make a much greater market? + +_Mildewe_. Marry, syr, +That were a tale worth listeninge. + +_Sarleb_. These crowns +Are all your owne in your possession, +So are the maydes. I knowe you ritche besydes +In coyne and jewells; heere you lyve despysed, +And whats this clime to us of more esteme +Then any forreine region? whores and bawdes +May lyve in every corner of the woorld, +We knowe tis full of sinners. This, this day +Letts hyre a bark; wee dwell upon the haven, +And instantly 'tis done. Shipp all your goods +With these shee-chatteyles; putt this night to sea-- +England they saye is full of whormasters; +There will bee vent for such comoditye, +There strompett them where they (you saye) weare born, +Else you in _Spayne_ may sell them to the stewes, +_Venyce_ or any place of _Italy_; +They are everywhere good chaffer. If not these, +What saye you to _Morocho, Fesse, Algiers_? +Faith these are wares in all parts vendible, +No matter thoughe to _Turke_ and infidell, +So itt bringe gayne and profitt. + +_Mildewe_. Lett me hugg thee +For this, deare frend; heareafter I will style thee +My better genius; thou hast monied mee in this, +Nay landed me, made me thy braynes executor, +And putt mee in a lardge possession. +Go hyre a barke. + +_Sarlab_. I shall. + +_Mildewe_. And instantly. + +_Sarlab_. I shall. + +_Mildewe_. Ere night wee'l putt into a sea +No larger then our full stretcht consciences. +Lett mee once more Imbrace thee. + [_Exeunt_. + + +SCENA 2. + + _Enter an Abbot with his covent[59] of Fryars, amongst + them Fryar Jhon, and Fryar Ritchard_. + +_Abbot_. As I have heare priority of place, +Boathe by our patrons favour and your voyce, +So give me leave to arbitrate amongst you. + +_Fr. Jhon_. Without respect of person wee acknowledge you. +Our prince and cheiff. + +_Fr. Rich_. And to your fatherly +And grave advyse humbly submitt our selves. + +_Abbot_. Knwe then in this small covent, which consysts +Only of 12 in nomber, fryars I meane +And us the Abbat, I have fownde amongst you +Many and grosse abuses; yet for the present +I will insist on fewe. Quarrells, debates, +Whisperinge, supplantinges, private calumnyes, +These ought not bee in such a brotherhood. +Of these Fryar _Jhon_ and thou Fryar _Richard_ are +Accused to bee most guilty, ever jarring +And opposite to peace. + +_Fr. Jhon_. The faults in him. + +_Fr. Rich_. As in all other thinges, so even in this +Hee still is apt to wronge mee. + +_Fr. Jhon_. Hee that fyrst gives th'occation, fyrst complaines: +It ever was his fashion. + +_Fr. Rich_. Never myne: +I appeale to the whole covent. + +_Abbot_. Mallyce rooted, +I finde, is woondrous hard to bee supprest. +But knwe where consell and advise preveyle not, +The fayrest meanes that I can wourk your peace, +I'l take upon mee my authority, +And where I finde in you the least contempt +I shall severely punishe. + +_Fr. Jhon_. I submitt. + +_Fr. Rich_. I yeeld myself to your grave fatherhood. + +_Abbot_. Consider, sonnes, this cloystered place of ours +Is but newe reared; the founder, hee still lyves, +A souldier once and eminent in the feild, +And after many battayles nowe retyrd +In peace to lyve a lyff contemplative. +Mongst many other charitable deedes, +Unto religion hee hathe vowed this howse, +Next to his owne fayre mantion that adjoynes +And parted only by a slender wall. +Who knwes but that hee neighboring us so neare +And havinge doone this unto pious ends, +May carry over us and our behavioures +An austere eye of censure? + +_Fr. Jhon_. Fitt therefore +Wee should bee in our actions cautelous.[60] + +_Fr. Rich_. And carefull least wee may incurr displeasure +Of such a noble patron. + +_Abbot_. Well observ'd. +His bewtious Lady-- + +_Fr. Jhon_. A sweete soule indeede. + +_Fr. Rich_. On whom Fryar _Jhon_ casts many a leering eye: +I have observd that too. + +_Abbot_. Boath for her outward feature +And for her inward graces excellent +Beyond compare, shee lykewyse is to us +A worthy benefactor. + +_Fr. Rich_. Tis confest. + +_Fr. Jhon_. Would I might com to bee her confessor: +It is a fayre sweete lady. + +_Fr. Rich_.[61] Howe the lecher +Hugges at the very name. + +_Abbot_. Morninge and eveninge +They deyly com to mattens and to evensonge; +Such and so greate is theire devotion. +That, if not crasd or feylinge in theire healthe, +They do not misse us any hower of prayer; +And therefore it behooves us all in generall +To sett a carefull watche upon our deedes, +Least we that are proffest religious +Bee in the least deffective. + +_Fr. Richard_. Noate, Fryar _Jhon_, +Howe hee makes anticke faces and in scorne +Of this your reverent counsell. + +_Fr. Jhon_. I, alas? +A weaknes from my childhood, I confesse, +I ever had and cannott helpe it nowe, +To have a trobled countenance. I make mouthes? +This (most observed father) but approoves +My innosens and his envye. Markt you that? +Fryar _Richard_ bent his fyst and threatned mee. +I call all these to witnesse. + +_Fr. Rich_. No such thinge. +I have a crampe oft takes me in this hand +And makes mee weare clutcht ringers, and that passion +Now came upon mee; but for meanacinge him +It ever was farr from mee. This but showes +His owld inveterate mallice, which in charity +I wishe might heare lye buried.--Syrrah, anon +I'l have you by the eares. + +_Fr. Jhon_. Doo if thou darst; +We'll tugge it out by the teeth. + +_Fr. Rich_. Meete me i'th orchard +Just after even song. + +_Fr. Jhon_. I will make short prayers +Bycause I'l keepe appointment. + +_Abbot_. I am playne +And breife with all: eather betwixt you too [_sic_] +Make frendly reconsilement, and in presence +Of this your brotherhood (for what is fryar +But _frater_, and that's brother?), or my selfe +Out of my power will putt you to a penance +Shall make you in one weeke fyve fasting-dayes. + +_Fr. Jhon_. Oh terrible! + +_Abbot_. Or, if that will not tame you, +I will complayne to'th fownder of your loosenes, +Your riotts, and disorders, and petition +That you, as sowers off seditious hatred[62] +And sole disturbers of our common peace, +Maye bee excluded this society, +Banisht by common barre-law, and shutt out +To publick shame and beggerye. + +_Fr. Rich_. Horrible! + +_Fr. Jhon_. Fyrst then to showe my submisse willingnes +And forwardnes withall: with as much charity +As any new reformed man maye doo, +I with a zeale and hart new reconsiled +Thus humbly begge his love. +(Y'are a rogue, _Ritchard_.) + +_Fr. Rich_. To meete his trewe +And most unfeigned affection, heare in face +And viewe of this our holly brotherhoode, +As if in open coort with this mi[63] breath +I heare confine all hatred. +(_Jhon_, y'are a Jack sauce, I meane a sawcye Jacke.) + +_Fr. Jhon_. The orchard. + +_Fr. Rich_. Theare. + +_Abbot_. Why, this is as it should bee, and becomes +A trew religious order. Such as are sequestred +And vowed unto a strict monasticke lyfe, +Ought to putt off these grosse and prophane sinnes +Most frequent amongst laye-men. Unity, +Due conformation and fraternall love. +Devotion, hott zeale, and obediens; these +Are vertues that become a cloyster best. +Nowe lett's retyre unto our oresons +And p[r]eye for our good fownders; may they still +Grow to our wishe and thryve to theire owne will. + + [_Exeunt all but Friar Jhon_. + +_Fr. Jhon_. More then I woold to have my wishe on thee, +_Richard_, though I have a good stomacke too't, +Ey, and to baste thee sowndly, I woold nowe +To have my will one her. Tis a sweete creature; +Our patron owld, shee younge; som hope in that. +Besydes, shee's woondrous kind and affable; +And when we duck or congee, smiles as if +Shee tooke som pleasure in our shaven crownes. +I am the fyrst that every morninge, when +Shee passes through the cloyster to her prayers, +Attend her with good morrowe, pray for her health. +For her content and pleasure, such as canott bee +Hop't or expected from her husband's age; +And these my frendly wishes she returnes +Not only in kind language but sweete smiles, +The least of which breede som Incoradgement. +I will, if shee persist to proove thus kind, +If not to speeke my thoughts, to wryte my mynd. + + [_Exit_. + + + +SCENA TERTIA. + + + _Thunder_. + + _Enter after a greate Tempestuous storme Mr. Ashburne + an Englishe marchant and his man Godfrey_. + +_Ashburne_. Was ever knowne such a tempestuous night +Of thunder, hayle, wynd, lightninge! Twas as if +The fower seditious brothers threatned warr +And weare but nowe at battayle. + +_Godfrey_. The fower winds you meane; blusteringe fellowes they are. +Preye God all be well at sea, for I am sure the roofes tyles and +ridges have payde for it a shewer.[64] + +_Ashb_. The very rafters of the howses bend; +Some breake and are demolisht; barnes blowne downe; +The very chimneyes rattle ore our heads; +The strongest buildinges tremble just as if +Theire is above a tempest, so belowe +There weare a fearefull earth-quake. + +_Godfrey_. All our howses +Are nothinge nowe but windowes, broad bay windowes +So spatious that carts laded may drive throughe +And neather loush oth' topp or eathere syde. +Lights every where, we shall have lightnes inoughe: +Heares stupid woork for daubers! + +_Ashburne_. We are forct +All to forsake the villaige and to fly +Unto the feilds for succor. + +_Godfrey_. Syr, it putt me +In minde of the greate King _Agathocles_, +Who was, as I have heard you oft relate, +Brain'd with a Tyle. Why may not meaner men +Then feare the fall of brick batts? + + _Enter Raphael, Treadway, and the Clowne_. + +_Treadway_. A strange night +And full of terror; yet, thanks heaven, well past. + +_Raphael_. Oh, but I feare the greater storms to come, +A gust that will more shake mee. + +_Clowne_. More, quothe hee; I can scarce see howe that well can bee, +for I can assure you the garrett that I laye in putt mee in mind of +myne infancye, for I lye all the night longe as if I had bin rockt +in a cradle. + +_Raphael_. Oh, frend, I feare this false and perjur'd slave, +That hathe not kept apointment, hath deceiv'd mee +Boathe of my coyne and pretious marchandyse. + +_Clowne_. Did you ever looke for better from a Judas [?] of his +he[yre]?[65] + +_Raphael_. Which if hee have-- + +_Clowne_. Why then hee hathe, and the mends is in y'r owne hands: +that's all that I can say too't. + +_Raphael_. Hee hathe undone mee dubly. + +_Treadway_. Hope the best. +Perhapps the threatninge weather kept him backe: +Itt was a trobled skye, the soon set blusheing, +The rack cam swiftly rushing from the west; +And these presadges of a future storme, +Unwillinge for to trust her tendernes +Unto such feares, might make him fayle his hower; +And yet with purpose what hee slack't last night +Howe to make goodd this morninge. + +_Raphael_. Oh you tent[66] +My woonds too gently, dally with my dowbts +And flutter my trewe feares: the even was calme, +The skye untrobled, and the soon went downe +Without disturbance in a temperate ayr. +No, not the least conjecture coold be made +Of such a suddeine storme, of which the woorld +Till after midnight was not sensible. +His hower was supper, and in faylinge that-- + +_Clowne_. Ey, nowe begin I to feare too for thee. Breake his woord if +it bee to com to dinner or supper! I'l never trust his bond for the +valewe of a threepenny ordenarye after. + +_Raphael_. Post you back to the citty; make inquiries +And most strickt search to find that _Mildewe_ out; +Whom if you meete, fyrst rate his last neclect, +Then hasten his repayer. Heare you shall finde mee +Or in the waye home; for in all this villaige +I woll not leave a howse, a place unsearcht. +If where hee dwells you misse him, then demande +Att every bey what shippinge late went out. +If any vowed love still remane betwixt us, +Make it appear nowe in your present care +And expedition. + +_Treadw_. I'l be your _Mercury_, +Not fayle you in the least. + +_Raphael_. And so betwixt us +Increase a frendshipp that was never flawed. + + [_Exit[67] Treadway_. + +_Ashburne_. This gentleman, itt seemes, hathe in this tempest +Sustein'd som losse, he appears so much disturb'd. + +_Clowne_. See, syr, heare are some it may bee beelonge to this +villadge; you had best aske of them. + +_Raphael_. And well advysed. Hayle, father! + +_Godfrey_. No more hayle if you love mee; we had too much of that +last night. + +_Ashburne_. Of what sexe are you that you call me so? +I have bene father of a doughter once, +Though not these many yeares blest with her sight, +But of a soone yet never. + +_Raphael_. What you have lost +May you in som most fayer and fortunate hower +Againe find to your comfort. + +_Ashburne_. You wishe well. + +_Raphael_. Sawe you not bowte this villadge late last night, +Or early now i'th morninge, a short fellowe +Thin heyred, flat nosed, sand-bearded and squint eyde? + +_Clowne_. The mapp of misfortune and very picture of ill luck. + +_Raphael_. Grosse-wasted, gowty-legg'd. + +_Clowne_. Whose face is puft up like a bladder and whose belly +lyke a toonne. + +_Raphael_. Owld, graye and hoary. + +_Clowne_. And withall cheatinge, cousininge, and crafty; a remarkable +raskall, a damnable deceiver, and a most substantiall cinner. + +_Ashburne_. By such I have much suffred in my state, +Opprest almost to utmost penury +In my once better fortune; but so late +I sawe not any such. + +_Raphael_. Hee was expected +To bee attended by too [_sic_] handsome gurles, +Boathe younge, boathe fayre, but th'one unparreld [_sic_]; +Neather of which by computation +Hathe told so hye as twenty. + +_Ashb_. If such I chance to meete by accident +I'l send you notyce. Please you leave your name +And place of your abode. + +_Raphael_. _Raphael_ I am cald, +A marchant in _Marcellis_, and my lodginge +Is at the _Parratt_ in the markett-place; +There you shall finde mee knowne. + +_Ashb_. And by that name +Presume I'l not forgett you. + +_Raph_. For which curtesy, +Fare you well, syr; +You shall oblighe mee to you. If not heare +Weele seeke her further; _France_ shall not conteine them +But I will finde theire start-holes. + +_Ashb_. Good speede with you. + +_Clowne_. If I weare a dogge nowe and coold hunt dry foote[68] +I could smell them out presently. + + [_Exeunt[69] Raphael and Clown_. + +_Ashb_. Come lett us mount ourselfes upon these rockes +And, havinge feelinge of our hurts at land, +Letts see what shyppes have ben distrest at sea, +If any shaken in this storme or wreckt; +And though wee cannot help the miserable +Yet lett them taste our pittye. + +_Godfrey_. Sir, content; but I hope your fishermen have not putt to +sea this night. If they have I sweare they have showed themselves +much madder then the tempest. + +_Ashb_. I hope they have bin more discreate and wyse +Then with the hazard of my boates and netts +To indanger theire owne lyves. + +_Godfr_. See: do you see, Syr? + +_Ashb_. What? + +_Godfr_. Why, yonder. + +_Ashb_. Where? + +_Godfr_. There towards yon shore. + +_Ashb_. A shipp laboringe for liffe +Nowe cast upon the rocks, nowe splitt, nowe sinkinge, +Nowe dasht to peeces. + +_Godfr_. I see all mischeifes do not com by land, +Som's doone upon the water. + +_Ashb_. Though theire goodes perishe, +Yet in thy mercy, heaven, protect theire lyves. +Som sitt upon the planks, som on the masts, +Som hange upon the cables, and som few +Have only gott the cock-boat; others swimme. +Oh that wee shoold beehold theire misery +And want power to assiste them! + +_Godfr_. Sure, syr, it was som shipp of passengers, +For see you not too women? daynty ducks! +Would they coold swime as ducks can, see how they spread +And cast theire legges abroad lyke naked frogges! +See howe they spread theire armes and stryve for lyfe! +I[70] would I weare som Dolphin or some whayle +That they might sitt astryde upon my backe +To beare them safe ashore; but I as yet +Could neare indure still water. See yet still, +Still theire coates beare them upp, keepe them aloft; +The modest ayer not willinge to discover +That which the bawdy waves shame not belowe +Rudely to lifte and handle. + +_Ashb_. Blesse them heaven! +The wind and tyde still beate them towards the shore, +But oh that cursed billowe hath devyded +And parted them asunder. Yet all's well; +They still beare upp. If they but scape the next +There may bee hope of safetye. + +_Godfr_. One's driven this way, +The tother that; the men shift for themselves, +Howe shall we save thes women? + +_Ashb_. No meanes unlesse we leape downe from the rockes, +And that's meare desperation. Yet to showe +Our charityes to wretches thus extreame, +Lett's see if wee can find the least descent +And hasten to theire suckor. + +_Godfr_. By your favour, +I had rather they with brine shoold break their bellys +Then I my neck with clamberinge. + + _Explicit Actus primus_. + + + + +_Actus 2_. + +SCENA PRIMA. + + + _Storme continewed. Enter Palestra all well, as newly + shipwreckd and escapt the fury of the seas_. + +_Palestra_.[71] Is this then the reward of Innocense, +Of goodness to our selfes, namely chast lyfe, +Pietye to our parents, love to all, +And above all our Christian zeale towardes heaven? +But why shoold wee poore wretches thus contest +Against the powers above us, when even they +That are the best amongst us are servd badd? +Alas, I never yet wrongd man or child, +Woman or babe; never supplanted frend +Or sought revendge upon an enemy. +You see yet howe we suffer; howe shall they then +That false their faythes, that are of uncleane lyfe +And then not only sinne unto them selves +But tempt and persuade others? what shall I thinke +Becoms of my base guardian? though the waves +Have spared the guiltles, sure his putrid s[oule][72] +Cannot escape heavens justyce! wee poor wretches +Are punishe [_sic_] for his grosse impietyes, +They mov'd heavens wrathe, who stir'd the winds and waves +Stryvinge whose fury should destroy us fyrst. +These boathe conspyringe in our ruinne, th'one +Beate us belowe the billowes whilst the other +Swallowed boathe shippe and goodes; [amongst] the rest +A[73] budget or portmantau which includes +All the bawdes wealth. But that weare nothinge to mee +Though he had vowed and sworne to make mee his heyer; +The losse I so lament is a small caskett +Kept by him from my childhood, and packt up +Amongst his treasure; and that perishinge, +I forfett the longe expectation +Ever to knowe my parents, therefore wishe +With it I had i'th sea been buried. + + _Enter Scribonia_. + +_Scrib_. With perill of oft fallinge and the danger +Of second deathe, having new scapt the fyrst, +I have with feare and terror clim'd these rocks, +And these too past I feare to meete a thyrd. +I spy no howse, no harbor, meete no creature +To point mee to some shelter; therefore heare +Must starve by famine or expire by could. +O'th sea the whystlinge winds still threaten wreckes, +And flyinge nowe for refuge to the lande +Find nought save desolation. Thoughe these three, +Three dreadfull deaths all spare mee, yeat a fowerth, +I cannot shoone [shun] in my _Palestras_ losse, +More[74] deare to mee then all the world besides, +For the best blood of myne runns in her veynes, +This lyfe breath in her bosom. Oh my _Palestra_! + +_Palestr_. Numnes and feare, hungar and sollitude, +Besydes my casket, my _Scribonia's_ losse, +All these at once afflict mee. + +_Scrib_. Notheinge mee +More than _Palestra's_ deathe. Ha, who's that spake? +Suer twas som womans voyce! if my _Palestra_ +Only for her sake I coulde wishe to live. + +_Pal_. Then lyve, my deere _Scribonia_, synce I am only +Spar'd to partake with thee newe miseryes. + +_Scrib_. Scarce can I bee perswaded you are shee: +But, bee yt but her shadowe, give mee leave +For her remembrance to imbrace it thus. + +_Palest_. These armes at once locke all my lyvinge hopes +In my restored _Scribonia_. + +_Scrib_. Nowe I perceave +My comfort is not meare imaginary +But reall and effectuall. Lyve you then? + +_Pal_. To triumphe in your safety. + +_Scrib_. Possible +That mongst these desert unfrequented rocks +Thou can imadgine such a thing can be +As that which you call safety? + +_Pal_. Yes, _Scribonia_, +And comfort too; for, see, I spy a villadge, +A maner and a fayre built monastery, +Just at the foott of this descendeinge hill. +And where, if not amongst religious men, +Shoold we find that's calld charity? + +_Scrib_. Thether, then: +Lett[75] us make hast with all the speede we can: +Fyre at the least I hope it [is?] well assured, +Besydes releiffe and harbor. + +_Pal_. Can you begge? + +_Scrib_. What will not rude necessity compell +Distressed folke to doo? We'll not doo't basely, +For beinge brought upp to musick and to sing, +Demandinge in that kind there charity, +And they perceivinge us much better bred +Then these our present fortunes might deserve, +May move in them compassions. + +_Pal_. Lett's retyre +To the backe gate then, there complane our wants +And that which others doo with impudence +Lett us in shame and blushes. + +_Scrib_. Som sweete echo +Speake from these walls and answer to our wants, +And eather lend som comfort to our grieffs +Or send us hence dispayringe and asham'd. + + [_They go in_. + +_Pal_. _Oh charity where art thou fled, +And nowe how longe hast thou been dead? + +Answer within. Oh many many many hundred yeares + +Scrib. In villadge, borrough, towne or citty +Remaines there yet no grace, no pitty? + +Answ. Not in sighes, not in want, not in teares. + +Pal. Cold comfort in this answer; but proceede. + +Above. we see a threatninge skye. + +Answ. Beelowe the winds and gusts blowe hye, +And all all to fright hence this same juell. + +Scrib. The lightninges blast, the thunders cracke, +The billows menace nought save wracke. + +Answ. And yet man is then these much more crewell. + +Pal. Unless my judgment quite miscarry, +Shee may lyve in som monastery. + +Answ. Tis a place too that was fyrst assigned her. + +Scrib. If not amongst religious men, +Yett where, where shall wee seeks her then? + +Answ. Yet even there, there, you scarce scarce can find her. + +Pal. If chastity and Innocens tryde +Have boathe escaped wind and tyde-- + +Answ. Yet oh why should the land, land these cherish? + +Scrib. Of whome even billowes have a care, +Whom seas preserve, whom tempests spare-- + +Answ. Yet these these amongst men may perishe._ + +_Pal_. Uncharitable echo! from a place +Of pure devotion canst thou answer that? +If not in these religious monasteries, +In what place can we find could charity? + +_Scrib_. Where ere wee meete her shee is lyke our selfes, +Bare, without harbor, weake and comfortles. + + _Enter Fryer John_. + +_Fr. Jhon_. What singeinge beggers were those at the gate +That would so early rowse our charity, +Before it was half styrringe or awake? + + _Enter Fryer Richard_. + +I thinke I answerd them in such a way +As I beleeve scarce pleas'd them. + +_Fr. Rich_. What sweete musick +Was that at the back gate hath cald mee upp +Somwhat before my hower? + +_Fr. Jhon_. Morrow, fryar _Richard_: +Howe did you lyke our last night's buffetinge? +Whilst all the rest of our fraternity +In feare of that greate tempest weare att prayers, +Wee too pickt out that tyme of least suspition +And in the orchard hand to hand weare att it. + +_Fr. Rich_. Tis trew for blooddy noses; and, Fryar _Jhon_, +As you lyke that which is allredy past +So chalendge mee hereafter. But whence cam +Those sweete and delicate voyces? + +_Fr. Jhon_. I bare part +In theire sadd quire though none of these yet knw't. +But peace: our Father Abbat. + + _Enter the Abbot with other fryars_. + +_Abbott_. Morrow, soonns, +An early blessinge on you, if as the larke +Rysen beetymes still to salute the soon, +So your devotion pluckes you from your bedds +Beefore your hower unto your orisons. +Did you not heare a musicall complaynt +Of women that in sadd and mournefull tones +Bewayld theire late disasters, harshly answerd +By a churlish echo? + +_Fr. Jhon_. Som such thinge wee heard. + +_Fr. Rich_. The noates still persist with mee. + +_Pal_. There appeares +In his grave lookes bothe zeele and charity; +Letts to his sight boldly expose ourselfes. +Hayle, reverent father! + +_Abbot_. What are you poore soules +Thus wett and wether-bitt? + +_Scrib_. Ere you demand +Further from us, letts tast your Christian charity, +Som fyare, som harbor, least ere our sadd tale +Bee fully tould wee perishe. + +_Abbot_. Why, whence came you? + +_Pal_. From sea; our shipp last night in the great storme +Cast on these rocks and split; this the fyrst place +Exposed unto our eyes to begge releiff. +But oh I faynt. + +_Abbot_. Some[76] faggotts instantly: +Hott brothes, hott water for them, and warme cloathes. +Whome the high powers miraculously preserve, +Whome even the merciles waves have borne ashore, +Shall we soe sinke a land? Even wee our selfes +That lyve and eate by others charity, +To others shall not wee bee charitable? +All succor, all supply that can be given, +They from our hands shall tast. + +_Fr. Jhon_. Shall we remove them +Into the cloyster? + +_Fr. Rich_. Tis agaynst our oath +On any, though the great'st, extremity +To addmitt women thether. + +_Abbot_. That I knowe: +Yet in som out-office see them chear'd, +Want nothinge that the cloyster can affourd. +Theire bewtyes, though my eye be bleynd at them, +Deserve no lesse; I looke on theire distresse +And that I pitty. Ech one lend a hand +To take off from theire present misery +And ease theire tender shoulders; when they are cheer'd +And better comforted, I'l finde occatione +To enquire further from them. + +_Pal_. Heaven be as kind +To you as you to us! + +_Abb_. Feare not fayre damselles: +This place, though not within the monastery, +Yet stands within the cloysters previledge +And shallbee unto you a sanctuary. + +_Scrib_. No other wee expect it. + +_Abb_. Guide them in: [_Bell ring_. +Bewty and youthe to pitty 'tis no sinne. + + _The bell ringes to mattens. Enter the Lord de Averne + and his Lady. Dennis and others_. + +_Fr. Jhon_. Harke, the bell ringes to mattens. + +_Fr. Rich_. See withall +Our noble patron with his lovely lady +Prepare for theire devotion. Nowe, Friar _Jhon_, +Your letcherous eye is conninge. + +_Fr. Jhon_. I knowe my place. + +_Abbott_. Way for our noble founder! + +_L. Aberne_. Morrowe, father; +So to the rest of all the brotherhood. + + [_The quire and musick; the fryars make a lane + with ducks and obeysance_. + +_Voyces. Te tuosque semper, oh semper beamus, +Et salvos vos venisse, o venisse gaudeamus._ + +_Fr. Jhon_. Good daye to our fayre foundresse! + +_Lady_. Mercy, Fryar _Jhon_; +Above the rest you are still dutifull, +For which wee kindly thanke you. + + [_Exeunt: manet Jhon_. + +_Fr. Jhon_. Kindly thanke you! +Nay, smyld withall! allthough that I have more +Then a monthes mind[77] to these younge harletryes +Yet heares the grownd on which I fyrst must build +And ryse my fortunes many steepes[78] hye. +Nay, I perhapps, ere they can drye there smocks, +Will putt th'affayre in motion, whyle these are +Att solleme mattens. I'l take pen and wryte, +And sett my mind downe in so quaint a strayne +Shall make her laughe and tickle, whylst I laughe +And tickle with the thought on't, still presuminge +These lookes, these smyles, these favours, this sweete language +Could never breathe, butt have theire byrthe from love. +But how to ha'tt delivered? there's the dowbt. +Tush I have plott for that too; hee, no questione, +That sett mee on to compasse this my will, +May when the up-shoote comes assist mee still. + + [_Exit_. + + + +SCENA 2. + + [_Tempest. Thunder_. + + _Enter 2 Fishermen_. + +_1st Fish_. The trobled sea is yet scarce navigable +Synce the last tempest: yet wee that only lyv +By our owne sweatt and labour, nor cann eate +Beffore[79] wee fetch our foode out of the sea, +Must ventur thoughe with daunger or bee suer +With empty stomakes go unsupt to bed. + +_2nd Fish_. And so it often happens. + +_1 Fish_. See the cordaige +Be stronge and tight, the netts with all theire stringes, +Plometts, and corks, well plac't for hookes and bates, +This daye wee shall have little use of them: +The wind's still hye, beare but a gentle sayle +And hazard not the channele. Keepe alonge +Close by the shoare, the rocks will shelter us +And may perhapps affoord us lobsters, praunes, +Shrimps, crabbes, and such lyke shell fishe; hence[80] we may +Hunt the sea urchen, and with safety too; +There's many holde hime for a dayntye fishe, +Hee sells well in the markett. That poore men +Are forct too, for a slender competens, +A little to prolonge a wretched lyfe! + +_2 Fish_. Com then lett us weighe anchor and aboord: +The soone is upp allredy. + + _Enter the Clowne_. + +_Clowne_. If ever menn weare madd then suer my master is not well in his +witts, and all about this wenshe; here's such sendeinge and seekeinge, +hurriinge and posteinge, and all to no purpose. I have nowe some thyrty +errands to deliver and knowe not to whome nor where, what nor to which +place fyrst; hee's gone on to the citty and sent mee back to the +villaige, whither his frend travelled[81] one waye, hee another, and I +a thyrd contrary from them boathe; he cannott beleeve his inquiry to be +well doone but hee must send me to doo't over againe. I have asked all +I mett and demanded of all I have seene.[82] But what are theese? these +should bee fishermen. Good morrowe, you sea theeves.[83] + +_1 Fish_. You call us theeves that may proove honester +Than many goe for trewe[84] men on the shore. + +_Clowne_. Sawe[85] you not passe this [way] an ould bald fellowe +hutch-shoolderd, crooked nos'd, beetle browd, with a visadge lowreing +and a looke skowlinge; one that heaven hates and every good man +abhors; a cheatinge raskall and an ugly slave,--did note such passe +you? + +_1 Fish_. If such a one as you describe you inquire for, +Mee thinks, my frend, thou hast mistooke thy way; +Thou shouldst have sought him at the gallowes rather, +There such are soonest fownd. + +_Clowne_. Byrlady, worst answered of a playne fellowe; but that you may +knowe him the better, hee had too handsome streete-singing-fact lasses +in his companye. + +_2 Fish_. And for such creatures y'had best search the stewes +O'th citty; this our villadge yields none such. +This fellowe doth but flowte us; letts aboord. + +_1 Fish_. Inquire for us of wenshes? tush, wee fishe +For no such perewinkles; farewell flesh mongere. + + [_Ex. Fish_. + +_Clowne_. No wonder these fellowes pretend to be witty; for +understandinge, so manye have lost there witts as ... they have fisht +for it and in som drawenett or other have caught it. But where might +these lost shrewes bee? I suspect this pestiferous _Je vous prie_ hathe +putt some slovenly tricke or other to cheate my mayster boathe of his +ware and mony. + + _Enter Scribonia with an empty pale to y'e Clow_. + +_Scribon_. Thus beinge chered with warmth, and change of clothes, +With all such comforts as the cloyster yeelds, +I am dyrected to a neighbours by +For water to refreshe and wash our selves. +And this shoold bee the howse. + +_Clowne_. What! not _Scribonia_, +One of the flock that's missing? + +_Scrib_. Oh sweete _Jayms_, +Where is your noble maister? + +_Clowne_. Nay, sweete rogue, +Where is his bewteous mystresse? + +_Scrib_. Heare within. + +_Clowne_. In this place joyninge to the monastery? +And _Mildewe_ too? + +_Scrib_. Rott on that villeyne! no. + +_Clowne_. Hee promist to bringe you too alonge and meete with my master +and som others of his frends att supper. + +_Scrib_. Can such men, ever false unto theire God, +Keepe faythe with men at any tyme? + +_Clowne. _But staye, staye, there's one riddle I cannot expound: howe +com thou so suddenly to lepp out of a howse of roguery into a howse of +religion, from a stewes to a cloyster, from beastleness to blessednes +and from a sacrilegious place to a sanctuary? + +_Scrib_. Such was the grace heaven sent us, who from perill, +Danger of lyfe, the extreamest of all extreames +Hathe brought us to the happy patronage +Of this most reverent abbott. + +_Clowne_. What dangers? what extreames? + +_Scrib_. From the sea's fury, drowneing; for last night +Our shipp was splitt, wee cast upon these rocks. + +_Clowne_. Sayd in a jest, in deede! Shipwreck by land![86] I perceive +you tooke the woodden waggen for a ship and the violent rayne for the +sea, and by cause some one of the wheeles broake and you cast into some +water plashe, you thought the shipp had splitt and you had bene in +danger of drowneinge. + +_Scrib_. Are you then ignorant how, late in the even, +With purpose to make better sale of us +And to defraude thy maister, hee shipt us +With all the gold and jewels that hee had, +All which save wee are perisht? + +_Clowne_. But that caterpiller, that ould catamiting cankerworme, +what's become of him? + +_Scrib_. Dead I hope, with drinkinge of salte water. + +_Clowne_. I would all of his profession had pledged him the same +healthe. But how doth _Palestra_ take this? + +_Scrib_. Gladd to bee rid of such a slavery, +Yet sadly weepinge for her casket's losse, +That which included ample testimony +Bothe of her name and parents. + +_Clowne_. All her ill luck go with it![87]--Heere will be simple newes +to bringe to my mayster when hee hears shee hath bene shippwreckt! Il +make him beleeve I went a fishinge for her to sea and eather drewe her +ashore in my netts, or batinge my hooke strooke her and drewe her upp +by the gills with myne angle. Make you hast for I'l staye till you +come back. [_Exit_. + +_Scrib_. But this delaye had allmost putt me from +What I was sent about; yes this is the place. + [_Knocks_. + + _Enter Godfrey_. + +[_Godf_.] Whoes that that offers violens to these gates +That never yet offended? What want you? + +_Scrib_. That which the earthe +Dothe forebidd none, and freely yelds to all, +A little fayre springe water. + +_Godfr_.--One of those giurles +Beelyke this morninge shippwrackt and now scapt? +A dainty peece of maydes fleshe. Such sweete bitts +Are not heare often swallowed, and my mouth +Waters at this fine morsell. + +_Scrib_. Water, frend; +Tis that I crave for heaven's sake. + +_Godfr_. Wee have none +Of guift, unless you by't. + +_Scrib_. Will you sell that +The earthe affourds you gratis, and sett pryse +Of what a foe would yeeld an enemy? + +_Godfr_. Not, pretty lasse, so thou'lt afford mee that, +Freely and without bargen, which not only +One frend will to another but oft tymes +A stranger to a stranger. + +_Scrib_. What's that, prithee? + +_Godfr_. Only a kisse, sweete wensh. + +_Scrib_. Ye are too familiar, +I'l by none at that pryse: or fill my pale +Or I'l returne back empty. + +_Godfr_. Well for once +I will not greatly stand out, yet in hope, +That what att our fyrst meetinge you'l not grant +You'l not denye at partinge; reatch thy pale. + +_Scrib_. Quick as you love mee. + +_Godfr_. As you love mee! right: +Who[88] ever lov'd that lov'd not att fyrst sight? +The poet's excellent sayeinge. + [_Exit[89] to draw water_. + +_Scrib_. What shall I saye or howe shall I excuse +This my longe staye? but nowe I cast myne eyes +Backe on the roughe yet unappeased seas, +I quake to thinke upon our dangers past. +But see the fearefull object of a death +More menacinge and affrightfull, a sea monster +Cast from the deepes to swallow us ashore! +Malevolent fate and black desaster still +Pursues us to all places, but of all + _Enter Myldew and Sarlaboys to her_. +This, this the greatest, and to this one compard +All that are past but trifles. Oh that grand maister +Of mechall[90] lusts, that bulke of brothelree, +That stillary of all infectious sinnes, +Hath scapt the wrack, and with his fellowe guest +And partner in corruption makes this waye, +And with no tarde pace. Where shall I hyde mee! +Whether shall I fly to _Palestra_ back +And with this sadd relation kill her quite +That's scarce recovered! rather, you hy powers, +Then to prolonge our griefes, shorten our howers. + [_Exit_. + +_Godfr_. Where[91] is my daynty damosella? where? +Mee thought the water mett mee the half way +And lept up full three stepps to meete my pale. +This 'tis when as a man goes willingly +About his busines. Howe fresh a kisse will tast +From her whyte lipps! and every part besydes +From head to toe have bin so lately duckt +And rincht in the salt water. Wheres my sweete? +Not heare? no where? why, hoe, my whytinge mopp[92] +Late scapt from feedinge haddocks! ha, what, gone? +Nay then, go thou too that shee sent mee for, +To him that next shall find thee! yet not so: +This learned pale instructs mee by these letters +That it beelonges unto this monastery. +And iff it shoold be lost by my default +I may be chardged with theft or sacriledge. +No, I'l deliver it to the owners suer,[93] +And this the place. + + _Enter the Bawde Mildewe and Sarlaboyse_. + +_Mild_. Hee that woold stoody to bee miserable +Lett him forsake the land and putt to sea. +What widgeing,[94] that hath any voyce at all, +Would trust his safety to a rotten planke +That hath on earthe sounde footinge! + +_Sarlab_. None but madmen. + +_Mild_. Why thou of none, thrifty and well advised, +Stryvest thou to make mee such, where's now the gayne +And proffitt promist? the riche marchandyse +Of lust and whooringe? the greate usury +Got by the sale of wantons? these cursed jewelryes +With all the wealthe and treasure that I had,[95] +All perisht in one bottom, and all, all, +Through thy malicious counsell. + +_Sarlab_. Curse thy selfe. +The trusty bark, ore laden with thy sinnes, +Baudryes, grosse lyes, thy theft and perjuryes +Beesydes the burdene of thy ill gott gooddes, +Not able to indure so greate a weight +Was forct to sinke beneathe them.[96] + +_Mild_. Out, dogge! + +_Sarl_. Out, devill! + +_Mild_. By thee I am made nothinge. Oh my giurles +You sweete and never faylinge marchandyse, +Comodityes in all coasts, worthy coyne, +Christiane or heathen! by whom in distresses +I coold have raysed a fortune! more undoone +That I should loose you thus! + +_Sarl_. I knowe hee had rather +See halfe a hundred of them burnt[97] a land +Then one destroyde by water. But, oh _Neptune_, +I feare I have supt so much of thy salt brothe +Twill bringe mee to a feavour. + +_Mild_. Oh my _Palestra_ +And fayre _Scribonia_, weare but you too safe, +Yet som hope weare reserved me. + +_Sarl_. I praye, _Mildewe_, +When you so early to the bottom dyv'd, +For whom weare you a fishinge? + +_Mild_. Marry, for maydens; +Woold I knewe howe to catch them. But my gutts, +Howe they are sweld with sea brine! + +_Sarl_. Tis good phisick +To cure thee of the mangy. + +_Mild_. Wretched man! +That have no more left of a magazine +Then these wett cloathes upon mee, nay the woorst +Of all I had and purposely put on +Only to lyv a shipp-board. + +_Sarl_. Once to-day +Thou wert in wealthe above mee, nowe the seas have +Left us an equall portion. + +_Mild_. In all the wourld +I vowe I am not woorthe a lighted faggott +Or a poore pan of charcoale. + +_Sarl_. Justly punisht +Thou that hast all thy lyfe tyme dealt in fyre-woorks, +Stoves and hott bathes to sweet in, nowe to have +Thy teethe to falter in thy head for could +Nimbler then virginall Jacks.[98] + +_Mild_. Th'art a sweete guest. + +_Sarl_. Too good for such an host, better to have bin +Lodgd in som spittle; or, if possible, +To bee imprisoned in som surgeon's box +That smells of salves and plasters. + +_Mild_. Nowe what sharke +Or wyde-mouth'd whale shall swallowe upp my budgett, +May it at th'instant choake him! + +_Sarl_. Cursedly twas got, +And nowe thy curse goes with it. + +_Mild_. But those giurles! +Nought so much greives mee as to part with them +Before they lost theire maiden-headds. Had they lyvd +Till I had seen them women, and oth' trade, +My tast and care bestowed to bringe them upp +I should have thought well spent, which nowe with them +Is meerely cast away. + + _Enter Godfrey_. + +_Sarlab_. Peace now your pratinge and heare another spirit. + +_Godfr_.[99] The pale religious, which was the pledge +Of a kisse lascivious, I have given backe, +Ey, and to boote the water; but within +There's such a coyle betwixt the 2 young giurles +Such quakinge, shakinge, quiveringe, shiveringe +Such cryeinge, and such talk of flyinge, then of hyding, +And that there's no abydinge; one cryes out and calls, +The others redy to breake downe the walls; +Then weepinge they whisper together, +And saye they woold roone if they knew whither, +And are indeede putt to such strange affrights +That I was afrayde they weare hunted with sprights, +And therefore cam and left them: lass, poor giurles, +They are in piteous feare. + +_Mild_. Hee talkt of guerles: why may not these bee they, +Escapt as wee? staye, younge man, good frend, staye. + +_Godf_. Too ould drown'd ratts: I'l have som sport with them, +And though I pitty those I'l play with these. + +_Mild_. What gurles weare those thou spakest of? + +_Sarl_. Tell us fyrst +Where wee might finde som comfort. + +_Godf_. Lett us oh lett us bee advys'd +And living still to all men, +So though wee bee but midle sizd +Wee shalbe held no small men. + +_Mild_. Concerning these fayre damosels, speake of that. + +_Sarl_. Which now concernes us most, where may wee meete +With warmth, with foode, and shelter? + +_Godf_. Oh thou that dost demand of mee +Som fyre, som meate and harbor, +I see thou lately hast ben washt, +Hath _Neptune_ ben thy barbor? + +_Sarl_. This fellowe mearely flowtes our misery, +And laughs att our distresses. + +_Mild_. But, kind frende, +Concerninge these yonge women, are they fayre? + +_Godf_. Fayre flesh and cleane they bothe appeare +And not lyke gypsies umber'd. + +_Mild_. How many? + +_Godf_. Just as thou and I when wee are +Once but number'd. + +_Mild_. Oh, _Sarleboys_, there's comfort in these woords; +They have allredy warmed my hart within, +Why may not these bee they? + +_Sarl_. Bee they or not, +I had rather see one caudell downe my throate, +To wash downe this salt-water, than bee mayster +Of all the wenshes lyveinge. + +_Mild_. Oh where, where, +Where might I see too such? + +_Godf_. Thou that goest sydewayes lyke a crabb, gapst on mee + lyke an oyster, +Followe thy flat nose and smell them there, in th'out part of + this cloyster. + +_Mild_. Oh maye this peece of earthe proove happy to mee +As hath the sea bin fatall. + +_Sarl_. I'l followe and coold wish +Boath cloyster and whole villadge weare a fyre +Only to dry my clothes by. + +_Godf_. Marry hange you +You that so late scaped drowning for I take you +For too pestiferous rascalls. + + _Exeunt_. + +Explicit Actus 2. + + + + +_Act 3_. + +SCENE 1. + + + _Enter the Lady de Averne with a letter in her hand + readinge, and with her mayde_. + +_Lady_. And howe came you by this? + +_Mayde_. Followinge you to th'chappell +And I protest not thinking anythinge, +Fryar _Jhon_ o'th suddeine pluckt mee by the sleeve +And whisperd in myne eare to give that to you, +But privatly, bycause it was a thinge +Only toweard your person. + +_Lady_. Twas well doonne; +But prithee do no more so, for this tyme +Tak't for a warninge. + +_Mayde_. Madam I am skool'd. + +_Lady_. Doo so, or ever loose me. Heeres[100] sweet stuffe! +Can this be in a vowed monastick lyfe +Or to be fownd in churchmen? 'tis a question +Whether to smyle or vex, to laughe or storme, +Bycause in this I finde the cause of boathe. +What might this sawcy fellowe spy in mee +To incorradge such a boldnes? yes this letter +Instructs mee what: he seythe my affability +And modest smiles, still gracinge his salutes, +Moovd him to wryte. Oh what a chary care then +Had womene neede have boathe of lipps and eyes +When every fayre woord's censur'd liberty, +And every kind looke meere licensiousnes! +I have bin hitherto so greate a stranger +To these unus'd temptations that in truthe +I knowe not howe to take this. Sylly fryar! +Madnes or folly, one of these't must bee. +If th'one I pity, at the other laughe, +And so no more reguard it. + +_Maid_. Madam, if ought bee in that letter ill, +Mee thinks 'tis good [that] you can tak't so well. + +_Lady_. Peace you; a braineles weake, besotted fellowe! +But lett mee better recollect myself. +Madnes nor folly, and add lust to them, +Durst not in fury, heate, or Ignorans, +Have tempted my unquestioned chastity +Without a fowrth abetter, jealousy. +The more I ponder that, I more suspect +By that my Lord should have a hand in this, +And,[101] knowinge there's such difference in our yeares, +To proove my feythe might putt this triall on mee. +Else how durst such a poore penurious fryar +Oppose such an unheard of Impudens +Gaynst my incensed fury and revendge? +My best is therefore, as I am innocent, +To stooddy myne owne safety, showe this letter, +Which one [?] my charity woold have conceiled, +And rather give him upp a sacrifice +To my lord's just incensement then indanger +Myne owne unblemisht truthe and loyalty +By incurringe his displeasure; heare hee coms. + + _Enter the Lord de Averne with som followers; + his man Denis_ + +_L. Averne_. Howe, Lady? reading? + +_Lady_. Yes, a letter, sir. + +_L. Averne_. Imparts it any newes? + +_Lady_. Yes, syr, strange newes, +And scarce to bee beleaved. + +_Lord Av_. Forreyne. + +_Lady_. Nay, domestick, +Tis howsehould busines all. + +_Lord Av_. May I impart it? + +_Lady_. Oh, syr, in any case, +As one it most concernes; but I intreate you, +Reade it with patiens; the simplicity +Of him that writte it will afford you mirthe, +Or else his mallice spleane.--Nowe by his temper +And change of countenance I shall easily find +Whose hand was cheife in this. + +_Lord Av_. All leave the place. + +_Denis_. We shall, syr. + +_Lord Av_. Possible +That this shoold bee in man, nay in man vowed +Unto a strickt abstemious chastity! +From my owne creature and from one I feede, +Nay from a place built in my holiest vowes, +Establisht in my purpose in my lyfe, +Maintayn'd from my revenue, after death +Firm'd and assur'd to all posterityes-- +That that shoold breede such vipers! + +_Lady_. Patiens, syr; the fellowe suer is madd. + +_Lord Av_. I can be madd as hee too and I will. +Thus to abuse my goodnes! in a deede +Som woold hold meritorious, att the least +Intended for an act of piety, +To suffer in my zeale! nay to bee mockt +In my devotion, by these empty drones +That feede upon the honey of my hyve! +To invert my good intentements, turne this nest + [_Ink: paper ready_. +I built for prayer unto a bedd of sinnes! +Which thus I'l punish; this religious place, +Once vowed to sanctity, I'l undermyne +And in one instant blowe the structure upp +With all th'unhallowed covent. + +_Lady_. Praye, no extreames: +Where one offends shall for his heighnous fact +So many suffer? there's no justyce in't. + +_Lord Av_. Som justyce I would showe them heare on earthe +Before they finde it multiplyed in heaven. + +_Lady_. For my sake, syr, do not for one man's error +Destroy a woorke of perpetuity, +By which your name shall lyve. One man offends; +Lett the delinquent suffer. + +_Lord Av_. So't shallbe, +And thou hast well advysed. Som pen and Inke theire! + +_Lady_. What purpose you? + +_Lord Av_. That's soly to my selfe +And in my fyxt thoughts stands irreproovable. + + _Enter Dennis with pen, inke, and paper_. + +Syr, heares pen inke and paper. + +_Lord Av_. To his letter +My self will give him answer. (_writes_) + +_Denis_. Suer all's not well that on the suddane thus +My lord is so distempered. + +_Lady_. I have, I feare, +Styr'd such a heate, that nought save blood will quensh: +But wish my teares might doo't; hee's full of storme, +And that in him will not bee easily calmd. +His rage and troble both pronounce him guiltles +Of this attempt, which makes mee rather doubt +Hee may proove too seveare in his revendge, +Which I with all indevour will prevent +Yet to the most censorious I appeale, +What coold I lesse have doone to save myne honor +From suffringe beneathe skandall? + +_Lord Av_. See, heare's all: +'Tis short and sweete, wryte this in your own hand +Without exchange of the least sillable. +Insert in copiinge no suspitious dash, +No doubtfull comma; then subscribe your name, +Seal't then with your own signet and dispatche it +As I will have dyrected; doo't, I charge you, +Without the least demurre or fallacy. +By dooinge this you shall prevent distrust +Or future breach beetwixt us; you shall further +Expresse a just obediens. + +_Lady_. Syr, I shall, +What ere your concealed purpose bee, I shall. + +_Lord Av_. Provyde mee horses, I will ryde. + +_Denis_. When, syr? + +_Lord Av_. Instantly, after dinner, and gie't out +I am not to returne till three dayes hence, +So spreade it throughe the howse. + +_Denis_. What followers, Syr, +Meane you to take alonge? + +_Lord Av_. Thyself, no more, +For 'tis a private busines, and withall; +Provyde mee,--harke thyne eare. + +_Denis_. A stronge one, Syrr. + +_Lord Av_. One that will howld; withall give pryvate order +At night the guarden gates may bee left open, +By whiche wee may returne unknowne to any. +What I intend lyes heare. + +_Denis_. All wee servants +Are bownd to doo, but not examine what; +That's out of our comission. + +_Lord Av_. 'Twixt us too +I shall resolve thee further. + +_Denis_. I am gone, Syr. + +_Lord Av_. Nowe, sweete ladye, have you doon? + +_Lady_. As you commanded. + +_Lord Av_. Itt wants nothinge nowe +But seale and superscription; I'l see't doone. +And marke mee nowe; at evensonge, passinge through +The cloyster to the chappell, when the fryar +Amongst the rest bowes with his wonted duckes, +Add rather then deminish from your smiles +And wonted favours. Let this shee post then +Conveigh this letter to the fryar's close fist, +Who no dowbt gapes for answer. + +_Lady_. All shall bee +As you instructe; but punishe, syr, with pitty; +Putt him to payne or shame, but deathe, alas, +Is too seveare. + +_Lord Av_. Tush, wyfe, feare not; think'st thou Ile +quale[102] a churchman? + [_Exeunt_. + + + +SCENE 2. + + + _Enter after a great noyse within, the Clowne, + meetinge with Ashburne and Godfrey_. + +_Clowne_. If this villadge bee inhabited with men as this place within +is with monsters; if with men that have eyes and can distinguishe bewty, +or that have hartes and therfore saver of pitty; if you bee fathers and +know what belonges to children, or christians and therefore what is ment +by charity; if husbandmen and have hope of your harvest, or marchants of +your trade's increase; if fishermen that would thryve by your labours, +or any of all these that would be knowne by your honesty-- + +_Ashburne_. Many of those thou namest have place in us, +Great'st part if not all. + +_Clowne_. Then lend your helpeinge hands to succor, releive, defend, +deliver, save, serve, patronadge, abett and mynteyn-- + +_Ashb_. Whom, what? + +_Clowne_. Bewty, vertue, purity, syncerity, softnes, sweetenes, +innocens, and chastity. + +_Ashb_. Gainst what? gainst whome? + +_Cl_. Oppression, frawde, rudenes, reproch, synn, shame, debate, +discourse, theft, rapine, contempt of religion and breach of sanctury, +against a magazine of misdemeanors and a whole monopoly of mischeif. + +_Godf_. I knowe the busines, syr, if in that place +These are the too distressed wrecks at sea +We sawe this morninge floatinge, sweeter guerles +I never yet sett ey on, and opprest +By too ill lookeinge raskells that to warme them +Wisht all the towne a bonefire-- + +_Ashb_. Miscreant slaves! +For one younge damsell's sake I once cald daughter, +And in the absens of there greater frends, +I'l stand betwixt them and these injuryes. + +_Clowne_. These are they after whome I have been seeking, and my mayster +was enquiringe. If you will but secure them heare in the villadge whilst +I carry woord to my mayster in the citty, you shall doo me a curtesye +and him a most noble offyce.[103] + +_Ashb_. It was no more then promisse, and I shoold +Fayle in my goodnes not to see that doone. +Post to thy mayster, bid him meete us heare: +Mean tyme my menn shall rayse the villagers +Boathe in the reskewe of these innocent maydes +And in defens of holly priveledge. + +_Clowne_. I fly lyke the winds. + +_Godf_. And I'l go call the pesants +To rayse another tempest. + + [_Exeunt[104] Clown and Godfrey_. + +_Ashb_. Hasten boathe +And till ayde com I'l laye myne eare and listen +To heare what further coyle is kept within: +All's silent on the sudden. + _Musick_. + + [_Song within_.] + +(1) Helpe, Helpe, oh ayde a wretched mayde + or els we are undoon then. + +(2) And have I caught, and have I caught you? + in vayne it is to roonne then. + +(1) Som reskewe then[105] from gods or men + redeeme us from these crosses! + +(2) Tis all in vayne, since nowe I gaine + part of my former losses. + +(1) Oh heaven, defend! what, yet no end + of these our strange desasters? + +(2) No favour's knowne, no pittye's showne + to them that fly there maysters. + +(1) Why to defame, reproch, and shame + poor innocents thus dragge yee? + +(2) With[106] your offens there's no dispence: + away then! wherefore lagge yee? + + _A tumult within and sudden noyse. Enter at one doore + Godfrey with country fellowes for there reskewe, at the + other Mildewe, Sarlaboys, Palestra, Scribonia_. + +_Palest_. Where, in what place shall wee bestowe our selfes +From this injust man's fury? + +_Scrib_. If compeld +And dragg'd from sanctuary by prophane hands, +Where shall we flye to safety? + +_Ashb_. Wheither, if +Not unto us? wee often see the gods +Give and bequeathe there justyce unto men, +Which wee as fythefully [_sic_] will see performed. + +_All_. Downe with these saucy companyons! + +_Godf_. Downe with these sacraligious silsepaereales [?], these +unsanctified _Sarlaboyses_ that woold make a very seralia of the +sanctuary, and are meare renegadoes to all religion! + +_Mild_. Stay, hold, are you bandetty? rovers, theives, +And wayte you heare to robb and pilladge us +The sea so late hathe ryfled? these are myne, +My chattells and my goodes, nor can you cease them +As wrecks; I appeale unto the admirall. + +_Ash_. His power I in his absens will supply, +And cease yee all as forfett; these as goodds +You as superfluous ladinge, till that coort +Shall compremise betwixt us. + +_Mild_. I'the meanetyme +Lett mee possesse myne owne; these are my slaves +My utensills, my mooveables, and bought +With myne owne private coyne. + +_Sarl_. To which I am witnes. + +_Mild_. And by the heyre I'l dragge them as myne owne, +Wear't from the holly alter. + +_Pal_. Succor! + +_Scrib_. Helpe! + +_Ashb_. Are they not Christians? + +_Mild_. Yes. + +_Ash_. What nation? + +_Mild_. _Englishe_. + +_Ashb_. In myne owne country borne and shall not I +Stand as theire champion then? I tell thee, pesant, +_England_'s, no broode for slaves. + +_Pal_. Oh Syr to you +Wee fly as to a father. + +_Ashb_. And I'l guard you +As weare you myne owne children. + +_Mild_. Gainst there lord, +Owner and mayster? + +_Ashb_. None is lordd with us +But such as are freeborne; our Christian lawes +Do not allowe such to bee bought or sould +For any Bawde or pander to hyre such +To comon prostitution. Heere they stand: +Tutch but a garment, nay a heyre of theres +With thy least finger, thy bald head I'l sinke +Belowe thy gowtye foote. + +_Mild_. I am opprest, +Is theire no lawe in _France_? + +_Ashb_. Yes, Syr, to punish +These chastityes seducers. + +_Mild_. Give me fyar, +I will not leive of all this monastery +Of you or these, of what's combustible, +Naye of my self, one moiety unconsumed. + +_Godf_. His frend before him wisht the towne a fyre, +Now hee would burne the cloyster: too arch-pillers![107] + +_Ashb_. And lyke such +Our purpose is to use them. Dare not, miscreant, +But to give these a menace whom thou calst thyne, +No not by beck or nod; if thou but styer [stir] +To doo unto this howse of sanctity +Damadge or outrage, I will lay thee prostrate +Beneathe these staves and halberts. + +_Mild_. Is this lawe? + +_Godf_. Yes _Staffords_[108] lawe. + +_Ashb_. Naye, feare not, pretty guerles; +The fryars them selfs, weare they not at theire prayers +Wold have doon more than this in just defens +Of theire immunityes; but in theire absens +I stand for them, nor shall you part from hence +Or dare to sqeelche till they themselves be judge. +Of injurye doone to this sacred place, +Or such as I have sent for make appearance +To clayme what thou unjustly calst thyne owne. + +_Godf_. Nay, thou shall stand; wee have too stringes to our Bow. + +_Ashb_. If hee but styer then stryke. + +_Mild_. This _Stafford_ law, +Which I till nowe heard never nam'd in _France_, +Is for the present a more fearefull coort +Then chancery or star-chamber. I want motion; +You have made [me] a statue, a meere Imadge. + +_Godf_.[109] Styer and thou diest: weele maule you. + +_Mild_. Iff heare I can have none, lett me depart +To seake elcewhere for justyce. + +_Sarl_. Keepe him prisoner, +And sett mee free to finde some advocate +To pleade in his just cause. + +_Godf_. Neather styrre +In payne of too _Frensh_ crownes, and they so crack[t] +Never more to passe for currant. + +_Ashb_. That presume. + +_Mild_. Misery of miseryes! I am bound hand and foote, +And yet boath legges and armes at liberty. + +_Godf_. Yes by the lawe cald _Stafforde_. + + _Enter Mr. Raphael, Mr. Treadway and the Clowne_. + +_Raph_. Durst then the slave use my _Palestra_ thus, +And dragge her by the heyre from sanctuary? + +_Clowne_. Most trew, Syr. + +_Raph_. Why did'st not kill him? + +_Clowne_. If I had had but a swoard I had doon't, but I sought the +villadge through and cold find neare a cutter. + +_Raph_. Weare there no skattered stones lye in the streete +To have beate his breynes out? + +_Clowne_. Not a stone to throwe att a dogg. + +_Raph_. Had'st thou not heeles + +_Clowne_. Yes to have kickt him lyke a dogge, but I reserved them to +roon the more nimbly about your busines. + +_Pal_. I nowe spye a newe sanctuary, his armes, +In which I may pursue security. +My _Raphael_! + +_Raph_. My _Palestra_, art thou safe? +Beefore I give due thankes to this good man, +Which tyme shall paye in all pluralityes, +Oh shewe mee but that monster of mankind +And shame of men on whom to bee revendgd! + +_Mild_. The storme at sea was not more terrible +Then this the land now threatens; againe undoone, +Over and over wretched! + +_Clowne_. See the limbe +Of his ould syre the Devill. + +_Raph_. Perjured slave! +Perfidious, but that I abhore to take +The hangman's office from him, this should open +A doore by which thy black soule should fly out +Unto assured damnation. + +_Tread_. Bee more patient; +Proceede with him after a legal course, +And bee not sweyde by fury. + +_Raph_. Well advys'd: +What can thy false toonge pleide in thy excuse, +Thou volume of all vyces? + +_Mild_. Why, what not? + +_Raph_. Is thy hart sear'd, thy browe made impudent, +And all thy malefactions crownd[110] with lyes +Against just testates and apparent truthes? +When I had payde full ransom for this pryze, +Why didst thou beare her hence? + +_Mild_. I did not doo't,-- +These bee my witnes; have I borne her hence +When I have brought her to thee? + +_Raph_. Thy bawdes rhethorick +Shall not excuse thee thus. Frends guarde him safe. + +_Clowne_. We will see his fooles coate guarded,[111] ey and reguarded +too from slipping out of our fingers. + +_Godf_.[112] Weel finde amongst us more then ... him; fower elbowes +elbowe him off all sydes, gentlemen. It shall appeare beefore hee parts +with us that hee hathe shewed him self no better then a coxcomb. + +_Tread_. Beleeve mee nowe, I do not blame my frende +To fishe in trobled streames for such a pearle, +Or digge in black mowled for so ritch a myne; +But to redeeme a chast and inocent sowle +Forthe from the fierye jawes of lust and hell, +Exprest a most comended charitye. +What second bewtyes that ... frend, +That tremblinge flyes from his infectious ills +To patronise her youth and inocence +Beneathe that goode man's goodnes-- + +_Raph_. Alyke suffers +With her in all distresses, lyke in years, +In vertue, no way differing of our nation; +Who knowes but neare all yee too? + +_Tread_. I feele somthinge +Growinge on mee, I know not howe to style, +Pitty or love, synce it hath tast of boathe. +And sinne itt weare such parity in all thinges, +Age, mindes, wrecks, bondadge, pursiutes, injuryes +Shoold nowe bee separate; the one be freede +The t'other left in durance, for the want +And pious tender of so smalle a somme. +I somwhat have in purpose. + +_Raph_. Dragge them boathe +Before the magistrate. + +_Sarlab_. Mee? wherefore? why? + +_Godf_. As his abettor and ill counseller: +One would have burnt the villadge, and the other +Threatned to fyar the cloyster. + +_Raph_. Boathe acts capitall +And worthy seveare censure. + +_Mild_. Though thou pleedst interest +In waye of earnest in _Palestra_, yet +Robb mee not quite, give me the tother backe, +My only portion left me by the sea +And stock to sett upp trade by. + +_Scrib_. Rather torture mee +With any violent deathe. + +_Tread_. Leive them in trust +And chardge of this grave reverent gentleman, +Untill you heire the sentence of the coort. + +_Ashb_. I willingly accept theire patronadge: +Heere att my howse they shall have meate and harbour. + +_Raph_. Nobly spoke: +Meane tyme hale these to'th coort. + +_Mild_. My _Palestra_, +What? not one woord of pitye? + +_Raph_. Stopp his mouthe. + +_Mild_. My _Scribonia_, +Wilt thou intreate them neather? + +_Tread_. Tyme's but trifled; +Away with them to justyce! + +_Mild_. Take my skinne then, +Synce nothinge else is left mee. + +_Clown_. That's rotten allredy and will neather +make goodd leather nor parchement ... theire. + + [_Exeunt_. + +_Ashb_. Com, damsalls, followe mee where I shall leade: +I have a cross wyfe at home I tell you that, +But one that I presume will not bee jealous +Of too such harmeles sowles. + +_Pal_. You are to us +A patron and defender. + +_Scrib_. Bounde unto you +Not as an host but father. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +SCENA 3. + + + _Enter the Lord de Averne, his Lady, + Dennis and the waytinge mayde_. + +_Lord Av_. Are all thinges redye as I gave in chardge? + +_Denys_. Redy, syr. + +_Lord Av_. Inoughe; and you deliver'd it +To his owne hands? + +_Mayde_. I did. + +_Lord Av_. Howe did hee tak't? + +_Mayde_. With smiles and seeminge joy. + +_Lord Av_. Sorrowe and shame +I feare will bee the sadd end on't. + +_Lady Av_. Syr, you'r troubled. + +_Lord Av_. I would not have you so; pray, to your rest; +You shall remove mee from all jelosyes +If you betake you to your sowndest sleeps, +And without more inquiry. + +_Lady Av_. Syr, remember +That all offences are not woorthy deathe: +Fellowny, murder, treason and such lyke +Of that grosse nature maye be capitall; +Not folly, error, trespasse. + +_Lord Av_. You advyse well, +Lett mee advyse you lyke-wyse: instantly +Retyre in to your chamber, without noyse +Reply or question, least part of that rage +Is bent gainst him you turne upon your self, +Which is not for your safety. + +_Lady Av_. Syr, good night. [_Exit_.[113] + +_Lord Av_. How goes the hower? + +_Denis_. Tis almost tenn. + +_Lord Av_. The tyme of our appointment: you attend +Upon his knocks and give him free admittans; +Beinge entred, refer him into this place; +That doon, returne then to your Ladye's chamber +There locke your self fast in. + +_Mayde_. My lorde, I shall.-- +Poore fryare, I feare theyl put thee to thy penance +Before they have confest thee. + +_Lord Av_. Come, withdrawe; +The watchwoordes not yet given. + + _Enter the Fryar with a letter_. + +_Fr. Jhon_. 'Tis her owne pen, I knwe it, synce shee sett +Her hand to establishe our foundation, +And, sweete soule, shee hath writt a second tyme +To build mee upp anewe:--_My Lord is ridd +A three dayes jorney, loose not this advantadge +But take tyme by the fore-topp_. Yes I will +By the fore-topp and topp-gallant. _At the posterne +Shee to whose hand you gave your letter, Fryar, +Attends for your despatch_:--my busines +I hope shalbee despatcht then:--_Fare you well, +Fayle mee this night and ever_. I'l sooner forfett +All pleasures, hopes, preferments, with th'assurance +Of a longe lyfe blest with most happy howers, +Then this one night's contentment. + +_Mayde_. Ha, who's theire? +Fryar _Jhon_? + +_Fr. Jhon_. The same: you, mystresse _Millisent_ +My Ladye's gentlewoman? + +_Mayde_. I am the closett +That treasures all her counsells. + +_Fr. Jhon_. Is all cleare? + +_Mayde_. As such a dark night can bee--to one, I feare, +That scarce will looke on daye more. + +_Fr. Jhon_. Where's my lady? + +_Mayde_. Attends you in her chamber. + +_Fr. Jhon_. Guide mee too't, +Nay, quickly guerle:--how I allredy surfett +In this nights expectation! + +_Mayde_. Staye you heare +In this withdraweinge roome, I'l fetch a light +For safeguard of your shinnes. + +_Denis_. Shee might have sayde +For safeguard of his necke. + +_Mayde_. My sceane's doone; +The next act lyes amongst them. [_Exit_.[114] + +_Fr. Jhon_. My part dothe but beginne nowe and I'l act it +In exquisite cleane linnen; and this capp +Proffred of purpose, least I should smell fryar. +What differ wee i'th darke, save our shaven crowne, +From gentlemen, nay Lords? nature hath araied us +As well as the best layemen: why should lawe +Restreyne from us what is allowed to them? +Lett it curbe fooles and idiots, such as throughe folly +Will not, or nycenes dare not, tast what's sweete, +Alyke made for all pallats. + +_Lord Av_. Howe the slave +Insults in his damnation! cease the wretch, +I can indure no lonnger. + +_Fr. Jhon_. Such as ban +Proffred delights may, if they please, refuse; +What's borne with mee I will make bold to use. + +_Lord Av_. And I what thou weart borne too, that's a halter. +Pull without feare or mercy, strangle him +With all his sinnes about him; t'were not else +A revendge worthe my fury. + + [_Fry: strangled_. + +_Dennis_. I dare nowe +Lodge him a whole night by my syster's syde, +Hee's nowe past strompetting. + +_Lord Av_. Tis night with him, +A longe and lastinge night. + +_Denis_. Hee lyes as quiet. +You did well, Fryare, to putt on your cleane linnen; +Twill serve you as a shrowde for a new grave. +Whither shall wee lyft his body? + +_Lord Av_. I am on the suddeine +Growne full of thoughts; the horror of the fact +Breedes strange seditions in mee. + +_Denis_. Hee perhapps +But counterfetts dead sleep. I'l hollowe to him +To see if I can wake him. + +_Lord Av_. Trifle not; +The sinne will proove more serious. To a conscience +Startled with blood and murder, what a terror +Is in the deede, being doone, which bredd before +Boathe a delight and longing! This sadd spectacle +Howe itt affrights mee! + +_Denis_. Letts remove itt then. + +_Lord Av_. The sinne it self, the churches malediction, +As doone to one of a sequestred lyfe +And holly order, the lawes penalty, +Being duble forfeture of lyfe and state, +Reproach, shame, infamy, all these incur'd +Through my inconsiderate rashnes! + +_Denis_. My lyfe, too. +Howe to prevent the danger of all these? + +_Lord Av_. Ey, that will aske much breyne, much project. + +_Denis_. Sir, +Shall we poppe him in som privy? + +_Lord Av_. Duble injurye, +To praye upon the soule and after deathe +Doo to the body such discoortesy; +It neather savours of a generous spyritt +Nor that which wee call manly. + +_Denis_. Anythinge +For a quiett lyfe,[115] but this same wryneckt deathe, +That which still spoyles all drinkinge, 'tis a thinge +I never coold indure; as you are noble +Keepe still my wind pype open. + +_Lord Av_. Out of many +Museings[116] for boath our safetyes I have fownd +One that's above the rest most probable. + +_Denis_. What, what, I praye, Syr? + +_Lord Av_. Interupt mee not: +Staye I should nowe begett a stratagem +To save myne owne lyfe, myne estate and goodds, +Ey, and secure thee too. + +_Denis_. 'Twere excellent, Syr. + +_Lord Av_. I have project for all these, as willingly +To lengthen boathe our lyves, and limitt us +Tyme to repent his deathe. + +_Denis_. But howe, I praye, Syr? + +_Lord Av_. Ey, there's the difficulty; but nowe I hav't. +Betwixt us and the cloyster's but one wall, +And that of no greate height; coold wee in private +Conveighe this fryar into the monastery, +It might be then imadgind som of them +Might bee his deathe's-man; which might seeme more probable +Bycause, as I had late intelligens, +There hathe bin stryfe amongst them. + +_Denis_. Better still. + +_Lord Av_. Now howe can wee incurr the least suspect? +For what should hee doo from the fryary, +Or what seeke heere att this unseasoned hower? + +_Denis_. I apprehende thee; and, to further this, +In the backe yard there is a ladder, Syr: +Mount him upon my back, and I'l conveighe him +Where som, not wee, shall answer for his death. + +_Lord Av_. As desperate wounds still must have desperate cure, +So all rash mischeiffes shuld have suddeine shiftes. +Wee'I putt it to ye venter. + +_Denis_. Mount him then; +I'l once trye if the ventur of a ladder +Can keepe mee from the halter. + + [_Exeunt_.[117] + +Explicit Actus 3. + + + + +_Actus 4_. + +SCENA PRIMA. + + + _Enter the Clowne_. + +_Clowne_. I have left a full coort behynde mee, _Mildewe_ pleidinge of +the one syde, my mayster on the other, and the lawyers fendinge and +prooveinge on boathe; there's such yeallinge and ballinge, I know not +whether it made any deafe to heare it, but I am suer I was almost sicke +to see't. Whyle they are brablinge in the cittye I am sent backe to the +villadge to cheire up the too younge mermaydes; for synce theire +throates have bin rincht with salt water they singe with no lesse +sweatenes. But staye; I spy a fisherman drawinge his nett upp to the +shore; I'l slacke som of my speede to see how hee hathe spedd since the +last tempest. + + _Enter the Fisherman_. + +_Fisher_. I see hee that nought venters nothinge gaynes; +Hee that will bee awake when others sleepe +May sometymes purchase what may give him rest, +When other loyterers shalbe forct to ryse +Or perish through meare want; as, for example, +Although the tempest frighted hence the fishe, +I have drag'd some thinge without finne or skale +May make mee a good markett. Lett mee better +Surveigh my pryze; 'tis of good weight I feele; +Now should it bee some treasure I weare mayde. + +_Clowne_. Which if it proove I'l half marr you or be half made with you. + +_Fisher_. It must be gold by th'weight. + +_Clowne_. If it bee so heavy 'tis ten to one but I'l do you the curtesye +to ease you of part of your burden. + +_Fisher_. None save myself is guilty of this pryze; +'Tis all myne owne, and I'l bee thinke mee best +Howe to beestowe of this ritche magazin. + +_Clowne_. And I am stooddiinge too with what lyne, what angle, what +fisguigge[118] what castinge nett I cann share with you in this sea +booty. + +_Fisher_. I will dissemble, as most ritche men doo, +Pleade poverty and speake my mayster fayre; +By out my freedom for som little somme, +And, beeinge myne owne man, by lands and howses; +That doon, to sea I'l rigge shipps of myne owne, +And synce the sea hathe made mee upp a stocke +I'l venter it to sea; who knowes but I +In tyme may prove a noble marchant? + +_Clowne_. Yes of eele skinnes.--Staye you, Syrra, ho! + +_Fisher_. I knowe no fish of that name; limpet, mullet, conger, dolphin, +sharke I knowe, and place; I woold som body else had thyne; for hearinge +I woold thou hadst none, nor codd; for smelt thou art too hott in my +nose allredy; but such a fishe cald Syrra never came within the compasse +of my nett. What art thou, a shrimpe, a dogg fish or a poore Jhon?[119] + +_Clowne_.[120] I am one that watcht the tyde to know what thou hast +caught, and have mony in my pockett to by thy draught. + +_Fisher_. And I am one thou seest that have only an empty wett nett, +but not so much as the tale of a spratte at thys tyme to sell for love +of mony. + +_Clowne_. I grant this is no Fryday and I at this tyme no cater for the +fishmarkett. I only cam to desyre thy judgement and counsell. + +_Fisher_. Go to the bench for judgment and to the lawe courts for +counsell, I am free of neather, only one of _Neptunes_ poore bastards, +a spawne of the sea, and nowe gladly desyres to be rydd of thee aland. + +_Clowne_. Onely one question resolve mee, and I have doone. + +_Fisher_. To bee well ridd of the I care not if I loose so much tyme. + +_Clowne_. But feythefully. + +_Fisher_. As I am honest peeterman.[121] + +_Clowne_. Observe mee then: +I saw a theif, comitting fellony; +I know the mayster of the thing was stolne, +I com unto this theif, as't might bee thee, +And make this covenant; eather give mee half +And make mee sharer or thou forfettest all, +I'l peach thee to the owner; in this case +What may I justly claime? + +_Fisher_. Rather than forfeit all I shoold yeild halfe. + +_Clowne_. Knwe then 'tis thy case, and my case a most playne case, and +concernes the booty in that cap-case.[122] I knowe the lord that wants +it and the mayster that owes[123] it; boath howe it was lost and where +it was lost. Com, unloose, unbuckle, unclaspe, uncase, lett's see then +what fortune hathe sente us, and so part it equally beetwixt us. + +_Fisher_. Staye, staye, my frend this my case must not be opend till +your case bee better lookt into. Thou knowest who lost it, I who fownd +it; thou the lord of it that was, I the owner that nowe is; thou who +did possess it, I who doth injoye it; hee had it, I have it; hee might +have kept it, I will keepe it; I venter'd for all, I will inherit all; +and theres thy pittifull case layde open. + +_Clowne_. First proove this to bee thyne. + +_Fisher_. I can and by the fisherman's rethorick. + +_Clowne_. Proceed sea-gull. + +_Fisher_. Thus land-spaniell; no man can say this is my fishe till hee +finde it in his nett. + +_Clowne_. Good. + +_Fisher_. What I catche is myne owne, my lands my goodds my copy-hold, +my fee-simple, myne to sell, myne to give, myne to lend, and myne to +cast away; no man claimes part, no man share, synce fishinge is free +and the sea common. + +_Clowne_.[124] If all bee common that the sea yeelds why then is not +that as much mine as thyne? + +_Fisher_. By that lawe, when wee bringe our fishe to the markett, if +every one may freely chuse what hee lykes and take where hee lyst, wee +shoold have quikly empty dorsers[125] and cleane stalls, but light +purses. + +_Clowne_. How can'st thou proove that to bee a fishe that was not bredd +in the water, that coold never swimme, that hathe neather roe nor milt, +scale nor finne, lyfe nor motion? Did ever man heare of a fishe cald a +budgett? What shape, what collor? + +_Fisher_. This shape, this collor, there's nowe within better then the +spawne of sturgeon; I must confesse indeed, they are rarely seene, and +seldom fownd; for this is the fyrst I ever catcht in all the tyme of my +fishinge. + +_Clowne_. All this sea-sophestry will not serve your turne, for where +my right is deteind mee by fayre meanes I will have it by force. + +_Fisher_. Of what I caught in the sea? + +_Clowne_. Yes, and what I catch hold on ashore. With what consciens +can'st thou denye mee part of the gaine, when the owner heareinge it is +in thy custody and within my knowledge, must eather find mee a principall +in the theft, or at least accessary to the fellony. + +_Fisher_. I'l showe thee a redy waye to prevent boathe. + +_Clowne_. How's that? + +_Fisher_. Marry, thus: go thou quietly thy way, I'l go peacably myne; +betraye thou mee to nobody, as I meane to impart to thee nothinge; +seeke thy preferment by land as I have doone myne by sea; bee thou mute, +I'l be dumbe; thou silent, I mumbudgett; thou dismisse mee, I'l acquitte +thee; so thou art neather theife nor accessary. + +_Clowne_. Syrrah, though you bee owner of the boate I'l steare my course +at healme. + +_Fisher_. Hands off, I saye. But hark a noyse within +Letts cease our controversy till wee see [_Noyse_. +An end of that. + +_Clowne_. Trew, and bee judg'd by the next quiet man wee meete. + +_Fisher_. Content. + + _Enter after a noyse or tumult, Ashburne, his wyfe, + Palestra, Scribonia and Godfrey_. + +_Woman_. I'l not beleeve a sillable thou speak'st; +False harts and false toonges go together still, +They boathe are quick in thee. + +_Ashb_. Have patience woman. + +_Woman_. I have ben too longe a grizell. Not content +To have thy hawnts abroad, where there are marts +And places of lewd brothelry inoughe +Wheare thou maiest wast thy body, purse and creditt, +But thou wooldst make thy private howse a stewes! + +_Ashb_. But heare me, wyfe. + +_Wom_. I'l heare none but myselfe. +Are your legges growne so feeble on the suddeine +They feyle when you shoold travell to your whores, +But you must bringe them home and keepe them heere +Under my nose? I am not so past my sences +But at this age can smell your knavery. + +_Pal_. Good woman, heare's none suche. + +_Woman_. Bold baggadge, peace! +'Tis not your turne to prate yet; lust and impudens +I know still goe togeather.[126] Shewes it well +In one thats of thy yeares and gravity, +That ought to bee in lyfe and government +To others an example, nowe to doate +So neere the grave! to walke before his dooer +With a younge payer of strumpetts at his tale! +Naye, make his honest and chast wyfe no better +Then a madam makarell![127] + +_Godfr_. Why, this stormes woorse then that until'd the howse! + +_Ashb_. But understand mee: +Itt is meare pitty and no bad intent, +No unchast thought but my meare charity +In the remembrans of our longe lost child, +To showe som love to these distressed maydens. + +_Woman_. Sweete charity! nay, usury withall! +For one chyld lost, whose goodnes might have blest +And bin an honor to our family, +To bringe mee home a cuple of loose thinges! +I know not what to terme them, but for thee, +Owld fornicator, that jad'st mee at home +And yet can fend [?] a yonge colt's toothe abroad, +Ould as I am myne eyes are not so dimme +But can discerne this without spectacles. +Hence from my gate, you syrens com from sea, +Or as I lyve I'l washe your painteinges off +And with hotte skaldeinge water instantly. + [_Exit_. + +_Godfr_. Nay then, sweeteharts, you canott staye, you have had could +interteinment. + +_Pal_. The land's to us as dreadfull as the seas, +For wee are heare, as by the billows, tost +From one feare to another. + +_Ashb_. Pretty sowles, +Despyer not you of comfort; I'l not leive you +To the least danger till som newes returne +From him that undertakes your patronadge. +You, syrrah, usher them into the fryary, +Whence none dares force them. I have a cross wyfe you see, +And better you then I take sanctuary. + +_Scrib_. Wee will be sweyde by you as one in whome +Wee yet have fownd all goodnes. + +_Ashb_. Leive them theere +To safety, then returne. + + [_Ex't. ma: Ashb_.[128] + +_Clown_. What say'st thou to this gentleman? + +_Fisher_. No man better.--Now it will go on my syde; this is my owne +master, sure hee cannot bee so unatrall to give sentens against his +owne natural servant.--Syr, good daye. + +_Ashb_. Gramercyes, I in truth much suffered for thee, +Knowing howe rashly thou exposd thyself +To such a turbulent sea. + +_Clown_. I likewyse, Syr, salute you. + +_Ashb_. Thanks, good frend. + +_Clown_. But, syr, is this your servant.[129] + +_Ashb_. Yes, I acknowledge him; +And thou I thinke belongst to Mr _Raphael_, +Imployde about these women. + +_Clown_. Yes I acknowledge it; but you are sure hee's yours? + +_Ashb_. Once againe I doo confesse him myne. + +_Clown_. Then heare mee speake. + +_Fisher_. Heare mee your servant.[130] + +_Ashb_. I'l heare the stranger fyrst. + +_Clown_. In this you doo but justyce, I pray tell mee[131] ... Sea, is +this a fishe or no, or if a fishe what fishe do you call it (peace you). + +_Ashb_. It is no fishe nor fleshe. + +_Clowne_. Nor good redd herringe--fisherman, y'r gone. + +_Fisher_. Thou art deceav'd I am heare still, and may have heare for +ought I knowe to by all the redd herringe in _Marcell[es]_. + +_Clowne_. Did you ever heare of a fishe cal'd a budgett? + +_Ashb_. I protest never synce I knew the sea. + +_Clowne_. You are gone againe fisherman. + +_Fisher_. I am heare still; and now, master, heare mee. + +_Clowne_. Lett mee proceede. This bagge, this knapsacke, or this +portmanteau hee woold make a fishe bycause tooke in his nett. Nowe, +syr, I com to you with this ould proverbe, all's not fishe that com's +to nett.--There you are, gone againe. + +_Fisher_. But-- + +_Clowne_. No butt, nor turbutt. I suspect this budgett to be the +bawde's, in which are the discoveryes of this yonge woman's coontry +and parents. Now, syr, for their sakes, for my masters sake, for all +our sakes use the authority of a mayster to searche, and showe the +power you have over a servant to comand. + +_Ashb_. Will hee or not, hee shall assent to that. + +_Clowne_. A meere trick to undoo mee, ere I knwe +What I am wanting. + +_Ashb_. Call in the damseles, +Intreate them fayrely heather; say wee hope +We shall have good newes for them. + +_Fisher_. I will part with it only on this condition, that if there +bee nothinge in it which concernes them, the rest may returne to mee +unrifled and untutcht. + +_Ashb_. Did it conteyne the valew of a myne +I clayme no part in it. + +_Fisher_. Nor you? + +_Clowne_. Nor I. + +_Fisher_. By the contents of this budgett. + +_Clowne_. I sweare. + +_Ashb_. I vowe. + +_Fisher_. Then there tak't to you, mayster, and once more +Good lucke on my syde! + + _Enter Godfrey, usheringe in Palestra and Scribonia_. + +_Palest_, You sent to speake with us? + +_Ashb_. I did indeed, +Saye, knowe you this? y'have leave, surveigh it well. + +_Pal_. This? knowe I this? oh, my _Scribonia_, see! +Yes, and by this alone may knowe myself. +Looke well upon't, deare syster; extasy +May dimme myne eyes, it cannot purblind thyne. + +_Scrib_. Itt is the same, _Palestra_. + +_Fisher_. Then sure I shall not bee the same man in the afternoone +that I was in the morninge. + +_Scrib_. In this is a greate masse of wealthe included, +All that the bawde hath by corruption gott +In many a thrifty yeare. + +_Fisher_. Comfort for mee. + +_Ashb_. But tell me is there ought of yours included, +Which you may justly chalendge? + +_Pal_. Of that gould +No not the valewe of one poor deneere:[132] +'Tis all base brokadge boathe of sinne and shame +Of which wee neare weare guilty; yet inclosed +There shall you find a cabinet of myne, +Where boathe my naturall parents you may see +In a small roome intended. + +_Fisher_. An unatrall child thou art to trust thy naturall parents +into a leatheren bagge and leave them in the bottom of y'e sea. + +_Pal_. Showe mee the caskett: if before you ope it +I do not name you every parcell in't +Lett it no more bee myne, mak't your own pryse; +But such small trifles as I justly chalenge +And cannot yeeld you the least benefitt, +Of them let mee bee mystresse, synce they are +The somme and crowne of all my future hopes, +But from my tender infancy deteined. +As for the gould and Jewells mak't your spoyle; +Of that I clayme no portione. + +_Fisher_. I accept of the condition. + +_Ashb_. Itt is boathe just and honest; we'll have no juggling, +And, _Gripus_, synce the busines concernes you, +Have you a curious ey too't. + +_Fisher_. Feare not mee, for boathe at sea and land I was ever a goodd +marksman. + +_Ashb_. The caskett is nowe open'd: what coms fyrste? + +_Pal_. Above, the clothes in which I fyrst was swathde, +The linnen fyrst worne in myne infancy. + +_Ashb_. These are child's swathinges; whether thyne or no +It is to mee uncertaine. To the rest. + +_Pal_. And next to these is a ritche handkercher, +Where you shall find in golden letters wrought +My place of byrthe, myne and my father's name. + +_Ashb_. Heare's such a handkercher, such letters workt: +Speake them, as I shall reade them. + +_Pal. Mirable_. + +_Ashb_. Right! _Myrable_. + +_Pal. Daughter of Jhon Ashburne, merchant_. + +_Ashb_. Trewe: of _Jhon Ashburne_ merchant--Oh my sowle! +--Proceed, prithee proceede. + +_Pal. And borne in Christ-chyrch, London, Anno_-- + +_Ashb_. 160(?)0.[133] +Oh you Imortall powers. I stagger yet +Beetwixt despayer and hope, and canott guesse +Which weye my fate will swaye mee; oh speake, speake! +Thy mothers name? + +_Pal_. Reade it in sylver letters pleynly wrought +In the next Imbrodered Linnen. + +_Ashb_. If that fayle not +I have a firme rock to build upon.-- +_The guift of Isabell to her daughter Mirable_.-- +Oh frend, oh servant! + +_Clown_. How is't, syr? + +_Fisher_. How now, mayster? + +_Ashb_. I that so many yeares have been despoyl'd, +Neclected, shattered, am made upp againe, +Repaired, and new created. + +_Pal_. Search but further +And there's a golden brooch in it, a diamond, +Upon my byrthday geven mee by my father. + +_Ashb_. I have longe sought and nowe at lengthe have found +That diamond, thee my doughter. + +_Pal_. How, syr? + +_Ashb_. Shee that so late excluded thee my house +And shutt these gates against thee, _Isabell_ +Thy mother, these weare her owne handyworkes +Bestowde upon thee in thyne infancy +To make us nowe boathe happy in thy yoouth. +I am _Jhon Ashburne_ marchant, _London, Christ Church_; +The yeare, place, tyme agree thee to bee myne, +Oh merher [mirror] of thy sex, my _Myrable_! + +_Pal_. This surplusadge of joy should not bee forged. + +_Ashb_. No more than these noates are infalleble. + +_Pal_. Thus then in all Humility I kneele +To you my acknowledgd father. + +_Ashb_. Ryse, my guerle. + +_Fisher_. Had I not drawne this leeward out of the sea, where had it +bin? all drownd by this. + +_Ashb_. No triflinge nowe: post, _Godfrey_, to my wyfe, +Tell her no more then thou hast heard and seene: +Shee's hard of faythe, relate it punctually, +Beare her (oh lett me borrowe them so longe) +These better to confirme her; bid her hast, +And for the truth add these as testimony:-- +Nay, art thou heare still? + +_Godf_. Lyke a shadowe vanisht, +But to returne a substance. [_Exit Godfrey_.[134] + +_Ashb_. Oh my deare doughter!--where's young _Raphael's_ man +Beare him of all what thou hast seene a perfect +And trew relation. + +_Clowne_. Ay, syr. + +_Ashb_.[135] Bidd him too, +All business sett apart, make hether. + +_Clown_. Ay, syr. + +_Ashb_. Tell him that his _Palestra_ is my _Mirable_. + +_Clown_. Ay, syr. + +_Ashb_. And that shee is my doughter, my lost child. + +_Clowne_. Ay, syr. + +_Ashb_. And that of all this I am most assur'd. + +_Clown_. Ay, syr. + +_Ashb_. Thou wilt not doo all this? + +_Clown_. I will, you lye, syr. + +_Ashb_. Howe, syr. + +_Cl_. Ay, syr. + +_Ashb_. Saye that this daye shee shalbee made his wyfe. + +_Cl_. Ay, syr. + +_Ashb_. Why then add winges unto your heeles and fly, syr. + +_Cl_. Ay syr, but ere I take my flight, for this good servyce +You'll mediate with him for my freedom? + +_Ashb_. So. + +_Cl_. And woo your doughter to doo so too? + +_Ashb_. So. + +_Cl_. And, syr, to him I shalbee thankefull. + +_Ashb_. So. + +_Cl_. Your doughters and your servant ever. + +_Ashb_. So. + +_Cl_. To go, roonne, ryde of all your arrants. + +_Ashb_. So. + +_Cl_. In all this you'l bee slack in nothinge? + +_Ashb_. So. + +_Cl_. And you'l heareafter love mee still? + +_Ashb_. So, so. + +_Cl_. Howe, but so, so? + +_Ashb_. Yes, so and so and so. + +_Cl_. Why, then I go, go, goe. [_Exit Clown_. + +_Ashb_. But one thinge I intreate you, _Mirable_: +This thyrteene yeares, since by rude creditors +Tost and opprest, nay rent out of myne owne, +I have bin forct to seeke my fate abroad, +Howe weare you ravisht thence, or since that tyme +What strange adventures past? + + _Enter Godfrey, and the wyfe with the handkercher_. + +_Mirable_. My mother's presence +Must now prevent my answer. + +_Wyfe_. Where is shee? oh wheare, wheare? for by these tokens, +These of her childhood most unfallid signes, +I knwe her for my doughter. + +_Mir_. I have bene +The longe and wretched owner of that cabinet +With all therein contein'd. + +_Wyfe_. Into thy boosom +Oh lett mee rayne a shower of joyfull teares +To welcom thee, my _Mirable_. + +_Godf_. You threatned her but nowe with skaldinge water; mee thinks you +had more neede to comfort her with hott waters, for sure shee canott bee +warme synce shee came so late out of the could bathe. + +_Wyf_. Make fyares, bid them make ready wholesom brothes, +Make warme the bedd, and see the sheetes well ayred. +Att length then have I fownd thee? + +_Ashb_. But what's shee +That's in thy fellow-shippe? + +_Mir_. My fellowe sharer +In all misfortunes; and for many yeares +So deere to mee, I canot tast a blessednes +Of which shee's not partaker. + +_Wyfe_. For thy sake +Shee shall bee myne too, and (in her) I'l thinke +The powers above have for my single losse +Given mee at lengthe a duble recompense. + +_Scrib_. For which hee that protects all inocence +Will in good tyme reward you. + +_Wyfe_. Praye, in, in; +This could is prejuditiall to your Healthes. +I'l count you boathe my twinnes. + + [_Ext. Wife, Palestra, and Scribonia_. + +_Ashb_. Strange alteration! +Skoldinge is turn'd to pittye, spleen and mallyce +To mercye and compassion. + +_Fisher_. But your promisse +Tutchinge my budgett? + +_Ashb. Godfreye_, beare it in +And lodge it safe; there's no tyme for that; +We'll talke of it herafter. + +_Godf_. Fellow _Gripus_, I am made for this tyme porter. Ladeys, your +trusty treasurer. + [_Ext. Ashbourne and Godfrey_. + +_Gripus_. These are the fishermen and I the fishe catcht in the nett; +well my comfort is, thoughe my booty have made me no ritcher then I was, +poorer then I am I canott bee. Nowe[136] wherein is the ritche more +happy then the poore? I thinke rather lesse blessed and that shall +approue by this excellent good ballet, thoughe sett to a scurvy tune. + + Lett ech man speake as he's possest + I hold the poore man's state most blest. + For if longe lyfe contentment bredes, + In that the poore the ritche exceedes; + + The ritch man's dayes are short, as spent + In pleasures and supposed content; + Whylst to us poore men care and troble + Makes every hower wee wast seeme duble. + + He that hathe ech daye to his backe + Chandge of gaye suites, whylst wee alacke + Have but one coate, that coorse and ould, + Yet it defends us from the could; + + As warme too in an equll eye + As they in all theere purple dye; + 'Mongst all theere store, they weare, we see, + But one at once, and so do wee. + + The ritche that at his table feasts + With choyse of dayntyes, sundry guests, + In all his plenty can but fill + One belly; so the poore can still + + With cheese and onions and disguest[137] + As well with them as th'others feast. + The pesent with his homespoon lasse + As many merry howers may passe + + As coortiers with there sattin guerles, + Though ritchly dect in gould and pearles; + And, though but pleyne, to purpose wooe, + Nay ofttymes with lesse danger too. + +And yet for all this I have one crotchett left in my fate to bate a +new hooke for the gold in the portmanteau. + + [_Exit_. + + + + +_Actus 4to_. + +SCENA 3A. + + + _Enter Dennis with the Fryar from aboue upon his backe_. + +_Den_. Whether a knavishe or a sinneful load, +Or one or bothe I know not; massye it is, +And if no frend will for mee,[138] I'l bee sorry +For myne owne heavinesse. And heare's a place, +Though neather of the secretest nor the best, +To unlade myself of this Iniquity. +When I satt late astryde upon the wall, +To lyft the ladder this waye for descent, +Mee thought the fryar lookt lyke S _George_ a horsback +And I his trusty steede. But nowes no triflynge: +Hee's[139] where hee is in Comons, wee discharged, +Boathe of suspect and murther; which lett the covent +To-morrowe morninge answere howe they cann. +I'I backe the waye wee came; what's doon, none sawe +I'th howse nor herde; they answer then the Lawyer. + [_Exit_. + + _Enter Fryar Richard_. + +_Fr. R_. Of all Infirmityes belonginge to us +I hould those woorst that will not lett a man +Rest in his bedd a-nights. And I of that, +By reason of a late could I have gott, +Am at this instant guilty; which this rushinge +From a warme bedd in these wild frosty nights +Rather augments then helpes; but all necessityes +Must bee obeyde. But soft, there's one before mee: +By this small glimpse of moone light I perceave him +To bee Fryar _Jhon_, my antient adversary.[140] +Why _Jhon_? why _Jhon_? what! not speake! why, then +I see 'tis doon of malyce, and of purpose +Only to shame mee, since hee knowes the rest +Take notyce what a loose man I am growne. +Nay prithee, sweete fryar _Jhon_, I am in hast, +Horrible hast; doo but release mee nowe, +I am thy frend for ever. What! not heare! +Feigne to bee deaf of purpose, and of slight! +Then heare is that shall rouse you. Are you falne? + [_Eather[141] strykes him with a staffe or casts a stone_. +What, and still mute and sylent? nay, not styrr? +I'l rowse you with a vengance! not one limbe +To doo his woonted offyce, foot nor hand? +Not a pulse beatinge, no breathe? what no motion? +Oh mee of all men lyvinge most accurst! +I have doon a fearefull murder, which our former +Inveterate hate will be a thousand testats +That I for that insidiated his lyfe. +The deedes apparant and the offens past pardon. +There's nowe no waye but fly: but fly! which way? +The cloyster gates are all bar'd and fast lockt; +These suddeine mischieffes shuld have suddeine shifts. +About it breyne and in good tyme. I hate![142] +Suspitious rumors have bene lately spread +And more then whispered of th'incontinent love +Fryar _Jhon_ boare to the knight's Lady. Had I meanes +Howe to conveighe his body o'er the wall +To any or the least part of the howse, +It might bee thought the knight in jelosy +Had doone this murder in a just revendge. +Let me surveighe th'ascent: happy occation! +To see howe redy still the devill is +To helpe his servants! heare's a ladder left: +Upp, Fryare, my purpose is to admitt you nowe +Of a newe cloyster. I will sett his body +Upright in the knights porche and leave my patron +To answer for the falt, that hath more strength +Then I to tugge with Benches. + [_Exit. Carry him up_. + + _Enter the knight, half unredy, his Lady after him_. + +_D'Avern_. Ho, _Denis_! + +_Lady_. Give mee reason, I intreate, +Of these unquiet sleepes. + +_D'Av_. You dogg mee, Lady, +Lyke an Ill genius. + +_Lady_. You weare woont to call mee +Your better angel. + +_D'Av_. So I shall doo still, +Would you beetake you to your quiet sleepes +And leave mee to my wakinges. + +_Lady_. There beelonges +Unto one bedd so sweete a sympathy, +I canott rest without you. + +_D'Av_. To your chamber! +There may growe els a woorse antypathy +Beetwixt your love and myne: I tell you, Lady, +Myne is no woman's busines. No reply: +Your least insured presence att this tyme +Will but begett what you would loathe to beare, +Quarrell and harshe unkindnes. + +_Lady_. Ever your lipps +Have bene too mee a lawe.--I suspect more +Then I would apprehend with willingnes; +But though prevention canott helpe what's past, +Conjugall faythe may expresse itself at last. + [_Exit Lady_. + +_D'Av_. Why, _Denis_, ho! awake and ryse in hast! + +_Denis_. What, is your Lordshipp madd! + +_D'Av_. Knowest thou what's past +And canst thou skape this danger? + +_Denis_. Did I not tell you +That all was safe, the body too disposed +Better then in his grave? + +_D'Av_. Strange thoughts sollicite mee. +Upp and inquire about the cloyster wall +What noyse thou hearest, if any private whisperinge +Or louder uprore 'bout the murder ryse. + +_Denis_. I shall, I shall, Syr. [_Exit Dennis_. + +_D'Av_. Guilt, thoughe it weare a smooth and peacefull face, +Yet is within full of seditious thoughts +That makes continuall follie. [_Exit_. + + _Enter Fryar Richard with Fryar Jhon upon his backe_. + +_Fr. Rich_. This is the porch that leades into the hall; +Heare rest for thyne and myne own better ease. +This havinge done, to prevent deathe and shame +By the same stepps I'l back the way I came. + + [_Fryer sett up and left. Exit_. + + _Enter Denis half unredy_. + +_Denis_. This is the penalty belonges to servyce: +Masters still plott to theire owne private ends, +And wee that are theire slaves and ministers +Are cheef still in the troble; they ingrosse +The pleasure and the proffitt, and wee only +The swett and payne. My Lord hath doon a mischeef +And nowe I must not sleepe.--What art thou? +None of the howse sure, I should knwe thy face then: +Beesydes my Lord gives no such lyverye. +Nowe in the name of heaven, what art thou? speake, +Speake if thou beest a man! or if a ghost +Then glyde hence lyke a shadowe! tis the--oh!-- +The fryar hathe nimbly skipt back over the wall, +Hath lyke a surly Justyce bensht himself +And sitts heare to accuse uss! where's my Lord? +Helpe, Helpe! his murdered ghost is com from Hell +On earth to cry _Vindicta_![143] + + _Enter L. D'Averne_. + +_D'Av_. What clamors this? + +_Denis_. Oh Syr-- + +_D'Av_. Why, howe is't, _Denis_? + +_Denis_. Never woorse--the fryar, Syr-- + +_D'Av_. What of him? + +_Denis_. The slave that would not leive the place but carried, +Is of himself com back. + +_D'Av_. Whether? + +_Denis_. Looke theere. + +_D'Av_. That which I took to bee meare fantasy +I finde nowe to bee real; murder is +A cryinge sinne, and canot be conceal'd. +Yet his returne is straunge. + +_Denis_, 'Tis most prodigious; +The very thought of it hath put a cricke +Into my necke allredy. + +_D'Av_. One further desperate tryall I will make +And putt it too adventer. + +_Denis_. Pray hows that, Syr? + +_D'Av_. There's in my stable an ould stallion, once +A lusty horse but now past servyce. + +_Denis_. Godd [_sic_], syr. + +_D'Av_. Him I'l have sadled and capparisond. +Heare in the hall a rusty Armor hanges, +Pistolls in rotten cases, an ould sword, +And a cast lance to all these sutable. +I'l have them instantly tooke downe. + +_Den_. And then? + +_D'Av_. In these I'l arme the fryar from head to knee; +Mount him into his saddle, with stronge cords +There bind him fast, and to his gauntlet hand +Fasten his lance; for basses[144] tis no matter, +These his grey skyrts will serve. Thus arm'd, thus mounted, +And thus accoutred, with his beiver upp, +Turne him out of the gates, neither attended +With squire or page, lyke a stronge knight adventures +To seeke a desperate fortune. + +_Denis_. Hee may so if hee please +Ryde post unto the Devill. + +_D'Av_. This I'l see doone, +'Tis a decree determinde. + +_Denis_. Capp a pe +I'l see him arm'd and mounted. + + [_Exeunt_. + + _Enter Fryar Richard_. + +_Fr. R_. This murder canott bee so smothered upp +But I in th'end shall paye for't; but feare still +Is wittye in prevention. Nowe for instance +There's but one refuge left mee, that's to flye: +The gates are shutt upon mee and myself +Am a badd foottman, yet these difficultyes +I can thus helpe; there to this place beelonges +A mare that every second d[a]yes' imployde +To carry corne and fetch meele from the mill, +Distant som half league off; I by this beast +Will fashion myne escape.--What, baker, ho! + +_Within Baker_. What's hee that calls so early? + +_Fr. R_. I, Fryar _Richard_. + +_Baker_. What would you have that you are stirringe thus +An hower before the Dawne. + +_Fr. Rich_. I cannott sleepe +And understandinge there's meale redy ground, +Which thou must fetch this morninge from the mill, +I'l save thee so much pey[n]es. Lend mee the beast, +And lett mee forthe the gate; I'l bringe boathe back +Ere the bell ringe for mattens. + +_Baker_. Marry, Fryar _Richard_, +With all my hart, and thanke yee. I'l but ryse +And halter her, then lett you forthe the gate; +You'l save mee so much labour. + +_Fr. Rich_. This falls out +As I coold wishe, and in a fortunate hower; +For better then to too legges trust to fower. + +_Explicit Actus 4_. + + + + +_Act_ 5. + +SCENE PRIMA. + + + _Enter Thomas Ashburne the younger brother to John, + a merchant, with one of the Factors_.[145] + +_Thomas_. Are all things safe abord? + +_Factor_. As you can wish, sir; +And notwithstandinge this combustious stryfe +Betwixt the winds and Seas, our ship still tight, +No anchor, cable, tackle, sayle or mast +Lost, though much daunger'd; all our damadge is +That where our puerpose was for _Italy_ +We are driven into _Marcellis_. + +_Thomas_. That's myne unhappines +That beinge come upon a brother's quest +Longe absent from his country, who of late +After confinement, penury, distresse +Hath gained a hopefull fortune, and I travelling +To beare him tydeinges of a blest estate +Am in my voyage thwarted. + +_Factor_. In what province +Resydes hee at this present? + +_Thomas_. His last letters +That I receav'd weare dated from _Leagahorne_; +Nowe wee by this infortnate storme are driven +Into _Marcellis_ roads. + +_Factor_. For the small tyme +Of our abode heare what intend you, Sir? + +_Thomas_. To take in victuall and refresh our men, +Provyde us of thinges needefull, then once more +With all the expeditious hast wee can +Sett sayle for _Florens_. + +_Factor_. Please you, Sir, +I'l steward well that busines. + +_Thomas_. I'th meanetyme +I shall find leisure to surveigh the towne, +The keyes, the temples, forts and monuments; +For what's the end of travell but to better us +In judgment and experiens? What are these? +Withdrawe and give them streete-roome. + + _Enter Raphael, Treadeway and the Clowne_. + +_Raph_. Hath my _Palestra_ fownd her parents then? + +_Clowne_. As sure as I had lost you. + +_Raph_. And free borne? + +_Clowne_. As any in _Marcellis_. + +_Raph_. _Englishe_, sayst thou? + +_Clowne_. Or _Brittishe_, which you please. + +_Raph_. Her trew name _Mirable_ +And _Ashburne's_ doughter? + +_Clowne_. Suer as yours is _Raphaels_ +And _Tread-wayes_ his. + +_Thomas_. _Mirable_ and _Ashburne_! + +_Factor_. Names that concerne you, Sir. + +_Thomas_. Peace, listen further. + +_Raph_. Thou with these woords hast extasyde my sowle +And I am all in rapture. Then hee's pleasd +Wee too shalbee contracted? + +_Clowne_. 'Tis his mynd, Sir. + +_Raph_. The moother, too, consents? + +_Clowne_. So you shall finde, Sir. + +_Raph_. And _Mirable_ pleasd, too? + +_Clowne_. Shes so inclind, Sir. + +_Raph_. And this the very day? + +_Clowne_. The tyme assignd, Sir. + +_Raph_. Shee shalbee suerly myne. + +_Clowne_. As vowes can bind, Sir. + +_Raph_. Thou sawest all this? + +_Clowne_. I am suer I was not blind, Sir. + +_Raph_. And all this shall bee done? + +_Clown_. Before you have din'd, Sir. + +_Raph_. Oh, frend, eather pertake with mee in Joy +And beare part of this surplus, I shall else +Dye in a pleasinge surfett. + +_Tread_. Frend, I doo +Withall intreate you interceade for mee +To your fayre loves companion, for if all +Th'estate I have in _France_ can by her freedom, +Shee shall no longer faynt beneathe the yoake +Of lewdnes and temptation. + +_Raph_. The extent +Of that fyxt love I ever vowde to thee +Thou in this act shall find. + +_Tread_. And it shall seale it, +Beyond all date or limitt. + +_Raph_. Come, hasten, frend, methinks at lengthe I spy +After rough tempests a more open skye. + + [_Exeunt[146] Raphael and Treadway_. + +_Clowne_. And I will after you home, Syr, +Since so merrily blowes the wind, Sir. + +_Thomas_. Staye, frend, I am a stranger in these parts +And woold in one thinge gladly bee resolved. + +_Clowne_. I am in haste. + +_Thomas_. That little leasure thou bestowest on mee +I shalbee gladd to pay for; nay, I will. +Drinke that for my sake. + +_Clowne_. Not this, Syr, as it is; for I can make a shifte to dissolve +hard mettall into a more liquid substance. A cardeq![147] oh Syr, I can +distill this into a quintessence cal'd _Argentum potabile_.[148] + +_Thomas_. I heard you name one _Ashburne_; can you bring mee +To th'sight of such a man? + +_Clowne_. Easily I can, Syr. But for another peice of the same stampe, +I can bringe you to heare him, to feele him, to smell, to tast him, and +to feede upon him your whole fyve senses. + +_Thomas_. There's for thee, though I have no hope at all +To finde in _France_ what I in _Florens_ seeke. +And though my brother have no child alyve, +As longe synce lost when I was rob'd of myne, +Yet for the namesake, to my other travells +I'l add this little toyle, though purposeles. +I have about mee letters of Import +Dyrected to a merchant of that name +For whose sake (beeinge one to mee intyred) +I only crave to see the gentleman. + +_Clowne_. Beleeve mee Syr I never love to jest, with those that +beforehand deale with me in earnest. Will you follow mee? + +_Thomas_. Prooves hee my brother, and his dowghter found, +Lost by my want of care, (which canott bee +All reasons well considered) and I so happy +To bringe him newes of a recovered state, +Who to his foes so longe hathe been a prey, +I'd count my monthes and years but from this day. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +SCENE 2. + + + _Enter at one door D'Averne, and Dennis with the Fryar armed. + At the other Fryar Richard and the Baker_. + +_D'Averne_. So nowe all's fitt, the daylight's not yet broake; +Mount him and lock him in the saddle fast, +Then turn him forthe the gates. + +_Dennis_. Pray, Syr, your hand to rayse him. + +_D'Av_. Nowe lett him post, whether his fate shall guide him. + + [_Exeunt_. + + _Ent. Rich. and Baker_. + +_Baker_. The mare's ready. + +_Fr. R_. Only the key to ope the cloyster gate, +Then all is as it shoold be. + +_Baker_. Tak't, there tis. +But make hast, good Fryar _Richard_; you will else +Have no new bredd to dinner. + +_Fr. R_. Feare not, baker; +I'l proove her mettall. Thus I back one mare +Least I shoold ryde another. [_Exit_. + +_Baker_. It is the kindest novyce of my consciens +That ere woare hood or coole. + + [_A noyse within. Trampling of Horses_. + +What noyse is that? now by the Abbot's leave +I will looke out and see. + [_Clere_. + + _Enter Averne and Dennis_. + +_D'Av_. Howe nowe? the newes? +The cause of that strange uprore? + +_Den_. Strange indeed, +But what th'event will bee, I cannott guesse. + +_D'Av_. Howe is it, speake. + +_Den_. I had no sooner, as your Lordshipp badd, +Putt him upon his voyadge, turn'd him out, +But the ould resty stallion snuft and neighd, +And smelt, I thinke, som mare, backt (I perceavd +By the moone light) by a Fryar, in whose pursuite +Our new made horseman with his threatninge lance, +Pistolles, and rotten armor made such noyse +That th'other, frighted, clamours throughe the streetes +Nothinge but deathe and murder. + +_D'Av_. But the sequell?-- +The clamour still increasethe. [_Noyse_. + + _Enter the Baker rooninge_. + +_Baker_. Oh never, never, +Was seene such open mallyce! + +_Den_. What's the busines? + +_Baker_. Give mee but leave to breath--Oh especially in a cloyster! + +_Den_. Out wee't, man. + +_Baker_. The novyce _Richard_, to save mee a labour, +Borrowed my mare to fetch meale for the mill. +I knowe not howe the devill Fryar _Jhon_ knew't, +But all in armor watch't him gooinge out +And after spurrs to chardge him, beeinge unarmd, +0 suer if hee cannott reatch him with his lance +Hee'l speede him with his pistolls. + +_Denis_. All's well yet. + [_Noyse_. + +_Baker_. This noyse hath cal'd much people from there bedds, +And troobled the whole villadge. + +_Fr. R_. (_within_). Hold, hold, I do confesse the murder. + +_Baker_. Suer hee hath slayne him, for murder is confest. + +_D'Av_. Tis better still. + + _Enter Ashburne, Godfrey, &c_. + +_Godf_. Was never knowne the lyke! + +_Baker_. Is _Ritchard_ slayne? +I sawe Fryar _Jhon_, arm'd dreadfully with weapons +Not to be worne in peace, pursue his lyfe; +All which I'l tell the abbott. + [_Exit Baker_. + +_Ashb_. Most strange it is that the pursude is fownd +To bee the murderer, the pursuer slayne. +Howe was it, _Godfrey_? thou wast upp beefore mee +And canst discoorse it best. + +_Godfr_. Thus, Syr: at noyse of murder, with the tramplinge +Of horse and ratlinge armor in the streetes, +The villadgers weare wakend from there sleepes; +Som gap't out of there windowes, others venter'd +Out of theere doores; amongst which I was one +That was the foremost, and saw _Ritchard_ stopt +At a turninge lane, then overtooke by _Jhon_; +Who not him self alone, but even his horse +Backing the tother's beast, seemd with his feete +To pawe him from his saddle; att this assault +Friar _Richard_ cryes, hold, hold and haunt mee not +For I confesse the murder! folke came in +Fownd th'one i'th sadle dead, the t'other sprallinge +Upon the earthe alyve, still cryinge out +That hee had doun the murder. + +_D'Av_. Exellent still; withdrawe, for wee are saffe. + + _Enter the Abbott, the baker, Fryar Richard, prisoner + and guarded, &c_.[149]-- + +_Abbott_. These mischeefes I foretould; what's mallyce elsse +Than murder halff comitted? though th'event +Bee allmost above apprehension strange, +Yet synce thyne owne confession pleades thee guilty +Thou shalt have leagall tryall. + +_Fr. Rich_. I confess +I was the malefactor and deserve +Th'extremity of Lawe; but woonder much +Howe hee in such a short tyme after death +Should purchase horse and weapons. + +_Abbot_. Murder's a sinne +Which often is myraculously reveal'd. +Lett justyce question that; beare him to prison, +The t'other to his grave. + +_Baker_. Beeinge so valiant after deathe mee thinkes hee deserves the +honor to bee buried lyke a knight in his compleate armor. + +_Abbot_. These thinges shoold not bee trifled. Honest frendes, +Retyre you to your homes; these are our chardge. +Wee will acquaint our patron with this sadd +And dyre desaster; fyrst his counsell use, +Next as wee maye our Innocens excuse. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +SCENA 3, ET ULTIMA. + + + _Enter Mildewe and Sarleboyes_.[150] + +_Mild_. May the disease of _Naples_ now turn'd _Frensh_ +Take bothe the Judge and Jurors! they have doomd +The fayre _Palestra_ from mee. + +_Sarl_. So they had +_Scribonia_ too, and mulcted us beesydes, +But that in part they did comiserate +Our so greate losse by sea. + +_Mild_. This is the curse +Belonges to all us bawdes: gentle and noble, +Even th'ouldest fornicator, will in private +Make happy use of us with hugges and brybes; +But let them take us at the publick bench, +Gainst consciens they will spitt at us and doome us +Unto the post and cart. Oh the coruptnes +Of these dissemblinge letchers! + +_Sarlab_. 'Tis well yet +You have reserved one virgin left for sale; +Of her make your best proffitt. + +_Mild_.[151] A small stocke +To rayse a second fortune; yet com, frend, +Wee will go seeke her out. + + _Enter Gripus the Fisherman_. + +_Fisher_. No budgett to bee com by; my ould mayster, +Hee stands on consciens to deliver it +To the trew owner, but I thinke in consciens +To cheate mee and to keepe it to him selfe; +Which hee shall never doo, to prevent which +I'l openly proclayme it. + [_Oh yes_! + If any userer or base exacter, + Any noble marchant or marchant's factor, + Bee't marchant venterer or marchant Taylor + Bee hee Mr. Pilot, botswyne or saylor-- + + _Enter Godfrey to them_. + +_Godf_. Hist, _Gripus_, hyst! + +_Fish_. Peace, fellowe _Godfrey_. I'l now play the blabber.-- +If eather passinger owner or swabber[152] +That in the sea hathe lost a leather budgett +And to the Dolphins, whales or sharkes, doth grudge itt-- + +_Godf_. Wilt thou betraye all? I'I go tell my mayster. + +_Fish_. Yes, _Godfrey_, goe and tell him all and spare not, +I am growne desperate; if thou dost I care not. + +_Mild_. Hee talkt of a leatheren budgett lost at sea; +More of that newes would please mee. + +_Fish_. Bee hee a Cristian or beleeve in _Mawmett_[153] +I such a one this night tooke in my drawnett. + +_Mild_. My soone, my child, nay rather, thou young man, +I'l take thee for my father, for in this +Sure thou hast new begott mee. + +_Fish_. Blessing on thee! +But shoold I have a thousand children more, +I almost durst presume I never should have +Another more hard favored. + +_Mild_. Thou art any thinge. +But hast thou such a budgett? + +_Fisher_. Syr, I have +And new tooke from the sea. What woldst thou give +And have it safe? + +_Mild_. I'l give a hundred crownes. + +_Fish_. Tush, offer me a sowse[154] but not in th'eare; +I will barr that afore hand. + +_Mild_. And all safe, +I'l give thee then too hondred. + +_Fish_. Offer me a cardeq! + +_Mild_. Three hondred, 4, nay fyve +So nothinge bee diminisht. + +_Fish_. I will have +A thousand crowns or nothinge. + +_Mild_. That growes deepe. + +_Fish_. Not so deepe as the sea was. + +_Mild_. Make all safe, +And I will give a thousand. + +_Fish_. Tis a match, +But thou wilt sweare to this. + +_Mild_. Give mee myne othe. + +_Fish_. If, when first I shall beehold + My leatheren bagge that's stuft with gould, + At sight thereof I paye not downe + To _Gripus_ every promist crowne-- + Now say after mee. + May _Mildewe_ I in my best age. + +_Mild_. May _Mildewe_ I in my best age. + +_Fish_. Dy in some spittle, stocks or cage.[155] + +_Mild_. Dy in some spittle stocks or cage. + +_Fish_. I'l keepe my promisse, fayle not thou thine oathe. +So inn and tell my mayster. [_Exit Fisherman_. + +_Mild_. Yes, bawdes keepe oaths! t'must bee in leap-yeare then, +Not now; what wee sweare weel forsweare agen. + + _Enter Ashburne, Godfrey, and Gripus, to 'em_. + +_Ashb_. And hee in that did well, for Heaven defend +I shoold inritche mee with what's none of myne. +Where is the man that claymes it? + +_Grip_. Heare's my sworne soon, that but even now acknowledgd mee to +bee his father. + +_Ashb_. Knowest thou this? + +_Mild_. Yes for myne owne. I had thought, lyke one forlorne, +All fortune had forsooke mee, but I see +My best dayes are to com. Welcom my lyfe! +Nay if there bee in any bawde a sowle +This nowe hath mett the body. + +_Ashb_. All's theire safe +Unrifled, naye untutcht, save a small caskett +With som few trifles of no valewe in't, +Yet to mee pretious, synce by them I have fownd +My one and only doughter. + +_Mild_. Howes that, pray? + +_Ashb_. Thus; thy _Palestra_ is my _Mirable_. + +_Mild_. Now may you to your comfort keepe the guerle, +Synce of my wealthe I am once againe possest. +I heare acquitt you of all chardges past +Due for her education. + +_Ashb_. You speake well. + +_Grip_. It seemes you are possest, and this your owne. + +_Mild_. Which I'l knowe howe I part with. + +_Grip_. Com quickly and untrusse. + +_Mild_. Untrusse, Syr? what? + +_Grip_. Nay if you stand on poynts,[156] my crowns, my crowns: +Com tell them out, a thousand. + +_Mild_. Thousand deathes +I will indure fyrst! synce I neather owe thee +Nor will I paye thee any thinge. + +_Grip_. Didst thou not sweare? + +_Mild_. I did, and will againe +If it bee to my profit, but oathes made +Unto our hurt wee are not bound to keepe. + +_Ashb_. What's that you chalendge, _Gripus_. + +_Grip_. Not a sowse lesse +Then a full thousand crownes. + +_Ashb_. On what condition? + +_Grip_. So much hee vowed and swore to paye mee downe +At sight of this his budgett; a deneere +I will not bate; downe with my dust, thou perjurer. + +_Ashb_. But did hee sweare? + +_Mild_. Suppose it, saye I did. + +_Ashb_. Then thus I saye, oathes ta'ne advisedly +Ought to bee kept; and this I'l see performed, +What's forfett to my man is due to mee; +I claime it as my right; these your bawdes fallacyes +In this shall no weye helpe you, you shall answer it +Now as a subject and beefore the judge. + +_Mild_. If I appeare in coort I am lost againe; +Better to part with that then hazard all. +These bagges conteine fyve hundred pownds apeece, +Tak't and the pox to boot. + +_Grip_. And all these myne? + +_Godf_. Would I might have a share in't. + +_Ashb_. Nowe tell mee, _Mildewe_, howe thou ratest the freedome +Of th'other virgin yonge _Scribonia_, +Companion with my dowghter? + +_Mild_. I am weary +Of this lewde trade; give mee fyve hundred crownes +And take her; I'l gie't over now in tyme +Ere it bringe mee to the gallowes. + +_Ashb_. There's for her ransom; she's from henceforthe free. + +_Grip_. Howe, Syr? + +_Ashb_. These other, _Gripus_, still belonge to thee +Towards the manumission. + + _Enter at one doore Palestra, Scribonia; at the other + Raphael, Treadway, Thomas Ashburne and the Clowne_. + +_Raph_. If all bee trewe my man related to mee +I have no end of Joy. + +_Ash_. This is my _Mirable_, +My doughter and freeborne; and if you still +Persist the same man you profest your self, +Beehold shee is your wyfe. + +_Raph_. You crowne my hopes. + +_Mir_. This very day hathe made mee full amends +For many yeares of crosses. + +_Tread_. Nowe my suite. + +_Raph_. Nor are my expectations yet at heighte +Before my frend bee equally made blest +In this fayer damsell's love. + +_Tread_. To accomplishe which +If all the wealth that I injoye by land, +Or what at Sea's in ventur, will but purchase +With her release a tye of love to mee, +This hower it shalbe tenderd. + +_Ashb_. Offer'd fayrely; +But knwe, syr, could you winne her to your wishes, +She shall not lyke a bondemaide come to ye; +Fyve hundred crownes are tenderd downe all redy +(Unknowne to her) for her free liberty. + +_Scrib_. This is a Juberly, a yeare of Joy, +For chastity and spotles Inocens. + +_Tread_. Shall I intreate you to receive them backe? +Lett it bee made my woorke of charity. + +_Ashb_. I knowe you woorthy, but that must not bee; +Yet proove her, court her, with my free consent +And use the best love's rethorick you can: +If with the motion shee rest satisfied, +And you pleas'd to accept her, it shall never +Bee sayde you tooke a captyve to your bedd +But a free woman. + +_Tread_. Nobly have you spoake. + +_Raph_. Fayre _Mirable_, the fyrst thinge I intreate you +In which to expresse your love, speake for my frend. + +_Mir_. And with my best of Oratory. + +_Raph_.[157] Weel be all +Assistants in the motion. + +_Ashb_. If you prevayle, +I in the absens of som nearer frend +Have vowed to stand her father. + +_Clowne_. Now, Sir, I have showed him you, but are you ever the wyser? + +_Thom. Ash_. Peace, I am somwhat trobled. Oh tis hee, +My brother; and those rude and violent gusts +That to this strange Road thrust my shipp per force, +And I but late for new disasters curst, +Have with there light winges mounted mee aloft, +And for a haven in heaven new harbord mee. +Yet they but feede upon theire knowne delights; +Anon I'l make them surfett. + +_Scrib_. If to this frendly fayer society, +I, a poore desolate virgin, so much bownd, +Should putt you off with delatory trifles +When you importune answer, t'would appeare +In mee strange incivility: I am yours +And, beeinge so, therefore consequently his. + +_Ashb_. A match then! but, ere further you proceede, +Resolve mee one thinge, _Mildewe_,--not as thou art +Thyself, but as thou once weart made a Christian,-- +Knowest thou this made's descent, and parentadge? + +_Mild_. I will resolve you lyke a convertite,[158] +Not as the man I was: I knew there byrthes, +But for myne owne gayne kept them still conceal'd. + +_Ashb_. Now as thou hop'st of grace-- + +_Mild_. The nurse late dead +That had these too in chardge, betrayde a shipboord +And ravisht from her coontry, ere she expyr'd +Nam'd her the doughter of _Jhon Ashburne_, marchant. +Her I _Palestra_ cal'd, shee _Mirable_; +That, _Winefryde_, doughter to _Thomas Ashburne_ +Brother to the sayde _Jhon_, I cal'd _Scribonia_. +They too are coosin germans. + +_Ashb_. This our neece? + +_Thom_. My doughter? + +_Pal_. Partners in sorrowe, and so neere allyde, +And wee till nowe neare knewe it! + +_Scrib_. My deere coosin. + +_Ashb_. Nay, I'l bee my woords mayster; reache your hands, +And thoughe no nearer then an Unkle, once +I'l playe the father's part. + +_Thom_. Praye hold your hand, Syr; +Heares one that will doo't for you. + +_Ash_. Brother _Thomas_! + +_Thom_. Peruse that letter, whilst I breathe these Joys, +Impartinge these a most unlimitted love +In equall distribution, doughter, neece, +Brother, and frends; lett mee devyde amongst you +A fathers, brothers, and a kinsman's yoake +With all th'unmeasured pleasures and delights +That thought of man can wishe you. + +_Ashb_. Spare reply. +These tell mee, that those bloodhounds who pursude +My fall, my oppressinge creditors I meane, +Are gone before to answer for my wronges, +And in there deathes with due acknowledgment +Of all theire violens doon mee; peace with them! +That lykewyse by the deathe of a ritche alderman, +My unkle, I am left a fayer estate +In land, eight hundred by the yeare, in coyne +Twenty fyve thousand pound. Make mee, oh heaven, +For this greate blessinge gratefull! and not least +To you my Indeer'd brother. + +_Thom_. One thinge woonders mee +That I should fynd you neare _Marcellis_ heare, +When I was aym'd for _Florens_; where your letters +Inform'd mee you were planted. + +_Ashb_. But even thither +Those crewell men dog'd mee with such pursuit +That theire I fownd no safety, but was forct +To fly thence with that little I had left +And to retyre mee to this obscure place; +Where by the trade of fishinge I have lyv'd +Till nowe of a contented competens. +Those bates, hookes, lynes and netts for thy good servyce, +_Gripus_, I nowe make thyne. + +_Grip_. You are my noble mayster, and would I could have fownd more +tricks then these in my budgett, they had bin all at your servyce. + +_Ashb_. I purpose nowe for _England_, whether so please +These gentlemen consort us with theire brydes. + +_Boathe_. Most willingly. + +_Ashb_. There you shall see what welcome +Our _London_, so much spoake of heare in _France_, +Can give to woorthy strangers. + +_Thom_. Att my chardge +Your shippinge is provyded, and at anchor +Lyes ready in the roade. + +_Ashb_. Oh happy storme +That ends in such a calme! + + _Enter Godfreye in haste_. + +_Godf_. Staye, gentlemen, and see a dolefull sight; +One ledd to execution for a murder +The lyke hath scarce bin heard of. + +_Ash_. Of the Fryar? +In part we weare ey witness of the fact, +Nor is our hast so great but wee maye staye +To viewe his tragick end, whom the strickt lawe +Hathe made a Just example. + + _Enter the Abbott, Fryar Richard, Shreeve and officers_. + +_Abb_. Upon thy trewe confession I have given thee +Such absolution as the churche allowes. +What hast thou else to saye ere thou art made +To all men heare a wofull spectacle? + +_Fr. R_. This only, that betwixt Fryar _Jhon_ and mee +Was ever hate and mallyce; and althoughe +With no entent of murder, this my hand +This most unfortnate hand, beereft his lyff, +For which vile deede I mercy begge of Heaven, +Next of the woorld, whom I offended too, +Pardon and pitty. More to saye I have not: +Heaven of my sowle take chardge, and of my body +Dispose thou, honest hangeman. + +_Clown_. Lasse, poore Fryar, and yet there's great hope of his sowle, +for I canot spye one heyre betwixt him and heaven. + +_Fisher_. And yet I dowbt hee will make but a bald reckninge of it. + + _Enter the Lord De Averne and his man Dennis_. + +_Av_. Staye the execution. + +_Abb_. Our noble fownder out of his greate charity +And woonted goodnes begg'd him a reprieve! + +_Av_. Brought a reprieve I have: lett go the Fryar, +And take from mee your warrant; I dischardge him. + +_Sherif_. And yet, my Lord, 'tis fitt for our dischardge +That the Kinge's hand bee seene. + +_Av_. If not my woord +Will passe for currant, take my person then, +Or if you thinke unequall the exchaunge +I tender my man's too to valewe his. +Meanetyme dismisse him as one Innocent +Of what hee is condemde. + +_Abb_. By his owne mouthe +Hee stands accus'd. + +_Av_. And wetnes all of you, +As frely I acquitt him. + +_Sher_. Honored Syr, +Praye bee more playne, wee understand you not. + +_Av_. I'l make it playne then. + +_Cl_. Now if thou bee'st wyse drawe thy neck out of the collar, doo, +Slipp-stringe, doo. + +_Rich_. Marry, with all my hart and thanke him too. + +_Av_. Attend mee, reverend father, and you all +Of this assembly: for som spleene conceiv'd +Against the Fryar deceast, I strangled him; +The cause why no man heare importun mee: +For many reasons to my self best knowne +I hold fitt to conceale it, but I murdered him +In myne owne howse. + +_Abb_. But by your Honor's favour +How can that bee when _Richard_ heere confest +Hee slewe him in our cloyster? + +_Av_. Heare me outt. +At fyrst, untutcht with horror of the fact, +My purpose was to laye the guilt elswhear +And for that purpose caus'd my man to mount him +Over the cloyster wall. + +_Denis_. Which soone I did +By th'helpe of a short ladder, sett him theire +In a close-place and thoughe not of the sweetest +Yet as I thought the safest; left him there. + +_Fr. R_. Just in that place I found him, and imadgining +He satt of purpose theire to despight mee, +I hitt him with a stone, hee fell withall +And I thought I had slayne him. + +_Dennis_. But howe the Devill +Gott hee into our porch? that woonders mee. + +_Fr. R_. I fownd a ladder theire. + +_Den_. The same I left. + +_Fr. R_. Gott him upon my shoolders and by that +Conveighd him back and left him in that porch, +Wheare, as it seemes, you fownd him. + +_Av_. This troblinge us, it drove us to newe plotts. +We arm'd the Fryar, accoutred as you sawe, +Mounted him on a stallion, lock't him fast +Into the saddle, turn'd him forthe the gates +To trye a second fortune. + +_Fr. R_. Just at the tyme +When, I beeinge mounted on the baker's mare, +The gates weare sett wyde ope for mee to fly. + +_Abb_. So that it seemes one beast pursuide the tother, +And not the dead Fryar _Richard_. + +_Av_. Howsoever, +As one repentant for my rashnes past, +And loathe to Imbrewe mee in more Innocent blood, +I fyrst confesse my servant's guilt and myne, +Acquitt the Fryar, and yeeld our persons upp +To the full satisfaction of the lawe. + + _Enter the Lady Averne and her maid Mellesent_. + +_Lady_. Which, noble Sir, the Kinge thus mittigates: +See, I have heare your pardon. In the tyme +That you weare ceas'd with this deepe melancholly +And inward sorrowe for a sinne so fowle, +My self in person posted to the Kinge +(In progresse not farr off), to him related +The passadge of your busines, neather rose I +From off my knees till hee had signd to this. + +_Av_. Th'hast doon the offyce of a noble wyfe. +His grace I'l not despyse, nor thy great love +Ever forgett, and iff way may bee fownd +To make least satisfaction to the dead, +I'l doo't in vowed repentance. + +_Abb_. Which our prayers +In all our best devotions shall assist. + +_Ashb_. All ours, great Syr, to boote. + +_Av_. Wee knowe you well and thanke you. + +_Ashb_. But must nowe +Forsake this place, which wee shall ever blesse +For the greate good that wee have fownd therein, +And hence remoove for _England_. + +_Av_. Not beefore +All your successfull Joyes wee heare related +To comfort our late sorrowes; to which purpose +Wee invite you and your frends to feast with us. +That granted, we will see you safe aboord: +And as wee heare rejoyce in your affayers, +Forget not us in _England_ in your prayers. + + [_Exeunt_. + + +FINIS. + + + + + + +INTRODUCTION TO THE COSTLIE WHORE. + + +_The Costlie Whore_, though not of the highest rarity, is a scarce play. +It has never been reprinted, and thoroughly deserves on its own merits a +place in the present collection. The conduct of the story is simple and +straight-forward; the interest is well sustained; and the poetry has all +the freshness and glow of youth. + +The play bears some indications of having been written in 1613. In I. 2, +where the Duke's brothers are devising schemes for enriching themselves +at the state's expense, occurs the following passage:-- + + "_Al_. I have a commission drawne for making glasse. + Now if the Duke come, as I thinke he will, + Twill be an excellent meanes to lavish wood; + And then the cold will kill them, had they bread. + + _Hat_. The yron Mills are excellent for that. + I have a pattent drawne to that effect; + If they goe up, downe goes the goodly trees; + Ile make them search the earth to find new fire." + +The mention of the "yron Mills" appears to refer to the patent granted +to Clement Daubigny for cutting iron into rods. On 13th March,[159] +1612-13, the Commissioners of Suits forwarded to the Lord Mayor a +petition from Daubigny for the renewal of letters patent. They enclosed +petitions from nailmakers and other smiths, shipmasters, shipowners, and +shipwrights, from which it would appear that the iron imported from +foreign parts was brittle and useless; and being themselves unable to +judge accurately of the quality of iron, they directed the Lord Mayor to +take the evidence of the Master and some of the Wardens of the +Blacksmiths', Ironmongers', and Carpenters' Companies, of the Master and +some of the Brethren of the Trinity House, and of any others that he +might think fit to consult: after hearing the evidence, he was to draw +up a statement of his own views and return Daubigny's petition. On 31st +March the Lord Mayor addressed a letter to the Lords of the Council, in +which he stated that from the evidence of the various witnesses he had +been convinced that the patent would raise the price of iron, hinder the +king in his customs, and further the decay of woods; and he added that +the Flemish iron was for the most part good and tough. It will be +observed that one of the objections raised by the Lord Mayor to the +granting of the patent--namely that a great consumption of wood (as fuel +for smelting the ore) would follow--is specially put forward by the +dramatist. The mention in Alfred's speech of a scheme for glassmaking +seems also to suggest 1613 as the date of authorship; for on 17th +November of that year Sir Jerome Bowes and Sir Edward Zouch procured +patents for making glass.[160] + +There are other allusions that point to 1613. In II. 4, we find--"Make +us for want coyn brasse and passe it current." The first patent for the +coining of brass farthing-tokens was granted on 10th April, 1613, to +John Stanhope, Lord Harrington; and the grant caused general +dissatisfaction.[161] Again: in the same scene there is a reference to +the exportation of broad cloth:--"I, an't please your honour, have a +commoditie of good broad cloth, not past two hundred; may I shippe them +over? and theres a hundred poundes." When we turn to the State Papers we +discover that numerous complaints were made in 1613 about the +exportation of undressed broadcloth. On 3rd March, 1612-13, the King +forwarded to the Lords of the Council a petition from the clothworkers +and dyers that the statutes against the exportation of undressed and +undyed goods should be strictly enforced. I am inclined to think that +these passages, taken collectively, afford strong proof that _The +Costlie Whore_ was written in 1613--twenty years before the date of +publication. + +In I. 2, we have the story of Bishop Hatto and the Rats told briefly but +effectively. Mr. Baring-Gould in his _Curious Myths of the Middle Ages_ +has investigated the sources of the legend with much fulness. He refers +us specially to Wolfius's _Lect. Memorab_., Lavingae, 1600, tom. i. p. +343. From the Stationers' Registers it appears that a ballad of _The +Wrathfull Judgement of God upon Bishop Hatto_ was licensed to H. Carre +on 15th August, 1586. The dramatist has invested the story with the +glamour of that poetical strangeness which is the very salt of such +narrations:-- + + "_Alf_. He did proclaime reliefe unto the poore; + Assembled them unto a private Barne, + And, having lockt the doore, set it on fire, + Saying hee'de rid the countrie of such Mice: + And Mice and Rats have rid him from the World. + + * * * * * + + _Duke_. Could not this palace, seated in the _Rheine_ + In midst of the great River, (to the which + No bridge, nor convay, other then by boats + Was to be had) free him from vermine Rats? + + _Alf_. Against their kind the land Rats took the water + And swomme in little armies to the house, + And, though we drownd and killed innumerable, + Their numbers were like _Hydra's_ heads increasing; + Ruine bred more untill our brother died. + + _Duke_. The house is execrable; Ile not enter. + + _Hat_. You need not feare, my Lord; the house is free + From all resort of Rats; for _at his death, + As if a trumpet sounded a retreat, + They made a kind of murmure and departed_." + + + + +THE COSTLIE WHORE. + +A COMICALL HISTORIE, + + +Acted by the companie of _the Revels_. + + +LONDON Printed by _Augustine Mathewes_, for WILLIAM SHEARES, and HVGH +PERRIE, and are to be sold at their shoppe, in _Brittaines Burse_. 1633. + + + +The Actors Names. + +_Duke of Saxonie_. +_Fredericke_ his sonne. +_Hatto_, | Brothers to the Duke. +_Al[f]rid_, | +_Montano_, kinsman to the Duke. +_Euphrata_, daughter to the Duke. +_Constantine_, a lover of _Euphrata_. +_Otho_, a friend to _Constantine_. +_Alberto_, | Two Lords. +_Reynaldo_, | +_Vandermas_, a Pander. +_Valentia_, the Costly _Whore_. +_Julia_, a Gentlewoman to _Euphrata_. +_Two Maides_. +_Petitioners_. +_Beggers_. +_Servants_. + + + +THE COSTLY _WHORE_. + + +[_Act the First_.] + +[SCENE 1.] + + + _Enter Constantine and Otho_. + +_Constantine_. How do'st thou like the lovely _Euphrata_? + +_Otho_. I did not marke her. + +_Const_. Then thou didst not marke +The fairest _Saxon_ Lady in mine eye +That ever breath'd a maid. + +_Otho_. Your minde now knowne, +Ile say shee is the fairest in the world, +Were she the foulest. + +_Con_. Then thou canst dissemble. + +_Otho_. You know I cannot; but, deare _Constantine_, +I prethee tell me first, what is that Ladie, +That wonder of her sexe, cal'd _Euphrata_? +Whose daughter is she? + +_Const_. I cannot blame thee, _Otho_, +Though thou be ignorant of her high worth, +Since here in _Saxon_ we are strangers both; +But if thou cal'st to minde why we left _Meath_, +Reade the trice[162] reason in that Ladies eye, +Daughter unto the Duke of _Saxonie_, +Shee unto whom so many worthy Lords +Vail'd Bonnet when she past the Triangle, +Making the pavement Ivory where she trode. + +_Otho_. She that so lightly toucht the marble path +That leadeth from the Temple to the presence? + +_Const_. The same. + +_Otho_. Why, that was white before, +White Marble, _Constantine_, whiter by odds +Then that which lovers terme the Ivory hand, +Nay then the Lillie whitenesse of her face. + +_Con_. Come, thou art a cavilling companion: +Because thou seest my heart is drown'd in love, +Thou wilt drowne me too. I say the Ladie's faire; +I say I love her, and in that more faire; +I say she loves me, and in that most faire; +Love doth attribute in Hyperbolies +Unto his Mistris the creation +Of every excellence, because in her +His eies do dreame of perfect excellence.-- +And here she comes; observe her, gentle friend. + + [_Enter Euphrata_. + +_Euph_. Welcome, sweet _Constantine_. + +_Con_. My _Euphrata_. + +_Euph_. Thy _Euphrata_, be thou my _Constantine_. +But what is he? a stranger, or thy friend? + +_Con_. My second selfe, my second _Euphrata_. +If thou beest mine, salute her, gentle _Otho_. + +_Otho_. An humble and a true devoted heart +I tender to you in a mindes chast kisse. + +_Euph_. Welcome to me, since welcome to my friend. + +_Otho_.--A beautiful, an admirable Ladie! +I thinke 'tis fatall unto every friend +Never to love, untill his friend first love, +And then his choice; but sooner will I teare +Out of this brest mine affection with my heart. + +_Euph_. Hearing, sweet _Constantine_, thou wert so nere me, +I came as I were winged to gaze on thee. + +_Con_. And would to heaven there were no bar in time +To hinder me from thy desired sight, +But thousand sutors eyes, do watch my steps; +And harke, I heare some trampling. How now, _Julia_? + + _Enter Julia_. + +_Juli_. Madam, the Lord Montano, spying you +To leave the presence and to enter here, +Hath ever since waited your comming foorth. +And will not be denied untill he see you. + +_Euph_. Of all my sutors, most importunate. + +_Con_. What is he, love? + +_Euph_. Of very noble birth, +But my affection is not tyed to birth. +I must dispense with this kind conference +For some small time, untill I rid him hence. +Therefore within my closet hide thy selfe; +Your friend shall _Julia_ guide into the garden, +Where through a private doore, but seldome us'd, +He may at pleasure leave us and returne. +Deny me not I prethee, _Constantine_; +Thou hast my heart, and would thy birth were such +I need not feare t'avouch thee for my Love. + +_Otho_. Madam, I take my leave. [_Exit Otho_. + +_Con_. Farewell, deare friend, +Returne as soone as may be; farewell Love. [_Exit_. + +_Euph_. Now guide _Montano_ hither. + + _Enter Montano_. + +_Mon_. Gracious Madam, +I have seene the noble Palsgrave, the Prince +Of _Milleine_, and the Palatine of the _Rheine_, +With divers other honorable sutors, +Mounted to ride unto their severall places. + +_Euph_. Of me they took their farewell yesternight. + +_Mon_. What meanes your grace to be so unkind to all? +You drive away good fortune by disdaine. + +_Euph_. Why are you grieving too? + +_Mon_. I am your subject, +The meanest that did humbly seeke your love, +Yet not the meanest in affection; +And I am come to take my farewell too. + +_Euph_. Why, then farewell. + +_Mon_. So short with them that love you? + +_Euph_. Your journey may be great, for ought I know; +And 'tis an argument of little love +To be the hinderer of a traveller. + +_Mon_. My journey, Madame, is unto my house, +Scarce halfe a league hence, there to pine and die, +Because I love such beauteous crueltie. + +_Euph_. God speede you, sir. + +_Mon_. Nay then I will not leave you. +Madam, 'tis thought, and that upon good ground, +You have shrin'd your affection in the heart +Of some (whatere he be) noble or base, +And thats the cause you lightlie censure[163] all. + +_Euph_. Who thinkes it? + +_Mon_. I doe, Madame, and your father. + +_Euph_. It is upon my vowed chastitie. + +_Mon_. What devill made you sweare to chastitie, +Or have you tane that oath onely for a terme? + +_Euph_. A terme, what terme? + +_Mon_. A terme of some seven yeeres, +Or peradventure halfe the number more. + +_Euph_. For terme of life. + +_Mon_. You have sworne, to be forsworne: +He was no well disposed friend of yours +That gave you consaile [_sic_] to forsweare such beautie. +Why, 'tis as if some traveiler had found +A mine of gold, and made no use of it. +For terme of life! Why, then die presently; +So shall your debt to nature be farre lesse, +Your tyranny over man's yeelding heart +Be lesse condemned. Oh, you were made for man, +And living without man to murder men. +If any creature be so fortunate +That lives in grace of your all gracious selfe, +Though I am well perswaded 'tis not I, +I vow by all the rites of vertuous love, +Be he ignoble, of the basest sort, +To please you, Madame, Ile renounce my suite +And be a speciall meane unto your father +To grant your hearts affection, though I die. + +_Euph_. Now, Lord _Montano_, you come neere my heart, +And were I sure that you would keepe your word, +As I am sure you love me by your deedes, +I might perchance deliver you my thoughts. + +_Mon_. By heaven and by your beauteous selfe I will. + +_Euph_. Then, _Constantine_, come forth; behold thy friend. + + _Enter Constantine_. + +_Con_. Madame, what meane you, to reveale our love? + +_Mon_. This is a very stubborne Gentleman. +A Gentleman? a pesant! _Saxonie_, +Affords not one more base. + +_Con_. He does me wrong, +That termes me meaner then a gentleman. + +_Mon_. I tearme thee so. + +_Euph_. Why, how now, Lord _Montano_? +You do forget your oath. + +_Mont_. And you your selfe, +Your Princely father, and the Dukedomes honour, +To chaine your liking to a groome so base. + +_Con_. He lies that calles me groome. + + _Enter Julia_. + +_Ju_. O God, forbeare: +His Excellence your father's comming hither. + +_Mon_. He comes in happie time, to know the cause +Why such great Princes have bin made your scorne. + +_Euph_. What, will you tell him? + +_Mon_. Will I? let me die +Contemn'd of heaven, in publique obloquie, +If I reveale not this lascivious course. + +_Ju_. We are undone. + +_Con_. Hence with this prating Maide. +If thou hast any anger in thy brest +Towards this Lady, turne it all on me. +She is a woman, timerous by her kinde; +I, man-like borne, and beare a man-like minde. + +_Mon_. Ile trie your courage. [_Draw_.[164] + +_Euph_. As thou fear'st my frowne, +As thou hast hope to thrive in thy new choice, +As thou respect'st the favour of the gods, +Welfare in any action thou intends, +Doe not reveale unto my fretfull father +This humble choice that my high birth hath made. + +_Mon_. Why, then forsweare him. + +_Euph_. Sooner set thy feet +Upon my breast, and tread me to the ground. + +_Ju_. As thou art any thing more then a beast, +Doe not procure my Ladie such disgrace. + +_Mon_. Peace, bawde, Ile have no conference with you. + +_Euph_. He cannot hurt me, 'tis my Love I feare. +Although my father be as sterne as warre, +Inexorable like consuming fire, +As jealous of his honour as his crowne, +To me his anger is like _Zephires_ breath +Cast on a banke of sommer violets, +But to my Love like whirlewinde to a boate +Taken in midst of a tumultuous sea. + + _Enter Duke of Saxonie and Fredericke_. + +Alas, he comes! Montano, prethee, peace. +Courage, sweete Love. + +_Con_. I see our love must cease. + +_Euph_. Not if my wit can helpe; it shall goe hard +But Ile prevent the traitor. + +_Mon_. Heare me, my Lord. + +_Euph_. Heare me, my gracious father. + +_Mon_. Heare me, my liege: ther's treason in your Court, +I have found a peasant in the Princesse closet; +And this is he that steales away her honour. + +_Euph_. This villaine, gracious father, 'tis that seekes +To rob me of mine honor, you your daughter. + +_Mon_. Now, as you are a right heroike Prince, +Be deafe unto your daughters faire[165] words. + +_Euph_. Be deafe to him, as you regard your selfe. + +_Duke_. What strange confusion's this that cloyes our hearing? + +_Fred_. Speake, beauteous sister, who hath done thee wrong? + +_Mon_. Her self. + +_Euph_. This traitor. + +_Fre_. Lord _Montano_? + +_Euph_. Hee. + +_Fred_. Villaine, thou dyest. + +_Mon_. Stay, she meanes _Constantine_, +He that I found infolded in her closet, +Reaping the honour which a thousand Lords +Have fail'd in seeking in a lawful course. + +_Con_. He does me wrong, my gracious soveraigne. + +_Ju_. He wrongs my Ladie, an't please your grace. + +_Mon_. Ile tell the trueth. + +_Euph_. Or rather let me tell it. + +_Mon_. Lacivious love is ever full of sleights. + +_Euph_. Villaines, that seeke by treason their desires, +Want no suggestion to beguile a trueth. + +_Mon_. I say, I found this peasant in her closet +Kissing, imbracing, and dishonouring her. + +_Euph_. I say, an't please your gracious Excellence, +I found this Gentleman within my closet, +There set by subornation of this Lord, +And here appointed to dishonor me. +Speake, is't not true? + +_Con_. True, if it please your grace. + +_Duke_. What say you, strumpet? + +_Ju_. Since my Ladie saies so, +I say and't please your Excellence-- + +_Duke_. Speake, woman. + +_Ju_. 'Tis very true. + +_Mon_. O monstrous forgerie! + +_Fre_. O more then falshood to become so smooth +In such a dangerous action! + +_Duke_. This is strange; +_Montano_ seeke the ruine of my daughter! + +_Euph_. Because I would not yeeld unto his suite, +Which he in rapefull manner oft hath sought, +Hee set this Gentleman to doe me shame +Intending by exclaimes[166] to raise the Court, +But that repentance in my waiting Maide +And of his sorrowfull selfe reveal'd the plot. + +_Mon_. O ye gods, how am I over-reacht! + +_Duke_. I know the yong man to be well discended, +Of civill carriage and approved faith, +How ere seduced to this enterprise. + +_Con_. My conscience, would not propagate that plot. + +_Ju_. Nor mine, my Lord, though gold corrupted me. + +_Mon_.--Cleane from the byas! wit, by heaven rare wit! +Ile tell another tale, if they have done. + +_Duke_. What canst thou speake, vild[167] traitor? +Thou seest thou art prevented in thy plot +And therefore desperately coin'st any thing, +But I am deafe to all such stratagems. + +_Mon_. Will you not heare me? + +_Duke_. Forgeries and lies. +My daughters honour is of that high prize +That I preferre it 'fore a traitors braine. +Let it suffice, we know she hath deni'd thee +And some denied (like devills) turne their love +Into excrutiation of themselves +And of the parties whom they have belov'd. +Revenge begins where flatteries doe end; +Being not her husband, thou wilt be no friend. +Thus is thy policy by heaven prevented: +Therefore henceforth we banish thee our Court; +Our Court? our territorie, every place +Wherein we beare the state of Royaltie. +Urge no replie, the fact is plainely prov'd, +And thou art hatefull where thou wert belov'd. + +_Mon_. My gracious Lord-- + +_Duke_. We can afford no grace: +Stay here, and reade thy ruine in my face. + +_Mon_. I goe contented with this heavy doome; +'Twas mine owne seeking. Faire and wise, adiew; +Deceit hath kil'd conceit, you know tis true. + [_Exit_.[168] + +_Fre_. An upright sentence of an act so vilde. + +_Duk_. Remove this waiting virgin from your chamber, +But let this gentleman attend on me. +The best may be deceiv'd by trecherie. + +_Euph_. Then so, my gracious father, may this maid. + +_Duke_. Then let her keep her place; beware of gold, +Honour's too precious to be baselie sold.-- +Now to our dying friend, his grace of _Meath_. +Daughter, prepare you; you shall ride along, +For to that end we came; come, sonne, to horse: +Ere we come there, our friend may prove a coarse. + +_Euph_.--Twas well done both, this action rarely fell; +Where women trie their wits, bad plots prove well. + + [_Exeunt omnes_. + + + +[SCENE 2.] + + + _Enter three Beggers_. + +1. Come away, fellow louse, thou art ever eating. + +2. Have I not neede, that must feede so many +_Cannibals_ as will waite on me whether I will or no? + +3. Heres one in my necke, I would 'twere on thy shoulder. + +1. Keepe it your selfe, I have retainers enow of mine owne. + +2. But whether are you going now? + +1. Why, are you our King, and doe not know that? + +2. Your King? I am a very roguish King and I hav a companie of lowsie +subjects. + + _Enter Hatto and Alfrid conferring_. + +2. But looke about my ragged subjects, here comes somebody. + +1. O the devills; shall we aske them an almes? + +2. Why not? now the rats have eaten up their brother Bishop they will +be more charitable; your vocation, you slaves. + +3. For the Lord sake, be pittifull to a companie of poore men. + +_Hatto_. What cry is this? beggars so neere the doore +Of our deceased brother? whip them hence +Or bring the Mastiffe foorth [to] worry them. +They are lazie drones, 'tis pittie such should live. + +1. I told you, my Lord, how we should find them; whip us! leade the way, +soveraigne, weele none of your whipping. + +_Hat_. Hence with these dogs! what make they neere this house? + +2. He will be eaten with rats too, he looks like a piece of cheese +alreadie. + +_Hat_. You Rogues. + +_Alf_. Good brother, stay your self from wrath; +Thinke on the Bishop and his odious death. + +_Hat_. What odious death, I pray? + +_Alf_. Eaten with Rats, +Whilest he was living, for the wrong he did +Unto the poore, the branches of our God. + +_Hat_. Tis true, and therefore, call the poore againe. +Come hither, friends, I did forget my selfe. +Pray for me, ther's some silver for thy wants. + +2. Now the Lord blesse you and keep your good face[169] from being +Mouse-eaten; wee came thinking wee should have some dole at the Bishops +funerall, but now this shall serve our turne, wee will pray for you +night and day. + +_Hat_. Goe to the backe-gate, and you shall have dole. + +_Om_. O the Lord save thee. + [_Exeunt Beggers_. + +_Hat_. These Beggers pray and curse both in a breath. +Oh wherefore should we fawne upon such curres, +The mice of mankind, and the scorne of earth? + +_Alf_. So said our brother. + +_Hat_. And he was a Bishop, +Had read the Scripture and knew what he said. + +_Alf_. But he hath bought[170] that saying with his death, +With such a loathsome and notorious death +As while the World's a World 'twill speake of _Meath_. + +_Hat_. The Lord Archbishop of _Meath_, and die by Rats! + +_Alf_. He did proclaime reliefe unto the poore; +Assembled them unto a private Barne +And, having lockt the doore, set it on fire, +Saying hee'de rid the countrie of such Mice; +And Mice and Rats have rid him from the World. + +_Hat_. Well, Ile not hurt the poore so publikely, +But privately I'le grinde their very hearts. +Torture them living, and yet have their prayers, +And by such meanes that few or none shall know it. + +_Al_. In such a course _Alfred_ would wind with you; +For though I counsail'd you to be more calme, +Twas not in pittie of their povertie +But to avoide their clamour. To give nothing +Will make them curse you: but to threaten them, +Flie in your face, and spit upon your beard. +No devill so fierce as a bread-wanting heart, +Especially being baited with ill tearmes. +But what course can you take to plague these dogges? + +_Hat_. Why, buy up all the corne and make a dearth, +So thousands of them will die under stalles. + +_Alf_. And send it unto forraine nations +To bring in toies to make the wealthy poore. + +_Hat_. Or make our land beare woad[171] instead of wheate. + +_Al_. Inclose the commons and make white meates deare. + +_Hat_. Turne pasture into Park grounds and starve cattle, +Or twentie other honest thriving courses. +The meanest of these will beggar halfe a Kingdome. + +_Al_. I have a commission drawne for making glasse. +Now if the Duke come, as I thinke he will, +Twill be an excellent meanes to lavish wood; +And then the cold will kill them, had they bread. + +_Hat_. The yron Mills are excellent for that. +I have a pattent[172] drawne to that effect; +If they goe up, downe goes the goodly trees; +Ile make them search the earth to find new fire. + +_Alf_. We two are brothers, and the Duke's our brother. +Shall we be brothers in Commission? +And Ile perswade him to authorize thee +His substitute in _Meath_, when he enjoyes it. + +_Hat_. Death, Ile get thee Regent under him +In _Saxonie_, to oppresse as well as I. +And we will share the profits, live like Kings, +And yet seeme liberall in common things. + +_Al_. Content: what, though the Rats devour'd our brother? +Was not a Prophet murdered by a Lyon? +King _Herod_ died of Lice, wormes doe eate us all; +The Rats are wormes, then let the Rats eate me. +Is the dead course prepar'd? + +_Hat_. Embalm'd and coffin'd; +The Citie keyes delivered to my hands; +We stay but onely for his Excellence. + + _Enter Constantine_. + +_Con_. The Duke is comming, if it please your honors. + +_Al_. And he is welcome; let the trumpets sound. + + [_Second florish_. + + _Enter Duke of Saxon, Euphrata, and Julia_. + +_Hat_. Welcome, thrice welcome, our renowned brother. +Loe, at thy feete the Cittizens of _Meath_, +By us their Agents, do lay downe the keyes, +And[173] by this crownet and sword resign'd +The state Maiestique to your Princely hands, +Discended to you by our brothers death. + +_Duke_. Then with your loves and persons we receive it.-- +Is then our brother the Archbishop dead? + +_Hat_. Too true, my Lord. + +_Euph_. I am sorry for my Uncle. + +_Hat_. And of a death so publique by reporte. + +_Al_. Devour'd by Rats, in strange and wonderous sort. + +_Duke_. Could not this palace seated in the _Rheine_, +In midst of the great River, (to the which +No bridge, nor convay, other then by boats +Was to be had,) free him from vermine Rats? + +_Alf_. Against their kind the land Rats took the water +And swomme in little armies to the house; +And, though we drown'd and kild innumerable, +Their numbers were like _Hydra's_ heads increasing; +Ruine bred more untill our brother died. + +_Duke_. The house is execrable; Ile not enter. + +_Hat_. You need not feare, my Lord; the house is free +From all resort of Rats; for at his death, +As if a trumpet sounded a retreat, +They made a kind of murmure and departed. + +_Duke_. Sure 'twas the hand of heaven, for his contempt +Of his poore creatures.--But what writs are those? + +_Hat_. Commissions (if it please your grace,) for glasse, +For yron Mines, and other needful things. + +_Duke_. Our selfe invested in the government, +The Cities care shall lie upon your care. + +_Hat. Alfred_ our brother may awaite your grace +In _Saxony_, so please you to command. + +_Duke_. We are now but three, and lately have bin seven, +We have cause to love each other; for my part, +Betweene you both we give a brothers heart. +Here or at _Saxonie_, command at pleasure; +I weare the corronet, be yours the treasure. + +_Al_. We thanke our brother. + +_Duke_. Where's my sonne _Fredericke_? + + _Enter Fredericke with a glove_. + +_Fre_. Father, the state of _Meath_ desire your grace +To take the paines to passe unto the Senate. + +_Duke_. What glove is that, son _Fred_., in your hand? + +_Fre_. I found it, if it please your Excellence, +Neere to the state-house: the imbroiderie +Is very excellent, and the fashion rare. + +_Duke_. I have not seene a prettier forme of hand. +Daughter, let's see; is't not too bigge for you? + +_Euph_. Sure 'tis some admirable worke of nature, +If it fit any hand that owes[174] this glove, +If all the rest doe parallel the hand. + +_Duke_. Will it not on? + +_Euph_. Not for a diadem; +Ile trie no longer lest I shame my selfe. + +_Duke_. Try, _Julia_. + +_Ju_. My hand's bigger then my Ladies. + +_Duke_. I cannot tell, but in my minde I feele +A wondrous passion of I know not what. + +_Fre_. The imbroidered glove may be some childs, no womans. + +_Duke_. I should mistrust as much, but that this place +Beares greater compasse then a childish hand. +I must command it. + +_Fre_. Willingly, my Lord. + +_Duke_. Then to the state-house, brothers, leade the way: +First our instalement [_sic_], then a funerall day. + + [_Exeunt Duke and brothers and Fred_. + + _Enter Otho_. + +_Otho_. Yonder she goes, the mirrour of her sexe.-- +Stay, beauteous _Euphrata_. + +_Euph. Otho_! what, _Julia_? + +_Ju_. Here, madam! what's your will? + +_Euph_. Call _Constantine_; +Tell him his deare friend _Otho_ is return'd. + +_Ju_. I will. + +_Otho_. Stay, _Julia_. + +_Euph_. Doe as I bid you, goe. [_Exit Julia_. + +_Otho_. I had rather have a word or twaine with you. + +_Euph_. I have heard him oft enquire for thee his friend, +I have heard him sigh, I have seene him weepe for thee, +Imagining some mischiefe or distresse +Had falne thee since the closets separation. + +_Otho_.--And what a slave am I to wrong this friend! + + _Enter Constantine and Julia_. + +_Con_. Where is he? + +_Ju_. Here. + +_Con_. The welcom'st man alive. +Unkind, how couldst thou stay from me so long? + +_Otho_. I have bin ill at ease, pray pardon me; +But I rejoyce to see my friend so well. + +_Euph_. Some Ladies love hath made him melancholy. + +_Otho_. Shee hath read the letter that I lately sent her +In a pomegranat, by those words I hope. + +_Con_. Why speake you not? is't love or melancholy? + +_Otho_. If upon love my grief is melancholy? + +_Con_. Ile have the best Phisitians here in _Meath_ +Assay by art to cure that maladie. + +_Euph_. Gainst mellancholy minds your onely Phisick +Our Saxon doctors hold that principle. +Now I remember you did lately send me +A choice pomegranate; fetch it, _Julia_. +Some of those graines well stir'd in _Gascoine_ wine +Is present remedie. + +_Otho_. Madam, Ile none: +Of all fruits, that I hate. + +_Euph_. And commended it +So highly by the messenger that brought it! + +_Con_. Twas well remembred, you shall take a graine. + +_Otho_. You will but vexe me. + +_Con_. So his melancholly +Doth make him froward with his dearest friend. + + _Enter Julia with the pomegranate_. + +Tis well done, _Julia_, quickely cut it up; +And bring a cup of wine, or let me doo't. + +_Otho_. I see I shall be plagu'd with mine owne wit; +Being asham'd to speake, I writ my minde.-- +Were you my friends, you would not martyr me +With needlesse phisicke; fie upon this trash, +The very sight is loathsome. + +_Con_. Take it up: +But let me see, what letter's that that dropt? +Came it from you, or from the _Spanish_ fruit? + +_Ju_. Tis all the graines that the pomegranate had. + +_Con_. Then theres some trechery within these graines: +Ile breake it up. +And tis directed to my _Euphrata_. + +_Euph_. What may the tenure be? I pray thee read it. + + [_He opens the letter & reads_. + +_Otho_. O fall upon me some wind-shaken turret +To hide me from the anger of my friend, +O from his frowne! because he is my friend. +Were he an enemie, I would be bold; +But kindnes makes this wound. O, this horror! +The words of friends, are stronger then their power. + +_Con_. Withdraw, good _Julia_. + [_Exit Julia_. + +_Euph_. Pray, what is it, love? + +_Con_. Tis love indeed to thee, but to my heart +Every loose sentence is a killing dart. +I brought this _Gyges_[175] to my hearts delight +And he hath drown'd his senses with the sight. +Except thy selfe, all things to him were free: +_Otho_, thou hast done me more then injurie; +Well maist thou fixe thy eye upon the earth, +This action sith[176] breedes a prodigious birth: +It is so monstrous, and against all kinde, +That the lights splendor would confound thy minde. + +_Otho_. I have offended, prethee pardon me. + +_Con_. What cause did move thee? + +_Otho_. Her all conquering sight. + +_Con_. Couldst thou usurpe upon my well known right? + +_Otho_. Thinke, I am flesh and blood, and she is faire. + +_Con_. Thinke how I love thee. + +_Otho_. There proceeds my care. + +_Con_. Our amitie hath bin of ancient dayes, +During which time wrong'd I thee any wayes? + +_Otho_. Never. + +_Con_. But rather I have done thee good. + +_Otho_. I grant you have, O rather shed my blood +Then number the kind deedes betweene us past. + +[_Con_.] For this unkindnesse, here I love my last. + +_Euph_. He doth repent, and will renounce his suite. + +_Otho_. I doe renounce it. + +_Con_. O thou canst not do't. + +_Otho_. Suffer me stay a while in her faire sight, +'Twill heal my wound and all love banish quite. + +_Con_. The sight of the belov'd makes the desire, +That burnt but slowly, flame like sparkling fire. +As thou dost love me, take thee to some place +Where thou maist nere see her, nor I thy face. + +_Otho_. By what is deere betwixt us, by our selves, +I vow hencefoorth ten thousand deaths to prove +Then be a hinderance to such vertuous love. + +_Con_. Breake heart, tis for thy sake. + +_Otho_. When I am dead +O then forget that I haue injured. + +_Con_. O hell of love! + +_Otho_. Or rather hell of friends! + +_Con_. Firmely till they love. + +_Otho_. Then thus all friendship ends. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + + +_Actus Secundus_. + +[SCENE 1.] + + + _Enter Duke, Fredericke, Hatto, and Alfred_. + +_Hat_. Good brother, heare some Musicke, twill delight you. + +_Al_. Ile call the Actors, will you see a play? + +_Fre_. Or, gracious father, see me runne the race +On a light footed horse, swifter then winde. + +_Duke_. I pray forbeare. + +_Al_. This moode will make you mad, +For melancholy ushers franticke thoughts. + +_Hat_. It makes hot wreaking blood turne cold and drie, +And drithe and coldnesse are the signes of death. + +_Duke_. You doe torment me. + +_Fred_. Is it anything +That I have done, offends your grace? + +_Hat_. Or comes this hidden anger from my fault? + +_Alf_. Heres none but gladly would resigne his life +To doe you pleasure, so please you to command. + +_Duke_. Ifaith you are too [_sic_] blame to vexe me thus. + +_Hat_. Then grounds this sorrow on your brothers death? + +_Fred_. Or rather on the glove I lately found. + +_Duke_. A plague upon the glove, whats that to me? +Your prating makes me almost lunatike. +As you respect my welfare, leave me leave me. +The sooner you depart, the sooner _I_ +Shall finde some meanes to cure my maladie. + +_Fred_. Our best course is to be obedient. + + [_Exeunt all but the Duke_. + +_Duke_. Farewell. +Was ever slave besotted like to me! +That Kings have lov'd those that they never saw +Is nothing strange, since they have heard their praise; +Birds that by painted grapes have bin deceiv'd +Had yet some shadow to excuse their error; +_Pigmalion_ that did love an Ivory Nimph +Had an _Idea_ to delight his sence; +The youth that doted on _Minerva's_[177] picture +Had some contentment for his eye; [_soft Musique_. +But love, or rather an infernall hagge, +Envying _Saxons_ greatnes and his joyes, +Hath given me nothing but a trifling glove, +As if by the proportion of the case +Art had the power to know the jewels nature. +Or Nimph, or goddesse, woman, or faire devill, +If anything thou art, within my braine +Draw thine owne picture, let me see thy face: +To doate thus grossely, is a grosse disgrace. [_Musique within_. +I heare some Musique: O ye Deities, +Send you this heavenly consort[178] from the spheares +To recreate a love-perplexed heart? +The more it sounds, the more it refresheth. +I see no instruments, nor hands that play; +And my deare brothers, durst not be so bold. +'Tis some celestiall rapture of the minde, +No earthlie harmonic is of this kinde. +Now it doth cease: speake, who comes there? + + _Enter Fredericke, Alfred, and Hatto_. + +_Fred_. Father. + +_Duke_. From whence proceeds the Musicke that I heard? + +_Fred_. The beauteous and the famous Curtezan, +Allyed unto the banished _Montano_, +Admir'd _Valentia_, with a troope of youths +This day doth keepe her yeerely festivall +To all her suters, and this way she past +Unto her Arbor, when the Musique plaide. + +_Duke_. Admir'd _Valentia_! Curtezans are strange +With us in _Germanie_; except her selfe, +Being a _Venetian_ borne and priviledg'd, +The state allowes none here. + +_Fred_. Twere good for _Meath_ +She were unpriviledgd and sent to _Venice_. + +_Al_. Of all the faces that mine eye beheld +Hers is the brightest. + +_Duke_. Is she then so faire? + +_Hat_. O beyond all comparison of beautie. + +_Fred_. Upon her hand, +Father, I saw the fellow to your glove. + +_Duke_. Then let it be restor'd. +What, should a Prince retaine a strumpets glove?-- +O ye eternall powers, am I insnar'd +With the affection of a common trull!-- +Wheres your commissions, that you would have sign'd? +'Tis time I had a president in _Saxonie_. +Receive our signet, and impresse them straight; +Ile remaine here, in _Meath_, some little time. +Brother, have care my Dukedome be well rul'd; +Here I put over my affaires to you. +My sonne I leave unto the joyes of youth; +Tis pittie that his minde should be opprest +So soone with care of governments. +Goe to your pleasures, seeke your sister foorth, +Send _Constantine_ to us; so leave me all, +I am best accompanied with none at all. [_Exeunt_. + _Manet Duke_. +Either the Plannets, that did meete together +In the grand consultation of my birth, +Were opposite to every good infusion, +Or onely _Venus_ stood as retrograde; +For, but in love of this none-loving trull, +I have beene fortunate even since my birth. +I feele within my breast a searching fire +Which doth ascend the engine of my braine, +And when I seeke by reason to suppresse +The heate it gives, the greaters the excesse. +I loath to looke upon a common lip +Were it as corral as _Aurora's_ cheeke +Died with the faire virmillion [of the] sunne. +O but I love her, and they say she is faire.-- +Now _Constantine_. + + _Enter Constantine_. + +_Con_. Your grace did send for me. + +_Duke_. Lend me your habit in exchange of mine, +For I must walk the Citie for a purpose. + +_Con_. With all my heart, my habit and my selfe. + +_Duke_. In any case, watch at the privie chamber. +If any ask for me say I am not well, +And though it be my sonne, let him not enter. + +_Con_. I will. + +_Duke_. Be carefull, gentle _Constantine_. +Now, faire _Valentia, Saxon_ to thy bower +Comes like a _Jove_ to raine a golden shower. + [_Exit_. + +_Con_. Prosper, kind Lord, what ere the action be; +Counsailes of Princes should be ever free. + + [_Exit_. + + + +[SCENE 2.] + + + _Enter Valentia and Montano_. + +_Va_. Torches and Musique there! the room's too darke. + +_Mon_. Prethee, Neece, +Abandon this lascivious unchaste life; +It is the onely blemish of our house; +Scandall unto our name; a Curtezan! +O what's more odious in the eares of men? + +_Val_. Then why doe men resort to Curtezans, +And the best sort? I scorne inferiour groomes, +Nor will I deign[179] to draw aside my maske +To any meaner then a Noble man. +Come,[180] can you dance? a caper and a kisse: +For every turne Ile fold thee in my armes, +And if thou fal'st, although[181] a-kin we be +That thou maist fall[182] soft, Ile fall under thee. +Oh for the lightnesse of all light heel'd girles, +And I would touch the Ceeling with my lips! +Why art thou sad, _Montano_? + +_Mon_. On just cause, +You know I am banish't from my natiue countrey. + +_Val_. This citie is _Meath_, thou art of _Saxonie_. + +_Mon_. But this belongs unto the _Saxons_ Duke, +By the decease of the departed Bishop. + +_Val_. Feare not, thou art as safe within my house +As if perculliz'd in a wall of brasse. +Wheres _Vandermas_? + + _Enter Vandermas_. + +_Van_. Madam, did you call? + +_Mon_. What noble man is that, a sutor to you? + +_Val_. An excellent Pander, a rare doore-keeper.[183] + +_Mon_. I had thought he had bin a gentleman at least. + +_Val_. Because of his attire? + +_Mon_. True. + +_Val_. O the attire +In these corrupted daies is no true signe +To shew the gentleman; peasants now weare robes, +In the habilments of noblemen. +The world's grown naught, such judgement then is base, +For Hares and Asses weare the lion's case.[184] + +_Mon_. 'Tis very costly and exceeding rich. + +_Val_. Ritches to me are like trash to the poore, +I have them in abundance; gold's my slave, +I keep him prisoner in a three-fold chest +And yet his kindred daily visit me. + +_Mon_. Lord, how diligent +Is this rich clothed fellow. + +_Val_. Were he proud +And should but dare to stand still when I call, +I'de run him th[o]rough with a killing frowne. + +_Mon_. Why then belike his service is for love. + +_Val_. Why so are all the servants that attend mee. +They keepe themselves in satin, velvets, gold, +At their owne charges, and are diligent +Daies, moneths, and yeeres, to gaine an amorous smile. +Looke on my face with an indifferent eye, +And thou shalt finde more musicke in my lookes +Then in _Amphions_ Lute or _Orpheus_ Harpe; +Mine eye consists of numbers like the soule, +And if there be a soule tis in mine ey; +For, of the harmony these bright starres make, +I comprehend the formes of all the world; +The story of the Syrens in my voyce +I onely verified, for Millions stand +Inchanted when I speake, and catch my words +As they were orient pearle to adorn their eares; +_Circe_ is but a fable, I transforme +The vertuous, valiant, and the most precise, +Into what forme of minde my fancie please. +Thou might'st bee proud, great Lord, of my abundance, +For in this beautie I shall more renowne +Our noble progenie then all the pennes +Of the best Poets that ere writ of men. +Unto your health a health! let Musique sound, [_Musick_. +That what I taste in Musique may be drown'd. +So fill more wine, we use to drinke up all; +Wine makes good blood and cheeres the heart withal. + +_Van_. Madam, at such time as I heard you call, +A gentleman, it seemes of good discent, +Humblie did crave accesse unto your honor. + +_Valen_. What did he give? + +_Van_. A brace of bags of gold. + +_Valen_. He shall have libertie to enter straight. +But first inrich the chamber with perfumes; +Burne choice _Arabian_ Drugs more deare then +Waters distil'd out of the spirit of Flowers; +And spread our costly Arras to the eye. +Myself sufficiently doe shine in jems; +Where such faire coated Heraulds doe proceed, +It seemes he is honorable and of noble fame. + +_Mon_. Shall I behold this sutor? + +_Valen_. At the full, +At pleasure passe through every spacious Roome. +Be he a Prince, Ile know his high discent +Or proudly scorne to give him his content. +What drum is that? + +_Van_. A Maske, sent by a friend. + +_Valen_. Belike our self must know the mysterie; +Tell them we are prepar'd to see the Maske, +And bid the other noblemen come neere. +Thus am I hourely visited by friends; +Beautie's a counsellor that wants no fee. +They talke of circles and of powerfull spells, +Heeres heavenly art that all blacke art excells. + +_Mon_. Ile walke into the farther gallery. + + _Enter Duke_. + +_Valen_. Sir, you are welcome what so ere you be; +I guesse your birth great by your bounteous fee. + +_Duke_. Your humble servant, bound by a sweet kisse. + +_Valen_. I give you freedome, gentle Sir, by this. + [_He whispers her_. +I know your mind; first censure of the sport, +Then you and I will enter _Venus_ Court. + +_Duke_. More then immortall, O more then divine, +That such perfection, should turne Concubine. + +_Mon_. That voice is like unto the _Saxon Dukes_. +I feare he hath heard I liv'd here in this place, +And he is come to doe me more disgrace. +_Montano_, hide thyself till he be gone; +His daughter thirsts for my destruction. + [_Exit Mont_. + +_Val_. Come sit by me, the Maskers are at hand. + + _Enter Maske_. + +Where are my Maides, to helpe to make the dance? + + _Enter 2 Maids. + + They dance, Valentia with them; they whisper to have + her play at dice and stake on the drum_. + +_Valen_. What, shall we have a Mumming? heres my Jewell. + + [_Play on the drum head_. + +_Duke_. Thou art a jewell most incomparable.-- +Malicious heaven, why from so sweete a face +Have you exempt the mind adorning grace? + + [_They stake and play_. + + _She wins, the drum strikes up_. + +_Val_. More gold, for this is mine, I thanke yee, dice. + +_Duke_. And so are all that doe behold thy beautie.-- +Were she as chaste, as she is outward bright, +Earth would be heaven, and heaven eternal night. +The more I drinke of her delicious eye, +The more I plunge into captivitie. + + _She wins, strike up_. + +_Valen_. Have I wonne all? then take that back agen. +What, scorne my gift? I see you are a gentleman. +No, is't not possible that I may know +Unto whose kindnesse this great debt I owe? +Well, Ile not be importunate, farewell; +Some of your gold let the torch-bearers tell. + +_Duke_. Beautious _Madona_, do you know these galants? + +_Valen_. I guesse them of the Duke of _Saxons_ Court. + +_Duke_.--My subjects, and so many my corrivalls +O every slave is grac't before his Prince. + +_Valen_. Are you not well sir, that your colour failes? + +_Duke_. If I be sicke, 'tis onely in the minde: +To see so faire, so common to all kinde; +I am growne jealous now of all the world.-- +Lady, how ere you prize me, without pleasure +More then a kisse, I tender you this treasure; +O what's a mint spent in such desire +But like a sparke that makes a greater fire?-- +She must be made my Dutches, there it goes; +And marrying her, I marry thousand woes.-- +Adiew, kind Mistresse;--the next newes you heare +Is to sit crown'd in an Imperiall chair.[185] + +_Valen_. Either the man dislikes me, or his braine +Is not his owne, to give such gifts in vaine, +But 'tis the custome in this age to cast +Gold upon gold, to encourage men to waste. +Lightly it comes, and it shall lightly flie; +Whilst colours hold, such presents cannot die. + + [_Exeunt omnes_.[186] + + + +[SCENE 3.] + + + _Enter Reinaldo, Alfred, and Albert_. + +_Alb_. But this is strange, that I should meet your[187] honour +So farre from Court; pray whither were you riding? + +_Alf_. Unto your mannor; heard you not the newes? + +_Alb_. What newes? + +_Alf_. This morning, by the breake of day, +His excellence sent to me by a post +Letters, by which the pillars of the state +Should be assembled to a Parliament, +Which he intends, my Lords, to hold in _Meath_. + +_Alb_. When, if it please your honor? + +_Alf_. Instantly, +With all the haste that winged time can make. + +_Albert_. Sooner the better; tis like the realmes affaires +Are of some weight. + +_Alb_. I will bee there to night, +And so I take my leave. + +_Reinal_. We take our leaves. + + [_Exit Albert and Reinaldo_. + +_Alf_. Farewell, my honor'd friend.-- +There is within my braine a thousand wiles +How I may heape up riches; O the sight, +Of a gold shining Mountaine doth exceede: +Silver is good, but in respect of gold +Thus I esteeme it. + + [_Exit_. + + + +[SCENE 4.] + + + _Enter Hatto, with three petitioners_. + +_Hat_. How now, my friends, what are you? + +1. Poore petitioners. + +_Hat_. Stand farther then, the poore is as unpleasing +Unto me as the plague. + +2. An't please your good Lordship, I am a Merchant, and gladly would +convay a thousand quarters of wheate and other graine over the sea; and +heres a hundred pounds for a commission. + +_Hat_. Thou art no beggar, thou shalt ha't, my friend; +Give me thy money. + +3. I, an't please your honour, have a commoditie of good broad cloth, +not past two hundred; may I shippe them over? and theres a hundred +poundes. + +_Hat_. Thou shalt have leave. + +1. Although I seeme a poore petitioner, +My Lord, I crave a warrant to transport[188] +A hundred Cannons, fiftie Culverings, +With some slight armours, halberts, and halfe pikes; +And theres as much as any of the rest. + +_Hat_. Away, _Cannibal_! wouldst thou ship ordnance? +What though we send unto the foes our corne +To fatten them, and cloth to keepe them warme, +Lets not be so forgetfull of our selves +As to provide them with knives to cut our throates: +So I should arme a thiefe to take my purse. +Hast thou no other course of Merchandize? +Thou shouldst get gold, twill yeeld thee ten in the hundred +On bare exchange, and raise the price with us; +Make us for want coyn brasse and passe it currant +Untill we find profit to call it in. +There are a thousand waies to make thee thrive +And Ile allow of all, bee it nere so bad, +Excepting guns to batter downe our houses. + +1. Letters[189] of Mart I humblie then intreate, +To cease on Rovers that doe secure the seas. + +_Hat_. And on our friends too, if thou canst do't cleanlie. +Spare none, but passe it very closely; +We will be loath to sift thy Piracie, +But open eare to heare what they [thou?] complaine. +Hast thou a Letter? + +1. Ready drawne my Lord. +And heres a brace of hundred pounds for you. + +_Hat_. 'Tis very well; I thinke I shall be rich +If dayly tenants pay me rent thus fast. +Give me your licenses, they shall bee seal'd. +About an houre hence, here attend our pleasure. + +_Omnes_. We thanke your Lordship. + [_Exeunt petiti_. + +_Hat_. O vild catterpillers, +And yet how necassarie for my turne! +I have the Dukes seale for the Citie _Meath_, +With which Ile signe their warrants. +This corne and twentie times as much +Alreadie covertly convai'd to _France_, +And other bordering Kingdomes neere the sea, +Cannot but make a famine in this land; +And then the poore, like dogs, will die apace. +Ile seeme to pittie them, and give them almes +To blind the world; 'tis excellent policie +To rid the land of such, by such device. +A famine to the poore is like a frost +Unto the earth, which kills the paltry wormes +That would destroy the harvest of the spring. +As for the which, I count them painefull men +Worthy to enjoy what they can get: +Beggars are trash, and I esteeme them so; +Starve, hang, or drowne themselves, I am alive; +Loose all the world, so I have wit to thrive. +But I must to the Parliment, and then +Ile have a clause to beggar some rich men. + + [_Exit_. + + + + +_Actus Tertius_. + +[SCENE 1.] + + + _Enter Duke, Fredericke, Constantine, Reinaldo, + Alberto, Alfrid, and amongst them Hatto shuffles in_. + +_Alberto_. Princes and pillars of the _Saxon_ State. + +_Duke_. You are the elected, speake for the Court.-- +Stay, Lord _Alberto_, we usurpe your office: +Who had the charge to fetch _Valentia_? + +_Con_. I, gracious Lord; and when I gave the charge, +A sudden feare, by palenesse, was displai'd +Upon her rosie cheeke; the crimson blood, +That like a robe of state did beautifie +The goodly buildings with a two fold grace, +From either side shrunke downewards to her heart +As if those summons were an adversarie +And had some mighty crime to charge her with. +Millions of thoughts were crowded in her braines: +Her troubled minde her abrupt words describ'd; +She did accuse her selfe without accusers, +And in the terrour of a soule perplext +Cry'd out, 'the Duke intends to cease my goods +Cause I am noted for a Concubine.' +I did replie such comfort as beseemes, +But comfortlesse I brought her to the Court. + +_Duke_. Then she attends our pleasure. + +_Con_. Mightie Lord, +In the next Roome. + +_Duke_. You are careful, _Constantine_. +Conduct her in, and, Lords, give mee your thoughts: +What thinke ye wee intend to _Valentia_? + +_Alf_. Her selfe hath read my sentence in the speech +That _Constantine_ delivered to your grace. + +_Fred_. What should my noble father thinke +But that she is a strumpet, and in that +A blemish to the state wherein she lives? + +_Hat_. She is rich in jewells, and hath store of treasure +Got by the slavery of that choice beautie +Which otherwise admires her to the world. + +_Alb_. Confiscate all her goods unto the Crown, +Thereby disburdening many heavie taxes +Impos'd upon the commons of the land. + +_Hat_. Publique example make her to all such; +Offences in that kind are growne too common, +Lesse shamelesse never[190] were the beautious dames +Of _Meath_ and _Saxony_ then[191] the sufferance +Hath at this instant made them: good my Lord, +Enact some mighty penaltie for lust. + +_Duke_. How wide these Archers shoote of the faire aime +Of my affection! Bring _Valentia_ in. + + _Enter Valentia, usher'd by Constantine_. + +_Valen_. The duetie that in generall I doe owe +Unto your excellence and to this Court, +I pay at once upon my bended knee. + +_Duke_. Behold her, Princes, with impartiall eyes, +And tell me, looks she not exceeding faire? + +_Hat_. If that her mind coher'd with her faire face, +Shee were the worthy wonder of this age. + +_Alfred_. I never saw a beautie more divine +Grossely deform'd by her notorious lust. + +_Fred_. Fairnesse and wantonnesse have made a match +To dwell together, and the worst spoyles both. + +_Albert_. Shee is doubly excellent in sin and beauty. + +_Duke_. That they speake truth my conscience speaks, +But that I love her that I speak my self. +Stand up, divine deformitie of nature, +Beautious corruption, heavenly see[m]ing evill, +What's excellent in good and bad, stand up; +And in this Chaire, prepared for a Duke, +Sit, my bright Dutchesse, I command thee, sit. +You looke, I am sure, for some apologie +In this rash action; all that I can say +Is that I love her, and wil marry her. + +_Fred_. How, love a _Lais_, a base _Rodophe_, +Whose body is as common as the sea +In the receipt of every lustfull spring? + +_Albert_. The elements of which these orbes consists, +Fire, ayre, and water, with the ground[192] we tread, +Are not more vulgar, common, popular, +Then her imbracements. + +_Alberto_. To incheyne the thoughts +Unto this semblance[193] of lascivious love +Were to be married to the broad rode[194] way +Which doth receiue the impression of every kind. + +_Fred_. Speech doth want modesty to set her forth +In her true forme, base and contemptible; +The very hindes and peasants of the land +Will bee Corrivals with your excellence +If you espouse such a notorious Trull. + +_Albert_. We shall have lust a virtue in the Court, +The wayes of sinne be furthered by reward, +Panders and Parasites sit in the places +Of the wise Counsellors and hurry all. + +_Fred_. Father, as you are princely in your birth, +Famous in your estate, belov'd of all, +And (which ads greatest glory to your greatnesse,) +Esteemed[195] wise, shew not such open[196] folly +Such palpable, such grosse, such mountaine folly; +Be not the By-word of your neighbour Kings, +The scandall of your Subjects, and the triumph +Of _Lenos, Macrios_,[197] and the hatefull stewes. +Why speake you not, that are his brother friends, +You that doe weare the Liveries of time, +The silver cognizance of gravitie? +Shall none but young me schoole the reverent [_sic_] old? +Birds teach the Dam, stars fill the glorious spheares +Of the all lightning Sunne? speake whilst you may, +Or this rash deede will make a fatall day. + +_Duke_. You have said too much, encourage none to speake +More then have spoke[n]; by my royall blood, +My mind's establisht, not to be withstood. +Those that applaud my choyse give us your hands, +And helpe to tye these sacred nuptiall bands. + +_Hat_. What likes your excellence, likes me well. + +_Alfred_. And I agree to what my Soveraigne please. + +_Fred_. These are no brothers, they are flatterers, +Contrary to themselves in their owne speech. +You that doe love the honour of your Prince, +The care and long life of my father, +The hereditary right deriv'd to me, +Your countries Welfare, and your owne renowne, +Lend me your hands to plucke her from the throne. + +_Valen_. Princes, forbeare, I doe not seeke the match; +It is his highnesse pleasure I sit here, +And if he love me 'tis no fault of mine. +Behoves me to be thankefull to his Grace, +And strive in virtue to deserve this place. + +_Duke_. Thou speak'st too mildly to these hare braind youthes. +He that presumes to plucke her from the chaire +Dyes in the attempt, this sword shall end all care. + +_Fred_. Why, shee's notorious. + +_Duke_. But she will amend. + +_Fred_. 'Tis too farre growne to have a happy end. + +_Duke_. The dangerous the disease, greater's the cure. + +_Fred_. Princes may seeke renowne by wayes more sure, +Shee is dishonest. + +_Duke_. Honestie's unseene; +Shee's faire, and therefore fit to be a Queene. + +_Fred_. But vertue is to be preferd ere lust. + +_Duke_. Those that are once false, shall we ne're trust? + +_Fred_. Wise men approve their actions by the tryall. + +_Duke_. I say she is mine in spight of all deniall; +Bring me the Crowne. + +_Fred_. To set upon her head? +Friends, draw your swords, first strike the strumpet dead. + +_Duke_. My guard, my guard! + +_Alfred_. For shame, put up your swords. + +_Fred_. For shame, great Rulers, leave your flattering words. + +_Albert_. 'Tis madnesse in the King and worse in you. + +_Hat_. Though you prove traytors, we'll not prove untrue. + +_Fred_. Will you dismisse this Strumpet to the stewes, +Or our allegance in this act refuse? + +_Duke_. Doe what you dare, the election still shall stand. + +_Fred_. Woe and destruction then must rule the land. +Come, Lord _Rinaldo_, valiant _Alberto_, come; +We have friends enough to grace a warlike Drum. [_A shout within_. +Hearke how the Commons doe applaud our cause. +Lascivious Duke, farewell, father, oh vilde! +Where Queanes are mothers, _Fredericke_ is no child. + + [_Exeunt_. + +_Duke_. My guard pursue them, and alive or dead +Cut off the cause by which these cries are bred. +Come, my faire Dutchesse; first unto the Church, +There sollemnize our nuptials; then unto our armes: +A little rough breath overbeares these stormes. + + [_Exeunt. Manet Alfred & Hatto_. + +_Alfred_. The Duke's besotted. Now we are secure; +This match makes well for us; we may command +And on them lay the abuses of the land. + +_Hat_. Excellent good; we are like to have warres indeed, +But in the meane the poore will starve for bread. +Wee must share proffits, howsoere things goe. +Winner or looser, neither is our foe; +For mutually we'll beare our selues in all +Or taking part leane to the strongest wall. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +[SCENE 2.] + + + _Enter Constantine and Euphrata_. + +_Euph_. My father married to a Concubine! +Then he will pardon though I marry thee; +And howsoe'r, about it presently, +The rather for _Montano_ is repealde, +Because of his alliance to _Valentia_. + +_Con_. I am ready, gentle love, and glad in mind +That my faire _Euphrata_ will prove so kind. + +_Euph_. Come my deare _Constantine_, performe this right [_sic_], +And arme in arme thus will we sleepe to night. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +[SCENE 3.] + + + _Enter Fredericke, Rinaldo, and Alberto, with Drum, + Colours, and Souldiers_. + +_Fred_. You that are carefull of your countries weale, +Fellow compere, Supporter of the State, +Let us imbrace in steele, our cause is good. +What minde so base that would not shed his blood +To free his countrey from so great an ill +As now raignes in it by lascivious will? +Our[198] friends to warre and, for my part, +Ere lust beare sway, Ile gladly yeeld my heart. + +_Alberto_. I heare the Duke is strong. + +_Fred_. Suppose him so, +And be advis'd strongly to meete the foe. +I had rather, you should think him ten thousand strong +Then find it so to our destruction. +An enemy thought many and found few, +When our first courage failes, gives us a new. + + [_Alarum_. + +_Alberto_. That's the Dukes Drum. + +_Fred_. They are welcome to their death, +The ground they tread on covers them with earth. + + [_Exeunt_. + + _Enter Fredericke and Duke severall_. + +_Fred_. The enemy sends forth a Champion +To encounter me, I heard him use my name; +The honour of the combate shall be mine. + +_Duke_. Come, boy, retreate not, only I intend +With thy lifes losse this bloody warre to end. + +_Fred_. My naturall father in my blood I feele, +Passion more powerfull then that conquering steele. + +_Duke_. Why dost thou pause, base boy? thy Soveraigne's come, +To inter the life I gave thee in this tombe. + +_Fred_. My father, oh my father! nature, be still +That I may have my fame, or he his will. + +_Duke_. What, dost thou feare thy cause? is't now so evill? + +_Fred_. I am possest with a relenting devill; +Legions of kinde thoughts have supriz'd my sense +And I am too weake to be mine owne defence. + +_Duke_. Thou art a coward. + +_Fred_. And you make me so, +For you come charm'd like a dishonest[199] foe. +You have conferr'd with spirits, and tane their aydes +To make me weake, by them I am betraid, +My strength drawne from me by a slight; +What other meanes could hold me from the fight? + +_Duke_. I have no spells about me. + +_Fred_. 'Tis untrue, +For naturall Magique you have brought with you, +And such an exorcisme in your name +That I forbeare the combate to my shame. +But that I am no coward, from your host +Elect two of the valiantst that dare most; +Double that number, treble it, or more, +I have heart at will t'encounter with a score. +Or had your selfe come in a strange attire, +One of us twaine had lost his living fire. + + _Enter[200] Montano, Alfred, Vandermas, Valentia, and others_. + +_Duke_. Ile trie your valour; see, audacious boy, +Thou art incompast with a world of foes +_Montano, Alfred, Vandermas_, and all: +My Dutchesse comes, too, to behold thy fall. +If thou hast spirit enough, now crave her ayd, +Never was poore ventrous souldier worse apayd. + [_Exit Duke_. + +_Fred_. My[201] desire now from the skie of starres. +Dart all your Deitie, since I am beset, +In honourable wise pay[202] all Natures debt. + + _They fight, Fredericke beats them off and courses + the Dutchesse over the stage_. + + + + +_Actus Quartus_. + +[SCENE 1.] + + + _Enter [at one door] Duke, Montano, Valentia, Hatto, and Alfred. + + Drumme, Colours, and Souldiers. [At another door + enter Frederick, Rinaldo, Alberto, with soldiers_.] + +_Duke_. Our anger long agoe, renowned Lords, +Is satisfied in faire _Valentias_ love. +Behold our proud sonne and these traiterous crew +That dares confront us in the field of _Mars_. + +_Valen_. You have been too patient, my beloved Lord, +In calming these tumultuous jarring spirits. +Scourge them with steele, and make the proudest know +Tis more then death to have their Prince their foe. + +_Mon_. Bloody constraints beseemes where dutie failes, +And, oratory ceasing, force prevailes. + +_Hat_. Peace would doe better, so it pleas'd your sonne. + +_Fred_. In her allurements first [the strife] begun; +Banish her from the land, and Ile resigne. + +_Duke_. Learne thine owne dutie, traitor, I know mine. + +_Albert_. Then there's no banishment? + +_Duke_. None but by death; +Thy head is forfeit for that daring breath. + +_Alfred_. Submit, degenerate and presumptuous Lord. + +_Albert_. When we are ignorant to weild a sword. + +_Fred_. Never shall noble knee bend to this ground, +As long as that vile strumpet liveth crownd. + +_Duke_. I cannot stay to heare my love deprav'd. +In few words is it peace, or shall we fight +Till our deepe wounds shall dampe the heavenly light, +Make the ayre purple with the reaking gore? + +_Fre_. Fight, whilst life serves you, we will nere give ore; +The grasse greene pavement shall be drownd in blood, +And yet Ile wade to kill her in the flood. + +_Duke_. Alarum, Drum! madnesse is on their side, +All vertuous counsell is by them defied. +Upon our part strike Drums, Trumpets proclaime +Death most assur'd to those that love their shame. + + _Alarum, fight lustily, and drive away the Duke; + Fredericke pursues Valentia over the stage and + takes her; a Retreate sounded_. + + _Enter at one doore the Duke, Mon., Hatto, and + Alfred, with Drum and Colours.--Enter at the + other doore Fredericke leading Valentia prisoner, + Rinaldo and Alberto with Drum and Colours_. + +_Duke_. Why doe traitors sound retreate so soone? + +_Fred_. Behold the cause. + +_Duke_. _Valentia_ prisoner? + +_Fred_. The firebrand of this tumultuous warre, +The originall from whence your subjects bloud +Flowes in abundance on[203] this spatious playn. + +_Valen_. And what of all this? + +_Fred_. That thy lifes too meane +To satisfie the unworthiest of the Campe +For the effusion of a loyall drop. + +_Duke_. Meanes _Fredericke_ then, to kill his fathers heart In faire +_Valentia's_ death? + +_Fred_. Not touch your hand, +Other then humble as becomes a sonne; +But she shall suffer for enchanting you. + +_Valen_. I am a Dutchesse, set my ransome downe. + +_Fred_. A Dutchesse! whence proceeds that borowed name? +Of what continuance? scarcely hath the Sunne +Beheld thy pride a day, but doth decline +Shaming to view a crowned Concubine. + +_Duke_. In mine owne honour, _Fredericke_, I command +Thou set a ransome on _Valentia_. + +_Fred_. What honor's that? your Dukedomes interest? +Your princely birth? your honerable fame? +All these are blemisht with a strumpets name. + +_Mon_. Be not so cruell to bereave her life +'Twill draw upon thee a perpetuall scar,-- +Thy fathers curse, and a continuall warre. + +_Duke_. Oh doe not threaten; _Fredericke_ is so mild +He will not prove such a degenerate child. +I cannot blame him tho' hee rise in armes: +'Twas not in hate to me, but in disdaine +That I should sell my royaltie so vaine; +But did he know the value of the jem, +Hee would not crase[204] it for a Dyadem. +That shee was common her owne words approve, +But many faults are cover'd where men love. +As thou respects my blessing and good dayes, +Restore her, _Fredericke_, and augment her prayse. + +_Fred_. Restore her? + +_Albert_. Never. + +_Duke_. _Albert_, thou wert kind +And I ne're wrong'd thee; doe not change thy minde. + +_Hat_. You doe abase your honour to intreate. + +_Duke_. How can I choose? my affection is so great. + +_Alfred_. Your power is strong, the enemy is but weake. + +_Duke_. In her destruction all my powers will breake. +As thou dost hope of kindnesse in thy choyse +If ere thou love, give eare unto my voice; +Turne not aside thy eye, the feares I feele +Makes me to bow, where tis thy part to kneele. +Loe vassailelike, laying aside command, +I humbly crave this favour at thy hand: +Let me have my beloved, and take my state; +My life I undervalue to that rate. +Crave anything that in my power doth lye, +Tis thine, so faire _Valentia_ may not dye. + +_Fred_. My soule is griev'd, and it appals my blood +To see my father pusseld in such mood. +Yet shall shee dye, Ile doe as I have said; +With mine hand Ile chop off the Strumpets head. + +_Alberto_. Kill her, my Lord, or let me have the honour. + +_Duke_. Tigers would save her, if they lookt upon her; +Shee is so beautifull, so heavenly bright, +That she would make them love her for the sight. +Thou art more rude then such if thou proceede +In the execution of so vilde a deede. +Remember one thing, I did never love +Till thou, my _Fredericke_, broughtst that fatall Glove. +That and the Owners name thou didst descry; +Onely for that cause, let not my love dye. + +_Fred_. O gods! + +_Duke_. Cannot my kneeling serve, my teares prevaile, +When all helpes faile mee, yet this will not faile: +Proffer thy weapon to her beautious side, +And with her heart my heart I will divide. +Intreaty Ile urge none more then are past, +And either now relent or heres my last. + +_Fred_. Stay: if I should relent, will you agree +To sign our general pardon presently? + +_Duke_. By heaven I doe, I freely pardon all +And a reward I give in generall. + +_Fred_. Then take her, you deserve her were shee better, +Making your Crown and life to be her Debter. + +_Duke_. Welcome a thousand times, welcome, sweete wife, +Never more deare then now I have saved[205] thy life. + +_Valen_. This more then kindnesse I turne backe to you, +Doubling my chast vow to bee ever true. + +_Fred_. Then here the warres end, here[206] our fightings marde, +Yet by your leave Ile stand upon my Guard. + +_Duke_. Take any course you please, Citie or Towne, +My royall word Ile keepe by this my Crowne. + +_Fred_. Then thus Ile take my leave. + +_Duke_. Since we must part, +Farewell, my Sonne, all farewell with my heart. + + [_Exeunt Fred, and his [sic]_. + +_Mon_. Twas well, my Lord, 'twas a good policie, +To gaine your bride: I hope your grace did not meane +To be thus overrulde, by a proud Sonne. + +_Duke_. Why, thinke you he intends some treachery? + +_Mon_. Why not? and did release _Valentia_ +To blind your eyes. Hee that could be so proud, +To rise in armes against his naturall Father, +Hath courage to doe more when he sees time. + +_Duke_. But I have pardon'd that offence by oath. + +_Mon_. It were no periury to make him know +Hee is your Sonne, and sonnes a dutie owe. +This sequestration will in time aspire +Unto a flame shall set your Realme on fire; +For[207] when a Subject hath the meanes of will, +'Tis not enough, to say he has no will; +For will is alter'd by the place and time +And hee that's once up knowes the way to clime. +I speake perchance like a prophetique foole, +But these are wise can counsaile with your bride; +Wisedome adviseth timely to provide. + +_Duke_. What thinkes my love of _Frederickes_ reconcilment? + +_Valen_. That he has spirit enough, to be a traytor. +But I am beholding to him for a life +And he may brag he gave your grace a wife. +A [O?] good old man, he could not choose but feele +For shame some small remorse to see you kneele. +Pray God he gave me not into your hand +That he might be the ruine of your land. + +_Duke_. Thinkes my love so? but, brothers, what's your censure? + +_Hat_. I am no Polititian. + +_Alfred_. Neither I: +Wee are both content to live quietly. + +_Duke_. Hee may be a villaine tho' he be my Sonne. + +_Mon_. Why not? and worke your ruine like a foe. +Had he meant well, why did he leave you so? +Your noble heart was free from all deceipt, +But hee's retirde to doe some dangerous feate. +When Subjects stand upon their guard, looke to't, +They have some plot in hand, and they will do't. + +_Duke_. What course is readiest to prevent such mischiefe? + +_Mon_. Plucke up the fulsome thistle in the prime: +Young trees bend lightly, but grow strong in time. +Were I the worthiest to advise your honour, +You should pursue him with your spredding bandes +Swifter in march then is the lightning flame, +And take him tardy whilst his plots are tame. +Now to charge on his army, questionlesse +Would drive them all into a great distresse, +If not confound them; having tane your Sonne, +You may be as kind, and doe as hee hath done; +So shall he know himself and be lesse proud. + +_Valen_. The counsailes good. + +_Duke_. And it shall be allowed. +You that doe love me, see the host prepar'd +To scare those traytors that our liues have scarde. +Our armie's many, but their power is few:[208] +Besides, they are traytors, all with us are true. +Sound Drums and trumpets, make the world rebound; +Hearten our friends, and all our foes confound. + [_Alarum_. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +[SCENE 2.] + + + _Enter Montano, with two or three souldiers; + Vandarmas leading Fredericke bound_. + +_Fred_. Base cowards, traytors! how am I surprizde, +[Bound] with these bonds? I am a Prince by birth, +And princely spirits disdaine such clogs of earth. +Let goe, you slaves. + +_Mon_. First know your fathers pleasure. + +_Fred_. You are too bold. + +_Mon_. But you shall keepe a measure. + +_Fred_. Thou blood of common Concubines, must I +Be bound by thee, and heir of _Saxony_? + + _Enter Duke and Valen_. + +_Duke_. It is our pleasure. + +_Valen_. Have you caught him so? +Now shall you waite the mercy we will shew: +I was too base to be your father's wife. + +_Duke_. But he shall sue to thee to save his life. + +_Fred_. Perjurde, ungratefull, unnaturall, +Is this the pardon given in generall? + +_Duke_. Wee'l talke of that hereafter; make him fast. + +_Valen_. Helpe, _Vandermas_, our self will ayding be +To keepe in awe such sencelesse trechery. + +_Duke_. My helpe and all to prison, there till death +Remaine in duresse. + +_Fred_. Rather stop my breath, +Strangle me with these cords; prison to me +Is twenty deaths, I will have liberty. +Now as you are a father, be more kind; +You did not find me in so sterne a mind. +Are[209] you forgetful of the life I sav'd? +Shall a Duke's Sonne by treason thus be slav'd? +If you suspect my love, grant me the fight; +I dare in single combate any knight, +Any adventurer, any pandorus hinde, +To proue my faith of an unfained mind. + +_Duke_. Away with him. + +_Fred_. I see my death's set downe, +And some adulterous heire must weare that Crowne. +To intreate a _Rodophe_, I had rather dye +Then have my life lodg'd in such infamy: +If all my fortunes on her words depend, +Let her say kill me, and so make an end. + +_Duke_. Why stay you? + +_Vander_. Good my Lord. + +_Fred_. Peace, untaught Groome, +My heart's so great that Ide forerun my doome. +There's no release meant, you have vowed I see +To dam your soules by wilfull periury. +Yet that I am my self, let these words shew: +To die is naturall, tis a death I owe, +And I will pay it, with a mind as free +As I enjoyed in my best libertie. +But this assure your self, when all is done, +They'l kill the father that will kill the sonne. [_Exit_. + +_Duke_. What's to be done now? + +_Mon_. Seale unto his death, +Your warrant nere the sooner takes effect: +'Twill be a meanes to make him penitent. +Seeing his fault, hee'l taste your mercie best, +When now he proudly thinkes he is opprest. + +_Duke_. A Warrant shall be sign'd, and unto thee +I doe commend it; deale not partially; +If he be sorry and in true remorse, +Cancell the Writ, else let it have full force. +Had I ten sonnes, as I have onely this, +They should all die, ere thou depriv'd of blisse. +So great is my affection, my faire wife, +That to save thine Ide frankly give my life. +Come, weele about it strait, all time seemes long, +Where thou hast found slight cause to feare my wrong. + +_Valen_. That writ Ile take, and a conclusion trie: +If he can love he lives, if hate me die. +For howsoere, I seeme to scorne the man, +Hee's somewhat deare in my affection.-- +Here comes your brothers. + + _Enter Alfred, and Hatto_. + +_Alfred_. May it please your grace, +By chance entring into Saint _Maries_ Church, +This morn by breake of day, I espied +That that I know will vexe your Excellence: +Your daughter _Euphrata_ is married +To the ambitious beggar _Constantine_. + +_Duke_. My daughter married to my Chamber-squire? + +_Mon_. Your Excellence did banish me the land +Because I did suspect her with that fellow. + +_Duke_. He shall be tortur'd with th'extreamest plague +For his presumption.--Have you brought them, +That I may kill them with a killing looke? + +_Hat_. Without direction we have ventured +To lay upon them your strict command, +And they attend. + +_Duke_. Bring the presumptuous. + + _Enter Constantine, and Euphrata, Otho following in disguise_. + +_Euph_. Forward, _Constantine_, our Rites are done, +Thou art my husband, doe not feare his eye, +The worst it can import is but to die. + +_Duke_. Base and degenerate. + +_Euph_. He is a Gentleman, +'Twas base of you to wed a Curtizan. + +_Mon_. Her brothers spirit right, bold and audacious. + +_Euph_. When[210] I am no bastard, wherefore should I feare? +The knot is sacred, and I hold it deare; +I am wedded unto virtue, not to will, +Such blessed unions never bring forth ill. +If I offend, in disobedience, +Judge of the power of love by your offence. +Father, you have no reason for this ire; +Frowne whilst you kill us, desire is desire. + +_Duke_. A Curtezan? hath that ambitious boy +Taught you such Rethoricke? you shall taste like joy. +I will not reason with you, words are vaine, +The fault is best discerned in the paine. +Your hastie marriage hath writ downe his death, +And thy proud words shall scale it with thy breath. +By what is dearest to mee, here I sweare, +Both of your heads, shall grace a fatall beere. +Take them to prison, Ile not heare a word, +This is the mercie that we will afford. +Since they are growne so proud, next morn begun, +Let them be both beheaded with my sonne. + +_Con_. Short and sweet: _Euphrata_, the doome is faire, +We shall be soone in heaven, there ends my care. +I scorne entreatie, and, my deare, I know, +All such slavery thou hatest so, +'Twill be a famous deed for this good man +To kill all's children for a Curtezan. + +_Euph_. Wilt thou die with me? + +_Const_. Would I live in heaven? +Thou art now too high for me, death makes us even. + +_Euph_. Looke to your dukedome: those that hast our fall +Have by their avarice almost hurried all. +There's a whole Register of the poores crie: +Whilst they are reading them, imbrace and die. + + [_Flings downe her lap full of Petitions_. + + [_Exeunt Euph. and Constant_. + +_Duke_. Beare them away.--And now let's reade these Writes. +What's here? complaints against my worthy brothers +For corne transported, Copper money stampt,[211] +Our subjects goods ceaz'd, and I know not what. +A plague upon this busie-headed rabble! +We will have tortures made to awe the slaves; +Peace makes them ever proud and malapert, +They'l be an Overseer of the State. + +_Valen_. And plead reformation to depose you. + +_Duk_. True, my faire Dutchesse, but Ile cut them short. +Rule still, deare brothers: take these to the fire, +Let me reade somewhat that augments desire, +Authors and golden Poems full of love; +Such the Petitions are that I approve. +So I may live in quiet with my wife, +Let fathers, mothers, children, all lose life. +If thou have issue, in despight of fate +They shall succeed in our Imperiall state. +Come, sweet, to dauncing, then to sport and play, +Till we have ruled all our life away. + + [_Exeunt_. + + _Manet, Otho_. + +_Otho_. O pittifull condition of a Realme, +Where the chiefe ruler is ore-rul'd by pleasure! +Seeing my friend supriz'd, in this disguise +I followed him to meete the consequence. +And to my griefe I see his marriage rites +Will cut him short of all this earths delights. +What's that to me? When _Constantine_ is dead, +I have some hope to attaine her Nuptiall bed. +But she is doom'd as well as hee to die: +Can the Duke act his daughters Tragedie? +It is impossible; he will relent, +And Ile perswade her freely to repent. +Yet 'tis most likelie that he will agree: +He is so farre spent in vild tyrannie. +The commons hate him for the wrong he hath done +(By his brothers meanes), the Nobles for his sonne. +Famine spreads through the land, the people die; +Yet he lives senselesse of their miserie. +Never were subjects more mislead by any, +Nor ever Soveraigne hated by so many. +But, _Constantine_, to thee I cast an eye; +Shall all our friendship end in enmitie? +Shall I, that ever held thee as my life, +Hasten thy death that I may get thy wife? +Or love or friendship, whether shall exceed, +Ile explaine your vertue in this following deed. + + [_Exit_. + + + +[SCENE 3.] + + + _Enter Valentia, Montano, and Vandermas_. + +_Val_. Have you the instruments I gave in charge. + +_Vand_. Wee have. + +_Val_. And resolution fitting for the purpose? + +_Mon_. All things are ready, with our faithfull hearts. + +_Val_. And she that undertakes so great an act +As I intend, had need of faithfull hearts +This is the prison, and the jaylor comes +In happy time: where's trayterous _Fredericke_? + + _Enter Jaylor_. + +_Jaylor_. What is your highnesse pleasure with the Prince? + +_Val_. Looke there, if you can reade. + +_Jai_. O heavenly God, +What doe I read? a warrant for his death? + +_Valen_. Resigne your keyes, goe weepe a dirge or twaine +But make no clamour with your lamentation. + +_Jay_. I dare not prophesie what my soule feares, +Yet Ile lament his tragedie in teares. [_Exit_. + +_Valen_. Oft have I seene a Nobleman arraign'd +By mighty Lords, the pillars of the land, +Some of which number, his inclined friends, +Have wept, yet past the verdict of his death: +So fares it with the Prince. Were I his jaylor, +And so affected unto _Fredericks_ life, +The fearfull'st tyrant nor the cruell'st plagues +That ever lighted on tormented soules, +Should make me yeeld my prisoner to their hands. + +_Mon_. Madam, he knowes his duty, and performes it. + +_Valen_. Setting aside all dutie, I would die +Ere like a woman weepe a tragedie; +Tis basenesse, cowardize. Dutie! O slave, +Had I a friend, I'de dye in my friends grave. +But it sorts well for us; Hindes will be Hindes, +And the Ambitious tread upon such mindes. +Waite, whilest I call you, in the jaylors house. + +_Mon_. We will. + [_Exeunt Van. and Mon_. + +_Valen_. My Lord, Prince _Fredericke_. + + _Enter Fred_. + +_Fred_. Wofull _Fredericke_ +Were a beseeming Epitaph for me, +The other tastes of too much soveraigntie. +What? is it you! the glory of the stewes! + +_Valen_. Thy mother, _Fredericke_. + +_Fred_. I detest that name, +My mother was a Dutches of true fame; +And now I thinke upon her, when she died +I was ordain'd to be indignified. +She never did incense my Princely Father +To the destruction of his loving sonne: +Oh she was vertuous, trulie naturall, +But this step-divell doth promise our fall. + +_Val_. Why doest thou raile on me? I am come +To set thee free from all imprisonment. + +_Fred_. By what true supersedeas but by death? +If it be so, come, strike me to the earth; +Thou needest no other weapon but thine eye; +Tis full of poyson, fixe it, and Ile die. + +_Val_. Uncharitable youth, I am no serpent venom'd, +No basiliske to kill thee with my sight. + +_Fre_. Then thou speak'st death, I am sorry I mistooke; +They both are fatall, theres but little choice; +The first inthral'd my father, the last me, +No deadlier swords ever us'd enemie; +My lot's the best that I dye with the sound, +But he lives dying in a death profound. +I grow too bitter, being so neere my end; +Speake quickly, boldly, what your thoughts intend. + +_Valen_. Behold this warrant, you can reade it well. + +_Fred_. But you the interpretation best can tell: +Speake, beautious ruine, twere great injurie +That he should reade the sentence that must dye. + +_Val_. Then know in briefe 'tis your fathers pleasure. + +_Fred_. His pleasure, what? + +_Val_. That you must loose your life. + +_Fred_. Fatall is his pleasure, 'tis to please his wife. +I prethee, tell me, didst thou ever know +A Father pleased his sonne to murder so? +For what is't else but murder at the best? +The guilt whereof will gnawe him in his brest, +Torment him living, and when I am dead +Curse thee by whose plot I was murdered? +I have seene the like example, but, O base! +Why doe I talke with one of your disgrace? +Where are the officers? I have liv'd too long, +When he that gave me life does me this wrong. + +_Val_. That is thy fathers hand, thou dost not doubt? +And if thou shouldst, I have witnesse to approve it. +Yet tho it be his hand, grant to my request, +Love me and live. + +_Fred_. To live so, I detest. Love thee! + +_Valen_. I, love me, gentle _Fredericke_, love me. + +_Fred_. Incestuous strumpet, cease. + +_Val_. Oh thou dealest ill, +To render so much spleene for my good will. + +_Fred_. Torment farre worse then death. + +_Valen_. Ile follow thee: +Deare _Fredericke_, like thy face, be thy words faire. + +_Fre_. This monstrous dealing doubles my deaths care. + +_Valen_. What shall I call thee to allay this ire? + +_Fred_. Why, call me son and blush at thy desire. + +_Valen_. I never brought thee foorth. + +_Fred_. Art thou not wife +Unto my father? + +_Val_. Thinke upon thy life: +It lyes like mine, onely in gentle breath; +Or that thy father's dead, and after death +'Tis in my choice to marry whom I will. + +_Fred_. Any but me. + +_Valen_. O doe not thinke so ill, +Rather thinke, thou art a stranger, not his sonne; +Then 'tis no incest tho the Act be done. +Nature unto her selfe is too unkind +To buzze such scruples into _Fredericks_ minde; +Twas a device of man to avoid selfe love, +Else every pleasure in one stocke should move, +Beautie in grace part never from the kinne. + +_Fred_. If thou persever as thou hast begun, +I shall forget I am my fathers sonne, +I shall forget thou art my fathers wife, +And where 'tis I must die abridge thy life. + +_Valen_. Why did'st not kill me, being thy prisoner then, +But friendly didst deliver me again[212] +Unto thy father, wert not thou didst love me? + +_Fred_. Beyond all sufferance, monster, thou dost move me. +'Twas for my fathers sake, not for thine owne; +That, to thy lifes losse, thou hadst throughly knowne +But that relenting nature playde her part, +To save thy blood whose losse had slaine his heart: +And it repents me not hee doth survive, +But that his fortune was so ill to wive. +Come, kill, for for that you came; shun delayes +Lest living Ile tell this to thy dispraise, +Make him to hate thee, as he hath just cause, +And like a strumpet turne thee to the lawes. + +_Valen_. Good _Fredericke_. + +_Fred_. Tis resolv'd on, I haue said. + +_Valen_. Then fatall Ministers I craue your ayde. + + _Enter Van. and Mont_. + +Come, _Vandermas, Montano_, wheres your corde? +Quicklie dispatch, strangle this hatefull Lord. +Or stay: because I love him, he shall chuse +The easiest of three deaths that we may use, +The halter, poyson, or bloodshedding blade. + +_Fred_. Any of them. + +_Valen_. This Aconite's well made, a cup of poyson +Stuft with despatching simples, give him this, +And he shall quickly leave all earthly blisse. +There, take it, _Fredericke_, our last guift of grace; +Since thou must die, Ile have thee die apace. + +_Fred_. O happie meanes, given by a trecherous hand, +To be my true guide to the heavenly land! +Death steales upon me like a silken sleepe; +Through every vaine doe leaden rivers flowe,[213] +The gentlest poyson that I ever knewe, +To work so coldly, yet to be so true. +Like to an infant patiently I goe, +Out of this vaine world, from all worldly woe; +Thankes to the meanes, tho they deserve no thankes, +My soule beginnes t'ore-flow these fleshly bankes. +My death I pardon unto her and you, +My sinnes God pardon; so vaine world adiew. + [_He falls asleep_. + +_Valen_. Ha, ha, ha. + +_Mon_. Hee's dead, why does your highnesse laugh? + +_Valen_. Why, Lord _Montano_, that I love to see, +He that hath sav'd my life, to die for me. +But theres a riddle in this Princes death, +And Ile explaine it on this floore of earth. +Come, to his sisters execution goe, +We have varietie of joyes in woe. +I am sure, you have heard his Excellence did sweare +Both of their heads should grace a Kingly beare. +Upon a mourning hearse let him be layd; +He shalbe intombed with a wived maid. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + + +_Actus Quintus_. + +[SCENE 1.] + + + _Enter Duke, Hatto, and Alfred_. + +_Duke_. Bring forth the prisoners: wher's my beauteous Dutches +That she may see the ruine of her foes? +She that upbraided her with slanderous wordes, +She that in scorne of due obedience +Hath matcht the honour of the _Saxons_ blood +Unto a beggar; let them be brought foorth, +I will not rise from this tribunal seate +Till I have seene their bodies from their heads. + +_Alfred_. Here comes the Dutches with proud _Fredericks_ hearse. + + _Enter, Valentia, Montano, Vandermas, with others, + bearing the hearse, with Fredericke on, covered + with a black robe_. + +_Duke_. So, set it downe: why have you honored it +With such a sable coverture? A traytor, +Deserves no cloth of sorrow: set it downe, +And let our other offspring be brought foorth. +My beauteous, lovely, and admired love, +Come, sit by us in an imperiall chayre, +And grace this state throne with a state more fayre. + +_Valen_. My gracious Lord, I hope your Excellence +Will not be so forgetfull of your honour, +Prove so unnaturall to your loving daughter +As to bereave her of her life +Because she hath wedded basely gainst your will. +Though _Fredericke_ dyed deservedly, yet shee +May by her loves death clear her indignitie. + +_Duke_. She and her love we have sentenced to die, +Not for her marriage onely, tho that deede +Crownes the contempt with a deserved death, +But chiefly for she raild against thy worth, +Upbraided thee with tearmes so monstrous base +That nought but death can cleare the great disgrace. +How often shall I charge they be brought foorth? +Were my heart guilty of a crime so vilde, +I'de rend it forth, then much more kill my childe. + +_Val_. O, that this love may last! 'tis sprung so hie, +Like flowers at full growth that grow to die. + + _Enter Julia, with a vaile over her head, Otho with + another, with Officers_. + +_Duke_. What means these sable vailes upon their faces? + +_Val_. In signe they sorrow for your high displeasure. +For since the houre they were imprisoned, +They have liv'd like strangers, hood-winkt together. +You may atchieve great fame, victorious Lord, +To save the lives of two such innocents. + +_Duke_. Tis pretty in thee, my soule lov'd Dutchesse, +To make this Princely motion for thy foes. +Let it suffice, the'are traitors to the state, +Confederators with those that sought my life, +A kinne to _Fredericke_, that presumptious boy, +That durst beare armes against his naturall father: +Are they more deare then he? off with their vailes. + +_Mon_. O yet be mercifull unto your daughter. + +_Duke_. You make me mad, headsman; dispatch I say, +They are doom'd to die, and this the latest day. + +_Otho_. Then let him strike, who ever traitors be, +I am sure no treason lives in her or me. + +_Duke_. How now, whats here? _Otho_ and _Julia_! +Am I deluded? where is _Euphrata_, +And that audacious traitor _Constantine_? + +_Otho_. Why, fled. + +_Duke_. To whom? + +_Otho_. To safetie, here was none. +I can resolve you of the circumstance: +Betwixt the noble _Constantine_ and I,-- +Noble I call him for his virtuous minde-- +There was a league of love so strongly made +That time wants houres, and occasion cause, +To violate the contract of our hearts. +Yet on my part the breach did first appeare: +He brought me to behold his beauteous love +The faire _Euphrata_; her Angel sight +Begate in me the fire of private love: +I that before did like her for my friend, +Now to deceive him, sought her for my selfe; +But my device was knowne unto my friend, +And worthilie he banisht me his sight. + +_Duke_. Whats this to their destruction? seeke them forth. + +_Otho_. They are far enough from suffering such a death. +I, well considering my unfriendly part, +Bethought me how to reconcile my self +Unto my hearts endeared _Constantine_; +And seeing him carried to the prison, we +Followed, and found meanes for their libertie. + +_Duke_. Are they escapt then? + +_Otho_. Both, in our disguise, +And we stand here to act their tragedies. +If they have done amisse, on us +Impose the Law. + +_Julia_. O let our suites prevaile, +I ask to dye for my deare Ladies sake. + +_Otho_. I for my friend. + +_Duke_. This friendly part doth make +My heart to bleede within me, and my minde +Much perplext that I have beene so unkind. +What second funerall march is that I heare? + + _Enter Rainaldo and Alberto, like schollers, grieving + before the Beare, others following them with bodies of + Euphrata and Constantine covered with blacke_. + +_Alberto_. Health to this presence, though the newes +Impairing health I bring unto this presence; +The bodies of the drowned _Constantine_ +And the faire _Euphrata_, behold them both. + +_Duke_. Of drowned _Constantine_ and _Euphrata_! +Declare the manner, and with killing words +Temper thy words, that it may wound my life. + +_Albert_. Passing the _Rhine_, bordering upon the tower, +From whence, it seemes they lately had escapt, +By an unskilfull Guide their gundelet[214] +Encountred with an other, and the shocke +Drown'd both the vessayles, and their haplesse lives. +Their bodies hardly were recovered;[215] +But, knowne, we brought them to your excellence +As to a father, that should mourne for them. + +_Duke_. Unto a tyrant, doe not call me father, +For I have beene no father to their lives. +The barbarous Canniball, that never knew +The naturall touch of humane beauty, +Would have beene farre more mercifull then I. +Oh tyrannic, the overthrow of Crownes, +Kingdomes subversion, and the deaths of Kings! +Loe here a piteous object so compleate +With thy intestine and destroying fruite, +That it will strike thee dead! oh _Euphrata_, +Oh princely _Fredericke_, never deare to me +Till now, in you I see my misery. +My sonne, my daughter, vertuous _Constantine_! + +_Hat_. What meanes this griefe, my Lord? these are the traytors +That you in justice sentenced to dye. + +_Alfred_. A trecherous sonne and a rebellious daughter. + +_Valen_. Those that did seeke to take away your life. + +_Mon_. Bereave you of your Crownes prerogative. + +_Duke_. Hence from my sight, blood-thirsty Counsellors! +They never sought my life, but you have sought it. +Vertuous _Alberto_ and _Rinaldo_, +Had I given eare to them and to my sonne, +My joyes had flourished, that now are done. + +_Valen_. Yet for my sake allay this discontent. + +_Duke_. Tis for thy sake, thou vilde notorious woman, +That I have past the limits of a man, +The bonds of nature. +'Twas thy bewitching eye, thy Syrens voice, +That throwes me upon millions of disgrace, +Ile have thee tortur'd on the Racke, +Plucke out those basiliske enchaunting eyes, +Teare thee to death with Pincers burning hot, +Except thou giue me the departed lives +Of my deare childeren. + +_Valen_. What, am I a Goddesse +That I should fetch their flying soules from heaven +And breath them once more in their clay cold bodies? + +_Duke_. Thou art a witch, a damn'd sorceresse, +No goddesse, but the goddesse of blacke hell, +And all those devils thy followers. +What makes thou, on the earth, to murder men? +Will not my sonnes and daughters timelesse[216] lives, +Taken away in prime of their fresh youth, +Serve to suffice thee? + +_Valen_. O, you are mad, my Lord. + +_Duke_. How can I choose, +And such a foule _Erynnis_ gase on me, +Such furious legions circle me about, +And my slaine Sonne and Daughters fire brands +Lying so neere me, to torment my soule? +Extremitie of all extremities: +Take pitty on the wandering sense of mine +Or it will breake the prison of my soule +And like to wild fire fly about the world, +Till they have no abiding in the world. +I faint, I dye, my sorrowes are so great, +Oh mortalitie, renounce thy seate. [_He fals down_. + +_Valen_. The Duke, I feare, is slaine with extreame griefe. +I that had power, to kill him, will assay henceforth +My utmost industry to save his life. +Looke up my Lord, 'tis not _Valentias_ voice, +That Courtezan that hath betray'd thy honour, +Murder'd thy childeren, and almost slaine thee: +I am thy sonne, I am Prince _Fredericke_; +If thou hast any liking for that name, +Looke on my face, I come to comfort thee. + +_Duke_. The name of _Fredericke_ is like Hermes wande +Able to charme and uncharme sorrowfull men. +Who nam'd _Fredericke_? + +_Valen_. I pronounc't his name, +That have the power to give thee thy lost Sonne, +Had I like virtue to restore the other. +Behold my Lord, behold thy headlesse Sonne +Blest with a head, the late deceased living; +As yet not fully waken'd from the sleepe, +My drowsie potion kindled in his braine, +But much about this houre the power should cease; +And see, he wakes. + +_Duke_. O happinesse, tis hee. + +_Valen_. Imbrace him then, but ne're more imbrace me. + +_Fred_. Where am I, in what dungeon, wheres my grave? +Was I not dead, or dreamt I was dead? +This am I sure, that I was poisoned.[217] + +_Duke_. Thou art deceiv'd, my Sonne, but this deceit +Is worth commendations; thanke my Dutchesse, +Her discretion reedified thy life, +But she hath prov'd her selfe a gracious wife. + +_Fred_. She tempt[ed] me to lust; wast in my grave? + +_Valen_. 'Twas but to try thy faith unto thy father: +Let it suffice, his hand was at thy death +But twas my mercie that proclaim'd thy breath. + +_Fred_. To heaven and you, I render worthy thankes. + +_Duke_. O liv'd my _Euphrata_ and _Constantine_, +How gladly would I all my griefe resigne. + +_Albert_. On that condition, and with this besides, +That you be pleas'd to pardon us and them, +We doe referre our persons to your mercie. + +_Duke_. My daughter, my deare sonne in law, +Vertuous _Alberto_? then, my friend, +My joyes are at the highest, make this plaine +How these sav'd drownd, as _Fredericke_ has bin slaine. + +_Albert_. Presuming on the example of these friends, +And know we are all actors in this plot +Boldly presented your presence, with this minde, +If pardoning them your grace would pardon us; +If otherwise, this was the joy of either, +That death's lesse painefull when friends die together. + +_Duke_. We doe receive you all into our favour, +And my faire Dutchesse; my unkind divorce +Shall be confounded with a second marriage, +I here receive thee once more as my wife. + +_Val_. You have your childeren, I have paid that debt, +You have divorc'd me, therefore I am free, +And henceforth I will be at libertie. + +_Duke_. Theres no divorce can part thee from thy Lord. + +_Valen_. Like to unkindnesse there is no divorce, +I will no more be won unto your bed, +But take some course to lament my life mislead. + +_Duke_. Canst thou live better then in sacred wedlock? + +_Valen_. Wedlocke to me is unpleasing, since my Lord +Hath broke the band of marriage with unkindnesse. + +_Duke_. Intreate her, children, _Fredericke, Euphrata_, +Let me not loose the essence of my soule. + +_Fred_. Divine _Valentia_, mirrour of thy sexe, +The pride of true reclaim'd incontinence, +Honour of the dishonoring, yeeld I pray, +And be mercifull, pitty my fathers smart, +Since thy last thraldome hath neare cleft his heart. + +_Euph_. 'Twas for his children that his spleene did rise, +Anger a torture haunting the most wise. + +_Valen_. O no I am a murderesse, an _Erinnis_, +A fury sent from _Limbo_ to affright +Legions of people with my horrid sight. + +_Hat_. What doe you meane? be won by their intreaties. + +_Alfred_. 'Tis madnesse in you to be thus perverse. + +_Val_. Who ever speaks, base wretches, be you dumb; +You are the catterpillers of the state, +By your bad dealings he is unfortunate. +Thou, honorable, true, beloved Lord, +Hearken to me, and by thy antient love, +I charge thee, banish these realme-sucking slaves, +That build their pallace upon poore mens graves. +O those are they that have wrong'd both you and me, +Made this blest land a land of miserie; +And since, by too much loving, your grace hath falne +Into a generall hating of your subjects, +Redeeme your lost estate with better dayes; +So shall you merit never dying praise, +So shall you gaine lives quietnesse on earth, +And after death a new celestiall birth. + +_Duke_. Unto thy wisedome I referre their doomes, +My selfe, my Dukedome, and my crowne. +Oh were there anything of higher rate, +That unto [t]hee I'de wholly consecrate. + +_Val_. This kind surrender shewes you are a Prince, +Worthy to be an Angell in the world +Of immortalitie, +Which these cursed creatures never can attaine. +But that this world may know how much I hate +This cruell, base oppression of the poore, +First, I enjoyne you for the wrongs you have done, +Make restitution; and because your goods +Are not sufficient so to satisfie, +I doe condemn your bodies to the Mynes, +Where live like golden drudges all your lives, +In digging of the mettall you best love: +Death is your due, but for your noble race +This gentle sentence I impose on you: +The Duke succeeding shall behold it done. + +_Duke_. Who's that, my love? + +_Valen_. Kind _Fredericke_, your sonne: +The interest that your grace hath given to me, +I freely doe impart. + +_Duke_. We doe agree, +To what my Dutchesse please. + +_Valen_. The state is thine, +Thy Uncles sentence, _Fredericke_, shall be mine. + +_Fred_. Beare them away, what you have said shall stand, +Whilst I have interest in this new given land. + +_Hat_. We doe receive our judgements, with a curse. + +_Valen_. Learne to pray better, or it shall be worse: +Lords, see those wormes of kingdomes be destroyed. +And now, to give a period to my speeche +I doe intreate your grace, if that your love +Be not growne colde, but that your heart desires +The true societie of a chaste wife, +Be pleas'd to undergoe a further doome. +Wee haue liv'd too lightly, we have spent our dayes, +Which should be dedicated to our God, +In soule destroying pleasure, and our sloth +Hath drawne upon the Realme a world of plagues.[218] +Therefore hereafter let us live together +In some removed cell or hermitage, +Unto the which poore travellers mislead +May have direction and reliefe of wants. + +_Duke_. A hermetary life is better then a kingdome, +So my _Valentia_ beare me company. + +_Valen_. If my dread Lord will for my sake endure +So strickt a calling, my bewitching haires +Shall be made napkins to dry up the teares +That true repentance wringeth from our hearts; +Our sinnes we'l number with a thousand sighes, +Fasting shall be the Steward of our Feast, +Continuall prayer in stead of costly cates, +And the remainder of our life a schoole +To learne new lessons for the land of heaven. +The will, where power is wanting, is good payment; +Grace doth reject no thought, tho' nere so small, +So it be good; our God is kind to all. +Come, my deare Lord, this is a course more kind; +No life like us that have a heavenly mind. + +_Mon_. O let me be a servant in that life. + +_Valen_. With all my heart, a Partner let him be +There's small ambition in humility. + +_Duke_. _Fredericke_, farewell, deare _Euphrata_, adue; +Remember us in prayer, as we will you. + + [_Exeunt D. & D_ + +_Fred_. A happy change: would all that step awry +Would take like course in seeking pietie. + +_Otho_. Two humble suites I crave of my best friend: +First, pardon for my rashnesse in your love, +Next this most loyall Virgin for my wife. + +_Con_. With all my heart, if _Julia_ be pleas'd. + +_Julia_. I have no power to disobey your grant. + +_Con_. Then she is yours. + +_Fred_. _Alberto_, +The offices belonging to our Uncles +We doe derive to you for your good service +In our late warres, and in our sisters love. +And now set forwards: Lords, let us be gone +To solemnize two mariages in one. + + + +_The Epilogue. + +Encouragement unto the valiant +Is like a golden spurre upon the heele +Of a young Knight, like to a wreath of Bay +To a good Poet; like a sparkeling Crowne, +Unto a Kings Son. Honour and renowne +Is the efficient and persevering cause +Of every well deserved action. +Take away some recorde, encouragement, +And the World's like a_ Chaos, _all delight +Buried unborne in everlasting night. +Even so it fares with us, and with the rest +Of the same facultie, all meerely nothing: +Without your favour every labour dyes, +Save such whose second springs comes from your eyes. +Extend your beames of love to us at full, +As the Sunne does unto the Easterne clime, +And England may bring forth like India +As costly spice, as orientall Jems. +The earth's all one, the heate refines the moulde, +And favour makes the poorest ground yielde gold_. + + +FINIS. + + + + + + +INTRODUCTION TO EVERIE WOMAN IN HER HUMOR. + +This old "comical satire" has come down in a very corrupt state. A sadly +tattered appearance is presented by the metrical passages. I have +ventured to patch only a few of the many rents in the old coat of 1609. + +The anonymous playwright owes much more than the title of the play to +Ben Jonson. Acutus, overflowing with bitter and tedious moralising, is +evidently modelled on Macilente in _Every Man Out of His Humour_. The +very dog--Getica's dog--was suggested by Puntarvolo's dog. Indeed, +throughout the play we are constantly reminded of _Every Man Out of His +Humour_; but the unknown writer had some inventiveness of his own, and +was not a mere copyist. The jolly fat host, with his cheery cry "merry +hearts live long," is pleasant company; and his wife, the hard-working +hostess, constantly repining at her lot, yet seemingly not dissatisfied +at heart, has the appearance of being a faithful transcript from life. +Cornutus (the hen-pecked citizen) and his gadding wife are familiar +figures, but not the less welcome on that account. Getica's anxiety at +the loss of her dog is amusingly depicted. In fact, the whole play would +be tolerable, if the moralising were cut out and the text were free from +corruptions. + + + +EVERIE Woman in her Humor. + + +LONDON Printed by E.A. for _Thomas Archer_, and are to be solde at his +shop in the _Popes-head-Pallace_, neere the Royall Exchange. 1609. + + + + +_Everie Woman in her_ + Humor. + + + _Enter Flavia as a Prologue_. + +Gentles of both sexes and all sortes, I am sent to bid yee welcome; I +am but instead of a Prologue, for a she-prologue[219] is as rare as an +Usurers Almes, _non reperitur in usu_; and the rather I come woman +because men are apt to take kindelye any kinde thing at a womans hand; +and wee poore foules are but too kinde if wee be kindely intreated, +marry otherwise, there I make my _Aposiopesis_. The Author hath indeede +made me an honest merrye wench one of his humorists, yet I am so much +beholding to him, I cannot get mee a husband in his play that's worthe +the having, unlesse I be better halfe of the sutor my selfe; and having +imposed this audacity on me, he sends me hither first for exercise. I +come among ye all, these are the Contentes: that you would heare with +patience, judge with lenity, and correct with smiles; for the which our +endeavour[220] shall shew it selfe, like a tall fellow in action; if we +shall joyne hands, a bargaine. + + As a lowely earnest, I give this curtesie before, + And in conceite I give ye twenty more. + + + +[ACT THE FIRST. + +_Scene_ 1.] + + + _Enter Accutus and Graccus_. + +_Gra_. Nay but, _Accutus_, prethee what mis-shapen vizard of Melancholly +hast thou mask't thy selfe in? Thou lookst as thou wer't changing thy +religion; what? is there a breach in thy Faith? come declare, and let me +set thy [my?] wits on worke to amend it. + +_Acut_. Ha, ha, ha! + +_Gra_. Prettie; a man's well advisd to offer good counsell, and be +laught at for his labour: we shall shortly have no counsellors, but +Physitians; I spend my breath to thee, and thou answerest me some half +an houre after in a sem[i]breve, or like to a Sexton, with a Sobeit or +Amen. + +_Acu_. Condemn my Stars then! + +_Grac_. I should wrong am then, as thou dost with a false inditment. I +know it took not beeing at thy birth: thou hast been merrie, thou hast +sounded hoopes, swallowed whiffes, walkt late, worn favours, seene +whoresons; thou canst feele and understand, come thou hast bene a +sinner, unloade, discharge, untune, confesse, is _Venus_ dominatrix? art +not in love? + +_Acut_. Yes, I love God and my neighbors. + +_Grac_. Then either for God's sake or thy Neighbors, or both, be smothe, +and participate; ist not some underlayer, some she Cammell, that will +beare as much of her belly as three beastes on their backes? some +Lanthorne-maker? Ile holde thy head; come, up with't! + +_Acut_. Prethee, I hate none, but heaven hate me if I be in love with +any. + +_Grac_. Off with these clogs; then break prison and get out of this +melancholly Gaole. Harke how the generall noise doth welcome from the +_Parthian_ wars; each spirit's jocund, fraught with glee, then wrong not +thine with this dull meditation. + +_Accut_. Oh! how doe they then wrong my meditation! my thoughts are with +themselues at a counsell; til with noise, and thou with continuall +talke, hast driven them to a _nonplus_. + +_Gra_. Then make me of thy counsell, and take my advice, for ile take no +denyall; Ile not leave thee til the next new Almanackes be out of date; +let him threaten the sharpest weather he can in Saint _Swithin_ week, or +it snow on our Ladies face, ile not budge, ile be thy mid-wife til thou +beest delivered of this passion. + +_Accut_. Partake then, and give me the beleefe; thinkst thou or knowst +thou any of this opinion, that that mooving marish element, that swels +and swages as it please the Moone, to be in bignes equall to that solid +lump that brings us up? + +_Gra_. I was sure that thou wer't beyond the _Antipodes_; faith, I am of +that faith I was brought up in, I have heard my Father say, and i'me +sure, his Recordes came from his Father, that Land and Sea are in nature +thus much alike; the owne [_sic_] growes by the Sunne, the other by the +Moone, both by God's blessing, and the Sea rather the greater; and so +thinke I. + +_Acut_. Good; there we have a farther scope, and holde the sea can (as a +looking glasse) answer with a meere simile[221] any mooving shape uppon +the earth. + +_Gra_. Nay, that's most certaine, I have heard of Sea-horses, +Sea-calves, and Sea-monsters. + +_Acut_. Oh, they are monstrous, madde, merrie, wenches, and they are +monsters. + +_Grac_.[222] They call them Sea-maides, or Mermaides, singing sweetelye, +but none dares trust them; and are verie like our Land-wenches, +devouring Serpents, from the middle downeward. + +_Acut_. Thou hast even given me satisfaction, but hast thou this by +proofe? + +_Grac_. Not by my travels (so God helpe me): marrie, ile bring ye fortie +Saylers, will sweare they have seene them. + +_Acut_. In truth! + +_Grac_. In truth or otherwise. + +_Acut_. Faith they are not unlike our land-monsters, else why should +this _Maximilian_ Lord, for whom these shoots [_sic_] and noises befits +thus, forsake his honours to sing a Lullabye? +These seeming Saints, alluring evils, +That make earth _Erebus_, and mortals devils-- + +_Gra_. Come, thou art Sea-sicke, and will not be well at ease, til thou +hast tane a vomit: up with 't. + +_Acu_. Why, ifaith, I must; I can not soothe the World +With velvet words and oyly flatteries, +And kiss the sweatie feet of magnitude +To purchace smiles or a deade mans office; +I cannot holde to see a rib of man, +A moytie of it selfe, commaund the whole; +Bafful and bend to muliebritie. +O[223] female scandal! observe, doe but observe: +Heere one walks ore-growne with weeds of pride, +The earth wants shape to apply a simile, +A body prisoned up with walles of wyer, +With bones of whales; somewhat allyed to fish, +But from the wast declining, more loose doth hang +Then her wanton dangling lascivious locke +Thats whirld and blowne with everie lustfull breath; +Her necke in chaines, all naked lyes her brest, +Her body lighter than the feathered Crest. +Another powtes, and scoules, and hangs the lip, +Even as the banckrout[224] credit of her husband +Cannot equal her with honors liverie. +What does she care if, for to deck her brave, +Hee's carryed from the Gate-house to his grave! +Another in a rayling pulppet key, +Drawes through her nose the accent of her voice, +And in the presence of her good-man Goate +Cries 'fye, now fye, uppon these wicked men +That use such beastly and inhumane talke,' +When being in private all her studies warne +To make him enter into _Capricorn_. +Another as she goes treads a _Canarie_[225] pace, +Jets it so fine and minces so demure +As mistris Bride upon her marriage day; +Her heels are Corke, her body Atlas, +Her Beautie bought, her soule an Atomus. +Another, with a spleene-devoured face, +Her eies as hollow as Anatomy,[226] +Her tung more venome then a Serpents sting, +Which when it wagges within her chap-faln jawes +Is noise more horrid then a cry of hounds +With open mouths pursuing of their game. +Wants she but ritch attire or costly dyet, +With her the Devill can nere live in quiet. +Yet these are weaker vessels, heaven doth knowe; +Lay on them ought but ease, you doe them wrong; +They are as weake as water and indeede as strong, +And then, like mightie ships when pellets sincke, +To them lay more men, sheele never shrinke. + + [_Enter[227] Getica and Boss, with a dog_.] + +_Boss_. Mistris, that face wants a fresh Glosse. + +_Gent_. Prethee, dib it in well, _Bos_. + +_Acut_. _Pigmaleon, Pigmaleon_, I coniure thee appeare; to worke, to +worke, make more Marble Ingles. Nature thou art a foole, Art is above +thee; _Belzebub_, paint thy face there's some will love thee. + +_Boss_. Rare, Mistris, heeres a cheeke like a Camelion or a blasing +Star, you shall heere me blaze it; heere's two saucers sanguine in a +sable field pomegranet, a pure pendat ready to drop out of the stable, a +pin and web argent in hayre de Roy. + +_Grac_. And a fooles head in the Crest. + +_Bos_. In the Crest? oh sweete Vermilion mistris, tis pittie the +Vermilion Wormes shoulde eate thee, ile set it with pretious stones and +ye will. + +_Gent_. Enough, sweete _Bosse_, throwe a little water to spurt's face +and lets away. + +_Bo_. Hold up; so, sir, now away. Oh Mistris, your scantling, most +sweete mistriss, most derydent starre. + +_Acut_. Then most rydent starre, faire fall ye. + +_Grac_. Nay tis the Moone her self, for there's her man and her Dogge +before. + +_Bosse_. I, sir, but the man is not in the moone, and my bush is before +me, _ergo_, not at my backe, _et ergo_, not moone sir. + +_Gent_. What's your will sir? + +_Acut_. That you would leave us. + +_Boss_. Leave you! zounds, sir! we scorne their companies, come they are +still, doe not open to them, we have no Conies to catch. + + [_Exeunt[228] Getica and Boss, with the dog_. + +_Acut_. Away, keepe no distance, even both together, +for wit ye may be Coacht together. +What sleeke-browde Saint can see this Idiotisme, +The shape and workmanship of omnipotency +To be so blinde with drugs of beastlinesse, +That will not bend the browe and bite the lippe, +Trouble his quiet soule with venome spleene +And feare least the all over-seeer +Can without vengeance see these ignomies? + +_Grac_. Why, therfore are they belooved like Sargeants +and entertained like Beggers; +Think'st thou but any honorable Gate, +But will be shut against these Butterflies? + +_Acut_. Oh _Graccus_! thou beguil'st opinion: +The Gates of great men stand more wide +To entertaine a foole then _Cresus_ armes +To hug the Golden God; and faster bard +Against necessitie then _Dives_ entrance +At _Olympus_ gate. + + _Enter Servulus,[229] Scillicet, Philautus and boy_. + +_Servu_.[230] Fa, la, sol, lasol; Boy, a Glasse. + +_Boy_. Tis but one and all, sir. + +_Acut_. Angels protect us, what have we heare? + +_Boy_. Ye haue a good memorie, Sir, for they are five minutes ere +windefall of your Glasse. + +_Ser_. Sir, be credible, tis ballanst to be superlative politicke +custome in these houres to dwell in shallowe accoutrements, as a defence +for the abilitie of his pursse from the infringed Oath of some impudent +face, that will borrowe a gentlemans revenewes if he be vestally adornd: +Ile tell you sir by this bright Horrison-- + +_Scil_. A word, I pray yee, sir, ere ye go any further: Boy, my Tables. + +_Boy_. Your Tables are ready, Sir, and all the men ye keep which is +indeede halfe a Boy, _Scillicet Videlicet_. + +_Scil_. I pray ye let me request that oath of you. + +_Serv_. A graceful enquirie, and well observ'd: Sir, my company shall +make ye copious of novelties, let your Tables befriend your memorie: +write, 'by this bright Horrison.' + +_Phy_. 'Here's[231] none but only I' [_sing_]; Boy, how likest thou my +head of hayre? + +_Boy_. Your Glasse may flatter ye, but truely I will not; your head is +not a hayre better than it should be. + +_Phy_. Is there any scarcitie of haire, Boy? + +_Boy_. Somewhat thin and yet there is more hayre than wit.[232] + +_Phy_. How, Boy? + +_Boy_. Then wit of man can number sir, take it i'th right sence, +I pray yee. + +_Phy_. Most ingenious! + +_Acu_. O muffle muffle, good _Graccus_, do not taint thy sence +With sight of these infectious animalles, +'Less[233] reason in thee have the upper hand +To governe sence, to see and shun the sight. +Here's new discovered sins, past all the rest; +Men strive to practice how to sweare the best.' + +_Scil_. I have quoted it, sir; by this bright Hore, Horeson, pronounce +ye, sir? + +_Serv_. Horison! + +_Scil_. Horison:--the Widowes mite, sir. + +_Serv_. Not for the Soldans crown, sir. + +_Scil_. Indeede yee shall, by this bright horison ye shall; beleeve me, +if I sweare, I think myself beholding for I know it to be no common +oath. + +_Serv_. Were it common it past not these doores; Sir, I shift my oathes, +as I wash my hands, twice in the artificial day; for in dialoguising, +tis to be observ'd, your sentences, must ironically, metaphorically, and +altogether figuratively, [be] mixt with your morning oathes. + +_Scil_. Faith, tis verie true. + +_Accu_. That he neither knowes what he saies nor thou understandest. + +_Serv_. As for example, by this illuminate welkin. + +_Scil_. Oh excellent! it shall be downe to. + +_Accut_. There's another Ducket. He utters his oathes apace. +Sure this Villaine has no soule, and for gold +Heele damn his body too, hee's at peace with hell +And brings his Merchandise from thence to sell. + +_Boy_. I have heere two Mistresses, but if the best were chosen out, if +_Poliphemus_ tother eye were out his choice might be as good as _Argus_ +broade waking, so difficult is the difference. + +_Phy_. Boy, sleepe wayward thoughts? + +_Boy_. Sir. + +_Phy_. Is it not now most amyable and faire? + +_Boy_. Yes sir, God be praised. + +_Phy_. What meanst thou, Boy? + +_Boy_. The weather, sir. + +_Phy_. I meane my haire and face, Boy. + +_Boy_. Twere amiable if it would not alter. + +_Phy_. Wherfore I often repaire it. + +_Boy_. Me thinkes that should weare it the sooner. + +_Phy_. Not so Boy, for to trimme the Hayer well is a rare qualitie; to +bee rarelye quallified is to be wise; apply, Boy. + +_Boy_. That you are wise in trimming your hayre, Maister? + +_Phy_. Right, to be wise is to be rare, for it is rare to see a wise +man. + +_Boy_. True, Maister, but if youle see a foole, looke in your Glasse, +maister! + +_Phy_. Goe to, I must correct you, Boy. + +_Boy_. You can correct no more then is your own; I am but halfe yours to +commaund, if you steale away any parte that is not your owne you are so +farre in daunger as the striking of an other mans servant. + +_Scil_.[234] By this illuminate welkin! most sincere and singular: as a +small remembrance. + +_Serv_. Not for to winne the faire _Angelica_. + +_Scillicet_. By this illuminate Welkin ye shall now.[235] Sir, I doe not +bestowe it, for that I thinke you have neede of it; for if you had, by +this bright Horizon, I would not give it, for I know tis no credit to +give to the poore. By this illuminate welkin I have (since I tooke upon +me this fleshie desire of a Gentleman) throwne out of a window, for a +hunts-up, when I had as leef have heard the grinding of a Mustard-Mill; +for those are thinges are heere too day, and gone to morrowe; this will +sticke by a man, and doe him credit where ere hee goes. + +_Acut_. I, when the foole is clad in clay, +It will sticke sore unto thy soule for aye. + +_Phy_. Signior _Scillicet_, I assure you I have discovered the most +queint and new-found device for the encounter of the Ladies at the +interview; tis in pricke-song. + +_Scil_. That's excellent and rare. + +_Phi_. I, for prick-song to Ladies is most pleasant and delightfull: as +thus for your congie, All hayle to my belooved; then for your departure, +sad dispaire doth drive me hence: for all must be to effect. + +_Grac_. Nay, prethee raise no quarrels. + +_Acut_. I can holde no longer: heare you, sir, are not you a foole? and +you an Asse? and you a knave? + +_Phy_. Zoundes! an Asse? + +_Scil_. A Foole? + +_Ser_. A Knave, without respect? + +_Acut_. I, for an Asse can beare, a Foole abide, and a Knave deserve. + +_Omn_. Helpe, Helpe! + +_Gra_. Prethee let's away. + +_Acut_. Fooles often brings wise men to trouble, +Farewell, another time ile pay ye double. + [_Exit_. + + _Enter Host, Hostesse, and Prentises_. + +_Host_. Bring your Clubs out of doores. There goe in, my fine hostes, +Ile talke to the proudest; what, knaves are i'th streete, my dore is my +dore, my house is my castell, goe in dame _Helena_, let thine Host alon +with this; he that knocks at my hobby, while I have Ale in my house, +shall pay for a Surgeon: the honest shall come in, the knaves shall go +by; bring Clubs, I say. + +_Scil_. Nay, sir, the heate is past, they that did it have tooke them to +their heeles, for indeed heere are of us-- + +_Host_. Away with your Clubs then; welcome, my brave Bullies, my Guests +shall take no wrong; but welcome, my Bullies. + +_Scil_. Indeede sir, I am a man of few words, I have put up a little +bloodshed; marrie, I hope it shall be no stain to my manhoode, if I +keepe it out of my clothes. + +_Host_. He shall pay for the blood-shed, my guestes shall take no wrong; +mine Host will spend his Cruse as franke as an Emperor; welcome, my +brave bullies. + +_Ser_. Sir, be pacificall, the fellowe was possest with some critique +frenzie, and wee impute it to his madnes. + +_Scil_. Madde! by Gods slid, if he were as madde as a weaver, I can +hardly put it up; for my blow, I care not so much, but he cald me foole; +slid, if I live till I dye, the one of us shall prove it. + +_Host_. Some prophane Villaine, ile warrant him. + +_Scil_. Doe you thinke I may not have an action against him? + +_Host_. There's so many swaggerers; but alasse, how fel ye out? + +_Scil_. By the welkin, I gave him not a foule word; first he calles me +foole, then he makes a full blowe at my body, and if, by good chance, I +had not warded it with my head, he might have spoild me. + + _Enter Prentices_. + +_Host_. There, there my fine fil-pots; give the word as you passe; anon, +anon, sir anon; heere and there in the twinckling, looke well at the +barre, there again my little Mercuries, froath them up to the brimme, +and fill as tis needeful; if their Pates be full of Wine let your +Pottles be three quarters; trip and goe, here and there; now, my brave +Lad, wash thy woundes with good Wine; bidde am welcom, my little Sybil; +put sugar in his hole there, I must in to my guests; sleepe soundly till +morning; Canarie is a Jewell, and a Figge for Browne-bastard.[236] + [_Exit_. + +_Hostes_. Gentlemen, ye are welcom, though my husband be a little +talkative, yet truly he is an unreasonable honest man, yee shall finde +his words and his sayings all one. + +_Scil_. I thinke no less, yet I would desire to enter as time and place +shall serve. + +_Hostes_. Ile lead the way forsooth. + +_Phy_. Nay, pray ye, Hostesse, a word. I say little, but i'me sure I +have sustained the most wrong; by this light, I had rather he had broke +my head in three places; I pray you lend me a brush, hee has put my hat +quite out of fashion. + +_Host_. That shall ye sir, a brush there, hoe! + + _Enter[237] Boss, with the dog_. + +_Bos_. _Salve, sis salvus_. I pray yee which of you five is Hostis of +this house? + +_Boy_. That's easily discernd, for foure weare breeches. + +_Bos_. Nere the sooner for that, my diminitive youth, for women now +adaies weare breeches as well as men; mary, the difference lies in the +bawble. + +_Hostis_. Well, sir, to open the truth, I am the Hostesse. + +_Bos_. The fruit is known, by the Tree at the first view, as the Author +writes, learnedly; come _basilus manus_.[238] + +_Scil_. This kissing becomes a Gentleman, ile use it sure.[239] + +_Bos_. Secondly, Mistris Hostesse, I would know what lodging ye have for +my Lady and her traine. + +_Hostis_. What will serve your turne, sir? + +_Bos_. Ile call my selfe to account and specifie thus: my Lady and her +Dogge, that's two visible; then there's the Dogge and my Lady, thats +four invisible; then there's my Ladies dogge and I, quoth the dogge, +that's six; then theres sequence of three, viz., the Dogge, and I, and +my Lady; then there's a pair of Knaves, viz., the Dogge & my selfe & my +Lady turnd up; viz., my Lady sequence of three, a paire of Knaves and my +Lady, turn'd up to play upon:--we can have no less than five beds. + +_Hostis_. Truely you must lye close together (the Servants I meane), for +I am so thrust with Guest I [c]an hardly spare so many. + +_Bos_. Faith, weele lie together as close as we can; there's my Lady and +her dogge lye al together and I at the bed's feete, and theres all our +family of Love.[240] + +_Hostis_. How farre is your mistris behinde? + +_Bos_. The truth is the fatall sisters have cut the thred of her +Cork-shoe, & shee's stept aside in to a Coblers shop to take a true +stitch, whether I mean to send myself as a Court of Guard to conduct +her, but see, oh inconstant fortune! see where she comes, _solus_. + + _Enter[241] Getica_. + +_Gent_. _Bos_, you serve me well, to let me wait upon my selfe. + +_Bos_. Of two evils, the least is to be chosen, I had a care of your +puppie being less then your selfe. + +_Scil_. Gentlewoman, you have an excellent Ch: [sic] I have an appetite +as a man would say. + +_Gent_. Whats your will, sir? + +_Scil_. Truth will to light, and the truth is I have an appetite to +kisse you. + +_Phil_. This point would become a Gentleman, sure; I pray, who trim'd it +so? + +_Gent_. My man, forsooth. + +_Phy_. Sir, I desire your acquaintance; tis excellent, rare. + +_Gent_. You would have said so, had you seene it an houre since. + +_Ser_. Heeres game for me! I hunt for fooles and have sprung a covey. + +_Hostis_. Gentles, please you, draw neere? lead the way into the +chambers. + +_Bos_. _Bos_ is the name of a thing may be seene, felt, heard, or +understood, and the nominative case goes before my Mistris the Verbe; my +mistris requires an accusative case to follow, as _usus feminae proptus +facit_. + [_Exeunt al but Hostis_. + +_Hostis_. Oh fye upont, who would be an hostis, & could do otherwise? +[A] Ladie [h]as the most lascivious life, conges and kisses, the tyre, +the hood, the rebato, the loose bodyed Gowne, the pin in the haire, and +everie day change, when an Hostis must come and go at everye mans +pleasure. And what's a Lady more then another body? Wee have legs, and +hands, rowling eyes and hanging lips, sleek browes, and cherie cheeks & +other things as Ladies have, but the fashion carries it away. + + _Prentices passe over_. [_Re-enter[242] Host_.] + +_Host_. There, there, my little Lacky boies, againe, again, my fine +fil-pots! where is my fine Hostis? come, come, my little _Dido_, set +your corks on a creaking, my knaves are unthrifty; dance not your +Canaries heere up & down, looke about to my Guests I say. + +_Hostis_. I, I have much joy, an Hostesse! + +_Host_. What, abides my _Penelope_? heere stand[s] thy _Ulisses_, +ile tarry with thee still, thou shall want for no cost. Ile buy thee +a brave wistle; looke about to my Guestes, I say. + +_Hostis_. I, Hostesses will bee knowne shortelye as their Signes; still +in one weather-beaten suite, as though none weare hoodes but Monkes and +Ladies, and feathers but fore-horses and Waiting Gentlewomen, or chaines +but prisoners and Courtiers; no Perywigges but Players and Pictures: but +the weakest must to the wall still. + +_Host_. Tush, tush, these are toies; ile none of these Flipflaps, ile +have no soping, no puffs, nor no Cobwebs, no busks, nor bumbarrels;[243] +thou shalt weare thine own haire & fine cloath of Sheep-skins, thy +colour shall be Dowlas as white as a Lillie, ile kisse these +chop-cheries; thou shalt goe Gossip at Shrovetide; look about to my +Guests then. [_Exit_. + +_Hostis_. I, twas my hard fortune to be an Hostesse; time was I might +have done other wise. + + _Enter Cittizens Wife_. + +_City W_. Why how now, woman, a'th olde disease still? will it never be +better? cannot a Woman finde one kinde man amongst twentie? Ah the daies +I have seen, when a Womans will was a lawe: If I had a mind to such a +thing, or such a thing, I could have had it, but twa's never better +since men were Purse-bearers. + +_Hosty_. Mine is een the unnaturallist man to his Wife. + +_Citie wi_. Truely, and commonly are all such fat men: ile tell thee, +Gossip, I have buried sixe, I, sixe husbands, but if I should live to +have as many more, as I know not what may happen, but sure Ide never +have such a fatte man: they be the most unweldey men; that woman[244] +shall not want a sore stomack, that's troubled with them I warrant her. + +_Hosty_. And hee maintaines me heare like I knowe not what. + +_City wi_. I, and what say, they are their wives head; well if he be the +head, shee's the body, and the body is to beare the head, and the body +is to beare the pursse. + +_Hostis_. They cannot misse us, yet they regard us not. + +_Citty wife_. Misse us! no faith, but would all women were of my minde, +they call us weaker vessels, they should finde vessels of us, but no +weake vessels, I warrant them. + + _Enter[245] Prentice_. + +_Pren_. Mistris, my Maister cals for ye. + +_Hostis_. Goe, ile come anon, hees not so hastie to give me what I want, +I warrant ye. + + [_Exit[245] Prentice_. + +_City w_. No, would he were; little thinkes the husband what goes +through the wives hand, washing, wringing, and rubbing, up early, down +late, & a thousand things they looke not too. + +_Hostis_. And yet they must have the government of all. + +_City w_. And great reason they have for it, but a wise man will put in +a Woman's hand: what sheele save that hee spends. + +_Hostis_. You have a pretty Ruffe, how deepe is it? + +_City w_. Nay, this is but shallowe, marrie I have a Ruffe is a quarter +deepe, measured by the yard. + +_Hostis_. Indeede, by the yard. + +_City w_. By the standard: you have a pretty set too, how big is the +steele you set it with? + +_Hostis_. As bigge as a reasonable sufficient-- + + _Enter Prentice_. + +_Pren_. Mistris, my Maister would desire you to come in. + +_Citty w_. What? she shall not come yet: if you lay down the bucklers, +you lose the victorie. + +_Hostis_. By my troth, I must goe, we shall have such a coyle else. + +_Cittie w_. A coyle! why, have you not a tongue in your head? faith if +ye win not all at that weapon, yee are not worthy to be a woman. You +heare not the news abroade? + +_Hostis_. No: what newes? + +_City W_. No, I warrant ye, you never come abroad; this is to be +troubled with a fatte man, he never comes abroad himself nor suffers his +wife out of his sight: yee shall ever have a fatte Host either on his +bench at the dore or in his chair at the chimney; & there he spits and +spaules a roome like twentie Tobacco-takers. Oh! fye on them, beasts! + +_Hostis_. I prethee, what newes? + +_Citty w_. Oh! woman, the most hardfavoured newes, and without all +conscience: they say theres a statute made, any woman that buries her +husband is not to marrie againe of two monthes after. + +_Hostis_. A tedious time, by Lady; a month were enough. + +_Cittie w_. I, halfe a month; winter nights are long and colde. Ile tell +ye, I have buried sixe, and thank my good fortune I ever knewe the next +ere the other was in his winding sheete. + +_Pre_. Mistris, my maister is angrie, and the Guests cal for their +Hostesse. + +_Hostis_. Goe, I come: Gossip, when shall I see you agen? + +_Citty w_. Nay, when shall I see you abroad? sildome, i'me sure. + +_Hostis_. I must needes away; God buy you, Gossip. + +_Cittie w_. God buy ye; Gods so, I have forgot wherefore I came: a word +ere you goe, the party yee wott on commends him unto ye, he that met the +other party in the white felt, the yellow scarf, and the round +_Venetian_,[246] when the other party kis't you, and I broake the jest +on him, when hee said kisses kindeles Coules and love searches. + +_Hostis_. Oh! I remember him, yes faith, hee's prettie well set; hee +ha's the right trick with the tongue in his kisse, and hee dances +reasonably comely, but he fals heavie. + +_Citty w_. He savours of a kinde of Gallant, but not of a Courtyer. + +_Hostis_. Well weele have a night out, god be with ye, Gossip. + +_Cittie wife_. God buy ye. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +[ACT THE SECOND. + +_Scene 1_.] + + + _Enter Lentulus and Tulley_. + +_Lentu_. Not yours nor her owne, _Terentia_.--Yours in modestie, _Flavia_. +See, _Tulley_, what an active passive love hath plaide; +I love and am again beloved, but at the shrine +Where I do offer up my Cordiall sacrifice, +I am returnd with peremptorie scorne; +And where I stand but as a gazer, viewing +All alike, I am pursude +With violent passions, a speaking eye +Bindes favours and now discovering lines.[247] +Thy counsell now, deere friend; for at thy direction +Stands my thrall or freedome. + +_Tul_. Oh my Lord, affection is unlimited, +Daring all dangers, having no tipe nor figure, +Beyond all arte. +Then tye not that (Great Lord,) to _Tullies_ awe; +Fancy forswears all reason, love all lawe. + +_Lent_. How well thy power can shun that which +I followe with obedience. Too true yfaith; +Thou mightst as well put out the eie of day, +Or cover sinne from heaven, or to erect +A towre of sand on the uncertain surge, +Or any thing that were more inficient, +Then to remoove one doting thought of mine +From her disdain. Thy aide, deere _Tulley_, +Be thou an Orratour for _Lentulus_, +My tongue stands tun[e]d to a harsher method; +Breath in her eares, those Organs of receite, +A quintessence distild of honny words, +And charme with a beguiling lullabye +Her free consent to thine and my request: +Which done, thats done which is my sole delight, +Which done, thats done that I can never quite. + +_Tull_. All which to me are problematique mines, +Obscurde inigmaes, and to my studies +Incognite Language; yet, if my powers +Have power to cloath my tongue in love, +Ile be a Lover and in love so pleade +As if that _Tully_ loved _Terentia_. + +_Lent_. Thanks, sweete _Cicero_; +This day we dine with olde _Flaminius_, +The forward Father of my Aukeward love. +His willing minde doth strive to make the peace +Betwixt our discord thoughts; his free consent +Is given to _Lentulus_; there, _Tulley_, take on holde, +And, when a Sunne of thy intent shines fayre, +Onset loves fort with polliticke assaults +And conquer; conquest in obtaining that +Where victors are repulsed. But see! our talke +Hath over-tane our way; see, olde _Flaminius_ +Comes to welcome us. +With him a looke like[248] the bright orient verge +At the uprising of _Auroraes_ shine. + + _Enter Flaminius, Terentia, and Flavia_. + +_Flam_. And, my good Lorde, y'are happily met. Heartily welcome; young +_Tullie_, welcome to; yee come wel to ease my charge, these Ladies find +fault with their Guardian, I goe too softly for them: old blood is +stiffe, & young Ladies will not beare with age; I resigne, I resigne, to +you that followe. + +_Lent_. If they admit us for their Guardian, +Weele dare dangers ere we part from them. + +_Flam_. Why well saide, my Lords, Soldiers will not flye indeede; I have +seene the day, I could have crackt a tree of yew, made my bowstring +whisper in mine eare in[249] the twang, tost my pike lustilye. Tis since +the siedge of _Parthia_: bith-'mas a great while; I was lustie then at +the service was done there, yet I love the discourse. Come my Lord, I +chuse your companye, leave _Tulley_ to the Ladies; he can tell them +tales of _Venus_ and _Adonis_ and that best pleaseth them. Now I must +heere of raps and blowes, and Bils and Guns, and swords and bucklers. I +loved it once; come, our Cookes are backeward, discourse will beget +stomacks; y'are like to tarrie long for leane Cates. [_Exit_. + +_Lent_. Now, gentle _Tulley_, advocate my suite; +Her fore-amazing person makes me mute. + +_Cicero_. He beare these Ladies company if they +Shall deeme acceptance. [_Exit_. + +_Teren_. With interest of thankes to Cicero. + +_Flav_. Faith, I like not this ods of female, an equallitie were better: +yet of both twere fitter the woman should undergoe the oddes. I had +rather a said three men to one woman, then two women to one man. Heeres +_Tulley_ addrest to _Terentia, Terentia_ drawing neere to _Tulley_; +her's smal comfot [_sic_] left for _Flavia_. Wel, gentles, ile leave ye +to the Goddesse. So ho! my Lords, take me with ye. + +_Teren_. Nay stay, good _Flavia_. Youle not loose the sight of +_Lentulus_. + +_Fla_. Nor you of _Tulley_; come, if you tel, ile blab. + +_Cice_. But, sweete Lady, _Tulley_ is not heere. + +_Fla_. But _Cicero_ is, his neere friend, thats as good. + +_Cice_. He was, Lady, till hee changed his habit by putting on the +office of an unskillful Servingman, intending to garde _Terentia_ to her +father's house. + +_Fla_. Then _Flavia_ must gard her self; wel use good words and good +action, and stalke well before your Ladie; she's kinde, yfaith, and a +little thing will please her. + +_Ter_. Will it please _Flavia_ to partake? + +_Fla_. Oh fye! twere an injurie I could [not] brook myself, therefore +ile leave ye; but be breefe, stand not on pointes, cut them all first; & +if ye fall to kissing, kisse not too long for feare ye kisse the post. + +_Teren_. Goe to, youle still be a wagge, _Flavia_. +But what saies _Tulley_ to _Terentia_? + + [_Exit_[250] _Flavia_. + +_Cicero_. Lady I must maintain my former argument. +_Tullie's_ not heere but heere is _Tullies_ friend; +For, ere I speake, I must intreate you wil +Transforme poore _Tulley_ into _Lentulus_. + +_Teren_. I have no power of Metamorphosing; +If _Tulley_ be not heere, you must concede,[251] +I cannot make of _Tulley Lentulus_. + +_Cice_. Nor can the world make _Cicero_ so worthy. +Yet for an houre['s] discourse a Pesant's shape +May represent the person of a king; +Then in the person of the great _Lentulus_ +I doe salute Sunne-bright _Terentia_. +Lady, vouchsafe a Saint-like smile on him +(From that angell forme) whose honord minde +Lies prostrate lowly at _Terentia's_ feete; +Who hath put off a Golden victors honour +And left the _Parthyan_ spoyle to _Lepido_; +Whome many Ladies have bedecked with favours +Of rich esteeme, oh proud he deignd to weare them, +Yet guiftes and givers hee did slight esteeme; +For why? the purpose of his thoughts were bent +To seek the love of faire _Terentia_. +The cho[i]ce is such as choiser cannot bee +Even with a nimble eye; his vertues through +His smile is like the Meridian Sol +Discern'd a dauncing in the burbling brook; +His frowne out-dares the Austerest face +Of warre or Tyranny to sease upon; +His shape might force the Virgine huntresse +With him for ever live a vestall life; +His minde is virtues over-matcht, yet this +And more shall dye if this and more want force +To win the love of faire _Terentia_. +Then, gentle Lady, give a gentle do[o]me; +Never was brest the Land-lord to a heart +More loving, faithful, or more loyall then is +The brest of noble-- + +_Teren_. _Tullie_! + +_Tul_. _Lentulus_! + +_Ter_. And why not _Tullie_? + +_Tul_. It stands not aptly. + +_Tere_. I wants a sillible. + +_Tul_. It doth. + +_Tere_. Then noble _Cicero_. + +_Tul_. Thats too deere. + +_Tere_. Gentle is as good: +Then say the best of gentle _Cicero_. + +_Tul_. Good Lady, wrong not your honour so +To seate unworthy _Tully_ with your worth. +Oh looke upon the worth of _Lentulus_, +Let your faire hand be beame unto the ballance +And with a stedded peyze lift up that beame. +In th'one[252] scale put the worth of _Lentulus_, +His state, his honors, and his revenewes; +Against that heavy waite put povertie, +The poore and naked name of _Cicero_, +A partner of unregarded Orators; +Then shall you see with what celeritie +One title of his worth will soone pull up +Poore _Tullies_ dignitie. + +_Tere_. Just to the height of _Terentias_ heart +Where I will keepe and Character that name, +And to that name my heart shall adde that love +That shall wey downe the worth of _Lentulus_. + +_Tul_. Deare Madam. + +_Tere_. Speake still, if thou wilt, but not for him; +The more thou speak'st the more augments my love, +If that thou can'st adde more to infinite; +The more thou speakest the more decreaseth his, +If thou canst take away ought from nothing; +Thinke, _Tulley_, if _Lentulus_ can love me, +So much and more _Terentia_ doth love thee. + +_Tull_. Oh Madam, +_Tulley_ is poore, and poore is counted base. + +_Ter_. Vertue is ritch and blots a poore disgrace. + +_Tul_. _Lentulus_ is great, his frowne's my woe, +And of a friend he will become my foe. + +_Ter_. As he is friend, we will intreate his love; +As he is great, his threatenings shall not make me love. + +_Tul_. Your fathers graunt makes _Lentulus_ your Lord. + +_Teren_. But if thereto his daughter not accord, +That graunt is cancel'd; fathers may commaund +Life before love, for life to true love's paund. + +_Tul_. How will _Flaminius_ brooke my povertie? + +_Ter_. Well, when _Flaminius_ see's no remedie. +Lord how woman-like are men when they are woe'd! +_Tully_, weigh me not light, nere did immodest blush +Colour these cheeckes, but ardent. + +_Tully_. Silence, sweet Lady, heere comes _Flavia_. + + _Enter_[253] _Flavia_. + +_Fla_. Fie, Fie, how tedius ye are; yonders great looking for _Tulley_, +the old senate has put on his spectacles, and _Lentulus_ and he are +turning the leaves of a dog-hay [?], leaves of a worm-eaten Chronicle, +and they want _Tullies_ judgment. + +_Tul_. About what, sweet Lady? + +_Fla_. To know what yeare it was the showers of raine fell in Aprill. + +_Tul_. I can resolve it by rote, Lady, twas that yeare the Cuckoo sung +in May: another token Lady; there raigned in Rome a great Tyrant that +yeare, and many Maides lost their heads for using flesh on Fish-daies. + +_Fla_. And some were sacrificed as a burnt offering to the Gods of +Hospitallitie, were they not? + +_Tul_. Y'are a wag, _Flavia_, but talk and you must needes have a +parting blowe. + +_Flav_. No matter so we stand out and close not. + +_Tull_. Or part faire at the close and too't again. + +_Flav_. Nay, if we should too't againe, _Terentia_ would growe jealous. + +_Tul_. Ladies, I take my leave +And my love. + +_Ter_. Take heede ye sigh not, nor looke red at the table, _Tully_. + + [_Exit [Tully]_. + +_Flav_. Your shoe wrings you, Lady. + +_Ter_. Goe to, ye are a wanton, _Flavia_. + +_Fla_. How now _Terentia_, in your nine Muses? +Theres none must pleade in your case but an Orator. + +_Ter_. I want one indeede Wench, but thou hast two, and the gentle +destinies may send thee three; neere blush, for smoke and the fire of +a womans love cannot bee hid. Oh a fine tongue dipt in _Helicon_! a +comedian tongue is the onely perswasive ornament to win a Lady; why his +discourse is as pleasant-- + +_Fla_. As how, I prethee? + +_Ter_. And keepes as good decorum; his prologue with obedience to the +skirt; a rough Sceane of ciuill Warres and a clapping conclusion; +perhappes a Jigge;[254] if not, the Tragicomicall tale of _Mars_ and +_Venus_; then must she take the Tale by the end, where he defending +_Mars_, & she _Venus_, must fall from billing to byting, from byting to +blowes, to get the supremacie. + +_Fla_. A good policie to praise _Cicero_, +For feare I rob you of your _Lentulus_. + +_Ter_. Faith, a Souldier is not for thy[255] humor; now I crie a +Warrier; he fights stoutly in a field-bed, discharges his work sure, +under his Curtaines would I fight. But come, our Lovers melt while we +meditate; thou for thy Scholler, I for my soldier; and if we can not +please them so, weele shake off this loose habit and turn Pages to suit +their humors. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +[Scene 2.] + + + _Enter Accutus and Graccus_. + +_Grac_. Come, _Accutus_, discharge your follower; lets leave rubbing a +while, since the byas runs so much the wrong way. Sirra! these bowles +which we roule and turn in our lower sypher are by use made wodden +worldlings right, for every one strives who shall lye neerest the +mistris.[256] + +_Ac_. They post indeed, as their nature is, in an even way, but they are +cowards, theile abide no danger, they rub at everie mole-hil; if they +tyre in going up a hill, they retire and come back againe. + +_Grac_. Well let them alley, bet all, then to rest away, begone. + +_Acut_.[257] S'foote _Graccus_, heeres a couple of our old gamsters. Oh! +for quick conceite to beget a jest! heeres two, that either a man must +be aquainted or quarrell with, & of two evils ile chose the latter; I +hope I make it the lesser. If I should be acquainted, the foole will +haunt me, if I quarrell I may be so blest, as to be rid of a foole. + +_Grac_. I have a womans wit for a suddaine stratageme. + + _Enter Scil. and Servulis_.[258] + +_Scil_. No, by my troth, by this bright horrison-- + +_Accut_. An excellent Cuckoo, hee keepes his note in Winter. + +_Scil_. I haue no appetite at all to live in the countrie any more; now, +as they say, I have got a smacke on the Cittie. Slid, I thinke (as the +proverbe goes) I was wrapt in my mother's smocke the day I was begotten, +I thank the Goddesse _Cupid_ for it. I am so favourd of the Women, my +hostes loves me execrably. + +_Accut_. Good reason, fooles make good sport. + +_Grac_. Sever, sever, ere wee bee discovered. + +_Ser_. Sir, the respective regard of your well governed partes do +challenge a mellifluous species of enduement or contumelious estimation. + +_Grac_. Gentles, God save ye, well over-taken Gallants. + +_Scil_. Welcome, by the welkin. + +_Grac_. This is verie pleasant weather. + +_Ser_. Sir the ayre is frugall. + +_Grac_. Is that Gentleman of your Company? + +_Scil_. Our company sir, no, we are no companions for lame Souldiers. + +_Grac_. Propper man, pittie he is so regardles. A good legge, it seemes +he has some greefe in it. + +_Scil_. Nay, and he be lame, ile talke to him; there's so many lustie +knaves walkes now a daies will not sticke to give a man hard words, if +he be not disposed to charitie. Harke ye sir, I understand ye are a +propper man, and that you have a good legge. + +_Accut_. And what of that, Sir? + +_Scil_. What of that! slid, he answers me like a sturdie beggar +alreadie! by the five elements, or sences, I aske ye for no hurt, ile +bestowe my charitie as franke as-- + +_Acut_. Stoope and looke out, zounds a Gentleman cannot come by a +misfortune in service or so, but everie foole wil ride him. Take that. + [_Exit_. + +_Gra_. Sirra, stay, ile combat thee in his defence. + +_Serv_. Sir, be pacifical, the impotent must be lightly regarded. + +_Grac_. Give me leave Gentlemen, ile follow him. + +_Scil_. Nay, I pray you be malcontented, I have no great hurt, but in +revenge hee's a rascall for using me so; he may thank God, discretion +governed me, tis wel known I have always bene a man of peace; ile not +strike yee the least mouse in anger, nor hurt the poorest Conney that +goes in the street, for I know of fighting comes quarrelling, of +quarrelling comes brawling, and of brawling growes hard words, and as +the learned _puerelis_[259] writes, tis good sleeping in a whole skin. + +_Grac_. Sir, your discretion shall governe me at this time. Your name, I +pray ye sir? + +_Scil_. My name is signior _Scillicet_. + +_Grac_. Even so sir? nay, sir, I doe not forget your Argument. + + _Enter Accutus_. + +_Acut_. Save ye, sir, saw ye not a Gentleman come this way even now, +somewhat hurt in one of his Legges? + +_Scil_. He went by even now, sir; is he a friend of yours? + +_Acu_. A deare friend, and a propper Gentleman, sir. + +_Scil_. By the horison hee's a propper man indeede, he gave me the time +of day as he went by, I have a gallon of wine for him at any time. If ye +see anything in me worth Commendations, I pray ye commend me to him. + +_Acut_. I will sir;--twere best you gave me good words, but ile trie ye +farther yet;--fare ye well, sir. + +_Scil_. I pray you remember me to him.--You see my anger is over +already. [_Exit[260] Acutus_. + +_Grac_. Would ye not strike him? lets followe. + +_Scil_. Indeede ye shall not, I hate it. + +_Ser_. I will not be barren of my armorie, in my future perambulation +for the lower element. + +_Grac_. You are too patient in wrongs, sir.--Zoundes I know not how to +picke a quarrell. + +_Serv_. Sir, the grievous youth is inwardlye possest of a supple spirit, +he can brooke impugnying, but tis adverse to my spirit if I were armed. + + _Enter Accutus_. + +_Accut_. Save ye, gallants, sawe ye not a fellowe come halting this way +of late? + +_Scil_. Hath he done any hurt, or is hee a friend of yours? + +_Acut_. Hee's a Rascall and ile maintaine him so. + +_Scil_. Hee's a verie Rascall indeede, and he used mee like a knave: if +ere I meete him, I shall hardly put it up; I have it in blacke and blue +to shew heere. + +_Serv_. Say, I breath defyance to his front. + +_Acut_. Challenge him the field. + +_Scil_. Doos't thinke heele answere me? I'l challenge him at the +pich-fork, or the Flaile, or ile wrastle a fall with him for a bloody +nose; anye weapon I have bene brought up in ile-- + +_Accut_. What will ye? heere he is, you minime, that will be friend with +friends and foe with foes; and you that will defie _Hercules_, and +out-brave _Mars_ and feares not the Devil; passe, bladder, ile make ye +swell. + +_Scil_. By Gods-lid, if I had knowne it had bene you, I would not have +said so to your face. + [_Exeunt_. + +_Accut_. Away, with your Champion, goe. + +_Grac_. This was excellentlye performed, ifaith a better breathing then +a game at bowles. + +_Accut_. Theile give you the good salve at any time this month, for I am +sure they have salving enough for so long. + +_Grac_. I pittie the foole yfaith, but the tother Horseleach I wish his +blowes trebled. I converst with him, but a Rogue so stuft with the +lybrary of new minted[261] words, so tearing the sence, I never met +with. + +_Accut_. But now we have spoilde our determinate dinner at my hostesse +of the Hobbye; we shall nowe bee knowne. + +_Grac_. That holds well still, I am taken for a prooved friend, and thou +shalt be disguised, till, I have wrought a league by vertue of a pottle +of Canarie. + +_Acut_. Content, mine Host shall be accessarie and ile be a serviter to +observe myracles. + +_Grac_. They are good subjects for idle houres:--but soft, what second +course is entring heere? + + _Enter Phy., Bos, and Boy_. + +_Phy_. _For I did but kisse her; Bos_, how lik'st thou my relish? + +_Bos_. Oh sir, relish but your licour, as you doe your song, you may goe +drunke to bed any day in the weeke. + +_Phy_. _Sister_,[262] _awake, close not, &c_. Does my face hold colour +still? + +_Bos_. I, and you would but scaviage the pavilion of your nose. + +_Gra_. I, marrie, _Accutus_, how lik'st thou this Gentlewoman Gallant? + +_Accut_. A good states-man, for common-wealth of Brownists; the Rogue +hates a Church like the Counter. + +_Gra_. I, and if my Ladie Argentile were dead, he wold rather live upon +almes then fall to worke. + +_Accut_. So he might have tolleration.--What, shal's close with them? + +_Gra_. In any case, but in some mild imbrace, for if we should continue +thus rough, we should be shunned like an Appoplex. + +_Accut_. Gallants, the fortune of the day runs with ye: what all at +mumchance?[263] how is't? how is't? + +_Phy_. Sir, I think twas you bestowed some abuse of me tother day. + +_Accu_. Which I would wipe out of your memorie +With satisfaction of a double courtesie. + +_Phy_. I accept it ifaith, sir, I am not prone to anger, I assure ye the +following night knew not my anger. Your acquaintance, Signior. + +_Gra_. Fye, without ceremony lets yoake this triplicity as we did in the +daies of olde, with mirth and melody. + +_Phy_. I, say you? so then _Coll_[264] _her and clip her and kisse her, +too, &c_. + +_Bos_. The triplicitie! heere's those has supt at an ordinarie. + +_Accu_. This gallant humors. + +_Gra_. But the other walkes aloofe. + +_Bos_. The triplicite! heere's those has crackt glasses and drawn blood +of a Tapster. + +_Gra_. The visitation of your hand, sir. + +_Bos_. The Triplicitie! will colours change? + +_Acut_. Sir, take no offence, I beseech ye, we gave onlye satisfaction +for an olde injurie, but in the degree of amitie your selfe sits in the +superlative. + +_Bos_. No sir, but in respect. + +_Gra_. What kinde is your Dogge of, sir? + +_Bos_. Verie kinde to anything but his meat, that hee devours with great +alacritie. + +_Grac_. Where was he bred? + +_Bos_. In a Bitch. + +_Gra_. What Countrie? + +_Bos_. A kind of Mungrill, he will carrie but not fetch, marrie hee is +to be put to a dauncing schoole for instruction. + +_Acut_. The tricke of the rope were excellent in him, & that ile teach +him, if I misse not my mark. Come, Gallants, we waste time, the first +Taverne we arrive at weel see the race of an houre-glasse. + +_Phy_. Can ye a part in a Song? + +_Gra_. Verie tollerably. + +_Phy_. Weele have a catch then, if with sol, sol, la: Gentlemen have you +any good herbe? you have match, boy. + +_Boy_. Your pipe shall want no fire sir. + +_Acut_. Oh, without ceremony: now, _Graccus_, if we can but pawne their +senses in Sack and Sugar, let mee alone to pursue the sequell. + +_Gra_. Follow it away. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +[_Scene_ 3.] + + + _Enter Hostis, Cittizens wife, Servulus, and Scillicet_. + +_Hostis_. Come, come, bring them out of the ayre: alas good hearts, what +rogorous villaine would commit with him? ile tell ye Gosip, hee's eene +as kinde an animall, he would not wrong them y'faith. + +_Citty wife_. Tush, feare nothing woman, I hope to make him so again. +Alacke, alacke, how fell you out all a head?[265] Oh Butcher! are ye +hurt in another place? + +_Hostis_. Did he not throw you against the stones? If he did, doe not +conceale, I dare say you gave them not a foule word. + +_Scil_. By the illuminate welkin not a word till my mouth was full of +blood, and so made my words foule. + +_Citty wife_. Is not this Gentleman hurt too? + +_Serv_. Onelye the extravagant Artire[266] of my arme is brused. + +_Cittie wi_. See, see, the extravagant of his arme is brused to. Alas, +how could ye quarrell so? + +_Serv_. I will demonstrate: in the defence of the generous youth I did +appugne my adverse, let violently flie. + +_Cittie wife_. Ah good hearts! would I had stood between you, when he +let flie so violently. + +_Ser_. We voide of hostile armes. + +_Hostis_. I, if they had had horses, they had sav'd their armes. + +_Serv_. Be capable, I meane, void of armorie. + +_Citty-wife_. Untill ye had armor on. + +_Serv_. Had I bene accompanied, with my Toledo or morglay.[267] + +_Cittie wife_. I, your Dogge or Bitch. + +_Serv_. Continue, I beseech, I meane my sword, sole lye my sword. + +_Cittie wife_. Or solely your sword, better a bad toole then none +at all. + +_Serv_. In the concourse-- + +_Cittie w_. Nay, the concourse will light on him for it, I warrant. + +_Serv_. I, for the tuition of my Capitall, did mount my Semisphere, +three degrees, that as a strong, & stony guard did defend my Capitall. + +_Citty w_. Twas well ye kept him out, for if he had entered on your +stony Guard, he would have spoilede your Capitall. + +_Serv_. In fine, being mortally assaild, he did preambulate [_sic_] or +walk off. + +_Scil_. Yes, faith, he did preambulate, and walke mee finely. + +_Cittie w_. Good heartes, how many were there of them? + +_Serv_. About the number of seaven. + +_Scil_. I, there was seaven. + +_Serv_. Or eight. + +_Scil_. Or eight. + +_Serv_. Rather more. + +_Citty w_. I, more at least, I warrant ye. + +_Hostis_. Alasse ye cannot chuse but be more hurt, but ile search you +throughly, be assured. + +_Citty w_. And if she cannot helpe ye fewe can; shee knowes what belongs +to a Tent,[268] or a bruse, and experience is good in those cases. + +_Serv_. I have a concupiscent forme of trust in your skil, it will +malladise. + +_Citty wi_. I, feare not, put both your concupisences in me for that +matter. + +_Serv_. The generous will disburse coynage for satisfaction of your +metaphisicall endevour. + +_Scil_. Yes, yes, I will discharge all. + +_Cittie wife_. Wee make no doubt of that; come into a chamber, ye shall +lye downe awhile; perhaps youle bee stiffe anon, then you shall use your +legges, the more you strive with it the better. Alas, good hearts! + + [_Exeunt_. + +_Phy_. Sol, sol, la! Tapster, give attendance! Gentlemen, I hope all we +are friends, the welkin is skie colour still, and men must grow by +degrees; you must pardon me, I must sp--speak my minde. + +_Grac_. The uttermost of your minde at this time cannot be offensive. + +_Phy_. _The fryer was in the_--sol, sol, draw the tother quart. I hope +you are not angrie gallants; and ye come to my lodging, ye shall be +welcome; my Hostes shall bid you welcome, shee's a good wench; if I say +the word, she wil fa--fullfill it. + +_Acut_. Sirra drawer, for the other thats a sleepe; let him so remaine; +for the Dog, let him be bound to a post for his appearance, till I take +order for his undooing. + +_Draw_. The foole and the Dogge shall both take rest at your commaund, +Sir. + +_Phy_. Gentlemen, I hope we are all friends: sol, sol, shal's have a +catch? + +_Grac_. I, come, come, everie one catch a part. [_Sing_. + +_Phy_. Hey good boies ifaith, now a three man's song, or the olde _downe +a downe_; well things must be as they may, fils the other quart; +muskadine,[269] with an egg is fine, there's a time for all things. +_Bonos nocthus_.[270] [_Sleepe_. + +_Grac_. Good night to you sirs. + +_Accut_. So now, _Graccus_, see what a polluted lumpe, +A deformed _Chaos_ of unsteddy earth +Man is, being in this ill kinde unmand seeming somthing +Bestial man, brutish animall. Well tis thus decreede, +He shall be what he seemes, that's deade. +For what in him shows life but a breathing ayre? +Which by a free constraint it self ingenders +In things without life, as twixt a pair of bellowes +We feele a forcible aire, having of it self +Force and being, no more is this breathing block +But for his use in kinde.--Give out in some bursse or congregation +Among the multitude _Philautus_[271] death. +Let all the customarie rights of funerall, +His knell or what else, be solemnly observed. +Ile take order for his winding sheete, +And further, to furnish it with further suertie, +Ile have a potion that for twentie houres +Shall quench the motion of his breath. Goe, spread, +Let me alone to effect it. + +_Gra_. Ile sow it, I warrant thee; thou talkst of bursse,--I have a way +worth ten on't, ile first give it out in my Barbers shop, then at my +ordinarie, and that's as good as abroad; and as I cross _Tiber_ my +waterman shall attach it, heele send it away with the tide, then let it +come out to an Oyster wenches eare, and sheele crie it up and down the +streetes. + +_Acut_. Let's first secure him from eyes, and at night he shall be +portered to our chamber; so, now away. + +_Grac_. Oh a couple that would spred rarely,[272] lets give it for loves +sake. + + _Enter Hostis and Cittizens wife_. + +_Acut_. Call, call. + +_Grac_. Hem, hem. + +_Citty wife_. A pox on your hemmings, do you think we care for your +hemmings? + +_Hostis_. Tis some stinking troublesome knave, I warrant ye. + +_Citty wife_. Hang him, regard him not; theres hemming indeede, like a +Cat, God blesse us, with a burre in her throate. + [_Exeunt_ + +_Grac_. S'hart, how we are ript up for this? + +_Ac_. Oh man, this hemming is the most hatefulst thing, theres not the +most publique punck,[273] nor worm-eaten bawd that can abide it, and +honestie would run madde to heare it. But come we waste time, tis now +about the mid of day; we must sowe arithmatike by the houres, that +at[274] the morrowes highth _Philautus_ awake again, at which time he +shall be on his Hearse, and all the Guestes of the Hobbye invited to +accompany his ghost, when being awake, himselfe and all shall see if +drunkenesse be not mad misterie. + +_Grac_. But I prethee, practise some milder behaviour at the ordinarie, +be not al madman. + +_Acut_. Push,[275] ile bee all observative, and yet ifaith I grieve to +see this double garded[276] age, all side-coate, all foole. Fye thou +keepest the sports from the marke; away, and returne. What newes is now +in progresse. + +_Grac_. I have the newest. _Terentia_, Daughter to the olde Senate, +thogh _Lentulus_ left the field to come to her, yet she hath forsaken +him in the open field, and shee's for our young Oratour, _Tully_; she +has vowd by _Venus_ legge and the little God of Love, he shall be her +captaine; sheele serve under him, till death us depart,[277] and +thereto, I plight thee my troth. + +_Acut_. More Ladies _Terentias_, I crie still, +That prise a saint before a Silken foole. +She that loves true learning and pomp disdaines +Treads on _Tartarus_ and _Olimpus_ gaines. + +_Grac_. I, marrie, but then would learning be in colours, proud, proud; +then would not foure nobles purchase a benefice, two Sermons in a yeare. + +_Accut_. I, _Graccus,_ now thou hitst the finger right +Upon the shoulder of Ingratitude. +Thou hast clapt an action of flat felony; +Now, ill betide that partiall judgement +That doomes a farmers rich adultus +To the supremacie of a Deanrie, +When needie, yet true grounded Discipline, +Is govern'd with a threed bare Vycarage. + +_Grac_. I, thou speakst well of their sides that are liberally overseene +in the sciences. I take no hold on't, but were all men of thy minde, +then would everie Schoole-maister bee a Senate, and there would never +come Cobler to be Constable againe. + +_Accut_. Ynough, ynough, _Graccus_, let silence seale up our secret +thoughts and libertie say, + + _Virtus sola summa gloria, + Quae format homines vero honore_. + + + + +[ACT THE THIRD. + +_Scene_ 1.] + + + _Enter Flaminius and Tully_. + +_Flam_. Goe to, I say, urge no more, tis Taverne talke, for Taverners +Table talke for all the vomit of rumor. What newes, saies one? none so +new as this: _Tully_ shall be married to _Terentia_. What newes says +another? the same, the same. Whose consent have ye? not mine, I deny it. +I must know of it, ile have a hand; goe to, no more. + +_Tul_. Gentle Sir, +Lay not a leaden loade of foule reproach +Upon so weake a prop; what's done is past recal. +If ought is done, unfitting to be done, +The worst is done, my life must answer it. + +_Flam_. I, you shall answer it in the Senate house, the Emperor shall +knowe it. If she be my childe, I will rule her, ile bridle her, ile +curbe her, ile raine her; if she will not, let her goe, starve, begge, +hang, drawe, sinke, swimme, she gets not a doit, a deneire, ile not owne +her. + +_Tul_. Reverend Sir, be more patient. + +_Flam_. I am impatient, I am troubled, I am vext, I am scoft, I am +pointed at, ile not endure it, ile not abide it, ile be revenged, I wil, +of her, of you both, proud boy, wanton giglot,[278] aspyring, hautie. +Knowe your equals, shee's not for ye, if ye persist, by my holy maker, +you shall answer it, looke to it, you shall, you shall indeede. + [_Exit_[279] _Flaminus_. + +_Tull_. I shall, I must, I will, I will indeede, +Even to the greatest I will answere it; +If great mens eares be ope to inocency, +If greatnesse be not partial with greatenesse, +Even to the greatest I will answere it. +Perhaps, some shallow censurer will say, +The Orator was proud, he would climbe too hie; +But heaven and truth will say the contrarie. +My greatest grief is, I have my friend betraide; +The treasons done, I, and the Traitor's free, +Yet innocent Treason needes not to flee. +His loyaltie bids me abide his frowne, +And he hath power to raise or hurle me downe. + + _Enter_[280] _Terentia_. + +_Tere_. What ailes my _Tully_? wherefore look'st thou sad? +What discontent hath stopped the crimson current +Which ran so cheerefully within that brow, +And makes it sullen like a standing poole? +Tell me who ist hath wrong[d] my _Cicero_? +[Say,[281] is it _Lentulus_?] + +_Tul_. Oh wrong him not. + +_Tere_. Who is it then, that wrongs my _Tully_ so? +What, hath _Terentia_ ought offended thee? +Doost thou recall my former promises? +Dost thou repent thee of-- + +_Tul_. Oh wrong me not. + +_Tere_. What, hath my father done this injurie? +There, there, my thoughts accord to say tis so. +I will deny him then, hee's not my father; +Hee's not my friend will envie _Cicero_. + +_Tul_. Wrong not thy self. + +_Teren_. What heavie string doost thou devide[282] upon? +Wrong not him, wrong not me, wrong not thy selfe. +Where didst thou learne that dolefull mandrake's note +To kill the hearers? _Tully_, canst thou not +Indure a little danger for my love, +The fierie spleene of an angrie Father, +Who like a storme will soon consume it self? +I have indurde a thousand jarring houres +Since first he did mistrust my fancies aime, +And will indure a thousand thousand more +If life or discord either live so long. + +_Tul_. The like will I for sweete _Terentia_. +Feare not, I have approoved armour on, +Will bide the brunt of popular reproach +Or whatsoever. + +_Tere_. Enough, _Tully,_ we are discovered. + + _Enter_[283] _Flavia_. + +_Fla_. Yfaith,[284] are ye at it? what, is there never a loving teare +shed on either side? nor you? nor you? _Tullies_ [eyes] are red, come, +come, ye fooles, be more breefe. I would have buried three husbands, +before youle be married. + +_Tul_. Why lives _Flavia_ a Virgin still? + +_Fla_. Because, I haue vow'd virginitie til I can get a husband. + +_Teren_. Why, _Flavia_, you haue many suitors. + +_Flav_. Oh, I am loaden with suitors; for indeede I am faine to beare +with any of them, I have a dumbe-shewe of all their pictures, each has +sent in his severall shadow, and I swear I had rather have them then the +substance of any of them. + +_Tul_. Can you not describe them in action? + +_Flav_. Yes, and their action; I have one honest man of the age of +fortie five, or there about, that traverses his ground three mile everie +morning to speake to mee, and when hee is come, after the saluting +ceremony, of 'how do you, Lady,' he falles to calculating the nativitie +of the Moone, prognosticating what faire weather will follow, if it +either snow or raine; sometime with a gentle pinche by the fingar +intermixed with the volley[285] of sighes, hee falles to discoursing of +the prise of pease, and that is as pleasing to me as a stinking breath. + +_Tul_. A good description. + +_Fla_. Another brings Letters of commendation from the Constable of the +Parish, or the Church-warden, of his good behaviour and bringing up, how +he could write and reade written hand; further desiring that his Father +would request my Father that his Fathers Sonne might marrie my Fathers +Daughter and heele make her a joynter of a hundred pound a yeare, and +beget three or foure fooles to boote. + +_Teren_. Better and better. + +_Tul_.[286] _Usus promptus [sic] facit; Faemina[e] ludificantur +viros_; well, forward. + +_Flav_.[287] I have another that I prise derer then the rest, a most +sweete youth, and if the wind stand with him I can smell him half a +mile ere hee come at me, indeede hee weares a Musk-cat--what call ye +it?--about him. + +_Tul_. What doe you call it? + +_Flav_. What ye will, but he smels better then burnt Rosemarie, as well +as a perfuming pan, and everie night after his first sleepe writes +lovesicke sonnets, railing against left handed fortune his foe,[288] +that suffers his sweet heart to frowne on him so. + +_Tul_. Then it seemes you graunt him no favour. + +_Flav_. Faith, I dare not venture on him, for feare he should be rotten; +give me nature, not arte. + +_Tere_. Here comes Lord _Lentulus_. + +_Tul_. Swift danger, now ride poaste through this passage. + + _Enter_[289] _Lentulus_. + +Health to your honour. + +_Len_. And happines to you. + +_Tul_. In[290] heaven, deere Lord, but-- + +_Lent_. Tush, tush, on earth; come, come, I know your suite, tis +graunted sure, what ere it be. + +_Tul_. My sute craves death, for treason to my friend. + +_Teren_. The Traitor lives while I have breath to spend, +Then let me die to satisfie your will. + +_Lent_. Neither, yfaith, kneele not, rise, rise, I pray; +You both confesse you have offended me? + +_Both_. We doe, we have. + +_Lent_. Then for this offence, be this your doome: +_Tulley_ must die, but not till fates decree +To cut your vital threed, or _Terentia_ +Finde in her heart to be your Deathes-man. + +_Flav_. Faith the Fates may doe as they may, but _Terentia_ will never +finde in her heart to kill him, sheele first burie him quick. + +_Len_. The like is doomde to faire _Terentia_. +How say you both, are yee content? + +_Teren_. My thoughts are plung'd in admiration. + +_Tul_. But can your honour burie such a wrong? + +_Len_. I can, I can; heere, _Tulley_, take _Terentia_, +Live many happie yeares in faithfull love. +This is no more then friendships lawes allow; +Thinke me thy self, another _Cicero_. + +_Flav_. Twere better, my Lord, you did perswade her to think you another +_Cicero_, so you might claim some interest in her now and then. + +_Lent_. That I would claim with you, faire Ladie; +Hark in your eare, nay, I must conclude with you. + +_Flau_. Y'oule not bite, my Lord? + +_Len_. No, of my faith, my Lady. + +_Tere_. Thus far, my love, our hopes have good successe; +One storme more past, my griefes were much the less. + +_Tul_. Friendship itself hath beene more prodigal +Then a bolde face could begge upon a friend. + +_Lent_. Why, then theres a bargaine. + +_Flav_. Strike hands upon the same, I am yours to commaund. +Ile love with ye, ile lie with ye, ile love with all my heart, +With all my strength, with all my power and virtue: +Seald and delivered in the presence of us-- + +_Lent_. _Marcus Tullius Cicero_. +Then you deliver this as your act and deede? + +_Flav_. I doe, and scale it with this-- + +_Lent_. Why, well said, tis done; see, we begin but now, +And are as ready to goe to Church as you. +What needes further ceremony? + +_Flav_. Yes, a little matrimony. + +_Lent_. I, Lady. Come _Tully_ and _Terentia_; +One day shall shine on both our Nuptials; +Feare not, ile quench the fire of your Fathers heate +With my consent. + +_Flav_. I prethee, appoint the time. + +_Lent_. About a week hence, love. + +_Flav_. Oh, tis too intolerable long. + +_Lent_. Then foure daies. + +_Flav_. Foure daies is foure times foure & twenty hours. +That's too long too. + +_Lent_. We cannot sooner be readie. + +_Flav_. Yes, and unreadie[291] too in a day and a halfe. + +_Lent_. Well then two daies. + +_Flav_. Til then weele feede on conceite; _Tully_, thanke me, but for +your companie I would not tarry so long; come, _Tully_, since we shall +bee married all at one time, weele goe to bed so, and he shall be +maister of the Cock-pit that bids his Gossips[292] first. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + + +[ACT THE FOURTH. + +_Scene_ 1.] + + + _Enter Accutus and Graccus_. + +_Acut_. Nay quicke, _Graccus_, least our houre forestall us, ile in and +deale for your disguise; tarry thou & give mine host a share of our +intent; marry, charge him to keep it as secret as his Garbage. He undoes +our drift [else] and cloathes the foole in sackcloath during his life. + +_Gra_. Ile warrant thee ile manage it with as good judgement as a +Constable his charge. + +_Acut_. And I mine as a watchman his office. + +_Gra_. Better, I hope; well about it. + + [_Exit [Acutus]_. + + _Enter_[293] _Host. Prentices pass over the stage_. + +_Host_. There, there my little lackey boyes, give the word as ye passe, +look about to my guests there; score up at the Bar there; again, agen, +my fine Mercuries; if youle live in the facultie, be rulde by +instructions, you must be eyed like a Serjeant, an eare like a +Belfounder, your conscience a Schoolemaister, a knee like a Courtier, +a foote[294] like a Lackey, and a tongue like a Lawyere. Away, away, my +brave bullies! welcome, sweete Signior, I cannot bow to thy knee, I'me +as stout & as stiff as a new made knight, but if I say the word, mine +Host bids the Cobler-- + +_Gra_. May I crave a word of you, mine Host? + +_Host_. Thou shalt whisper in mine eare, I will see and say little; what +I say duns[295] the mouse and welcom, my bullies. + + _Enter Scillicet and Getica_. + +_Scil_. By the torrid zone (sweet heart) I have thought well of you ever +since I loved ye, as a man wold say, like a young dancer, out of all +measure; if it please you yfaith anything I have promised you ile +performe it to a haire, ere to morrow night. + +_Get_. I wounder [_sic_] I can heare no newes of my man and my puppie. + +_Scil_. Doe you thinke, sweet heart, to be maried by day light or by +torch-light? + +_Get_. By night is more Lady-like. Ile have a cryer to cry my puppie +sure. + +_Scil_. What thinke ye if we had an offering? + +_Get_. That were most base yfaith. + +_Scil_. Base, slid, I cannot tel if it were as base as a sagbut, ile be +sworne tis as common as a whore, tis even as common to see a Bason at a +Church doore, as a Box at a Playhouse. + +_Get_. It greeves me not so much for my man as for my puppie; my man can +shift for himself, but my poore puppie! truely I thinke I must take +Phisicke even for feare, sweetheart. + +_Host_. Tut, tut, ile warrant thee ile be as close as a bawd, ile keepe +mine owne counsell, be merrie and close;[296] merrie hart lives long, +let my guests take no wrong, & welcome, my bullie. [_Exit_. + +_Grac_. There's none ment, beleeve it, sir. + +_Scil_. Signor, by the welkin, well met, what all three so luckely? + + _Enter Servulus_. + +_Ser_. Gallants, saving the Ceremonie, +Stroke your haire up and admire, forsweare sacke. + +_Scil_. Foresweare Sacke! slid, not for the spending of two farmes more, +if they were come into my hands once. + +_Ser_. I say be astonisht and forsweare sacke, for by the combustion +influence of sacke five men lye breathlesse ready to be folded in the +terrestiall element. + +_Grac_. Five slaine with Sacke! ist possible? + +_Ser_. These eyes are testators. + +_Scil_. Nay, then tis so. + +_Getica_. Sir, you have not heard of a puppie in your travels? + +_Grac_. No indeede, Gentlewoman. + +_Ser_. Five, beleeve me, Sir. + +_Acu_. Five of one, oh devil! +What limme of him but a complete Villaine! +A tongue prophaner then Idolatrie, +His eye a beacon fixed in his place +Discovering illes, but hood-winked unto grace; +His heart a nest of vice kept by the Devill, +His good is none at all, his all is evill. + + _Enter_[297] _Hostess_. + +_Hostis_. Oh, the father! Gallants, yonders the most hard favourd newes +walkes the streetes, seaven men going to their graves, that dyed with +drinking and bisseling.[298] + +_Acut_. Good, still, nay then I see the devill has some power over a +woman more then a man. Seaven! t'will be more anon. + +_Get_. Now I beseech _Bacchus_ my puppie has not overseene[299] himself. + +_Scil_. This is verie strange. + +_Hostis_. And as true a report, I assure you. + + _Enter City-Wife_[300] + +_Cittie wife_. Out alas, where's my Gosip? Oh woman! have you not heard +the newes? + +_Hostis_. Yes, I have heard on't. + +_Cittie wife_. Oh, woman, did your child's child ever see the like? nine +men to bee buried too day, that drunk healthes last night. + +_Acut_. Better and better, goodnes never mends so fast in the carrying: +nine! + +_Cittie wife_. They say one is your guest, _Philautus_. + +_Acut_. And all, I dare sweare, whome ile revive againe. + +_Cittie wife_. Well he was a propper man, yfaith. + +_Hostis_. I, and had good skill in prick-song, yet he had a fault in his +humor, as none are without (but Puritans,); he would swear like an +Elephant, and stamp and stare, (God blesse us,) like a play-house +book-keeper when the actors misse their entrance. + +_Scil_. Nay, harke ye, sir, I can brooke much injurie but not that; +meddle with me but not with my trade; shee is mine owne, shee's _meus, +tuus, suus_, no man's else, I assure ye, we are sure[301] together. + +_Grac_. Sure ye are together, sir, but is your wife your trade? You +meane to live upon your wife then. + +_Acut_. The foole has some wit,[302] though his money bee gone. + +_Grac_. Sir, I hope ye are not offended, I assure ye I would be loath to +offend the least haire of your _caput, sissiput_, or _occiput_. + +_Scil_. _Occiput_? what meane you by _occiput_? + +_Grac_. The former part of your head. + +_Scil_. The former part of your head! why I hope I have not an occiput, +in the former part of my head. Signior _Servulus_, what meanes he by it? + +_Serv_. The signification of the word only amounts to this, the former +part of your head. + +_Accut_. The foole is jealious, prethee feede it. + +_Scil_. S'lid, I cannot be so sussified; I pray you, Segnior, what +meanes he by _occiput_? + +_Grac_. No hurt, verily, onely the word signifies, and the reason is, +saith _Varro_, being a great deriver from originals, it is called +_occiput_ for that the former part of the head looks likest the Oxe. + +_Scil_. Likest the Oxe, by gad, if ere I come to talke with that +_Varro_, ile make him show a better reason for it. + +_Grac_. But, howsoever, it proceeded from me all in kindenes. + +_Scil_. Sir, I accept it so, for I tell ye I am of a mollifying nature. +I can strut and againe in kindnesse I can suffer a man to breake my +head, and put it up without anger. + +_Accut_. I claime that priviledge, sir, I thinke I offended you once +that way. + +_Scil_. I love ye then for it sir, yet I cannot remember that ever a +Tapster broke my head, yet I call to minde I have broke many Tapsters +heads. + +_Accut_. Not as a Tapster, for I but borrow this habyt. + +_Scil_. The fruit is knowne by the tree, by gad, I knewe by your +aporn[303] ye were a gentlemen, but speciallye by your flat[304] cap. + +_Serv_. I call to memorie, let us unite with kinde imbrace. + +_Cittie wife_. Now well fare your harts; by my truth, tis joy to a woman +to see men kinde; faith you courtiers are mad fellowes, you care not in +your humors to stab man or woman that standes in your way, but in the +end your kindenes appeares. + +_Hostis_. You can resolve us, sir; we heare of great revels to be at +Court shortly. + +_Grac_. The marriage of _Lentulus_ and the Orator: verie true. + +_Hostis_. Might not a company of Wives be beholding to thee for places, +that would be there without their husbands knowledge, if neede were? + +_Grac_. A moitie of friendship that, ile place ye where ye shall sit and +see all. + +_Cittie wife_. Sit? nay, if there were but good standinges, we care not. + +_Acu_. S'foot, _Graccus_, we tarrie too long, I feare; the houre wil +overtake us, tarrie thou and invite the Guests, and Ile goe see his +course mounted. + +_Grac_. About it. + + [_Exit_[305] _Acutus_. + +_Hostis_. Whether goes that gentleman? + +_Grac_. About a needeful trouble; this gentleman +Hath, at the charges of his charitie, +Preparde to inter a friend of his, +Though lately entertaind a friend of yours, +Acquaintance to you all, _Philautus_; and would desire +You would with him accompany his ghost +To funerall, which will be presently on his journey. + +_Cittie wife_. Of his charge? dyed he not able to purchase a Winding +sheete? + +_Grac_. Twere sinne to wrong the dead; you shall heare the inventorie of +his pocket. + + Imprimis, brush and a Combe o o v.d. + Item, a looking Glasse o o i.d.ob. + Item, A case of Tobacco Pipes o o iiij.d. + Item, Tobacco, halfe an ounz o o vj.d. + Item, in money and golde o o iij.d. + _Summa totalis_. xix d. halfe penny. + +_Hostis_. What was his suite worth? + +_Grac_. His sute was colde, because not his owne, and the owner caused +it to be restored as part of recompence, having lost the principall. + + _Re-enter_[306] _Acutus_. + +_Acut_. What, are they readie? the Corse is on his journey hetherwards. + +_Grac_. Tush, two womens tungs give as loud report as a campe royall of +double cannons. + + _Enter Host, Cornutus_. + +_Host_. Tut, tut, thou art welcom; _Cornutus_ is my neighbour, I love +him as my self. Tha'st a shrowe to thy wife, gave her tongue to [_sic_] +much string, but let mine Host give thee counsell, heele teach thee a +remedie. + +_Cornu_. No, no, my good Host; mum, mum, no words against my wife; +shee's mine owne, one flesh, & one blood. I shall feele her hurt, her +tongue is her owne, so are her hands; mum, mum, no words against your +wife. + +_Host_. Tut, tut, thou art a foole, keepe her close from the poticarie, +let her taste of no licoras, twill make her long winded; no plums, nor +no parseneps, no peares, nor no Popperins, sheele dreame in her sleep +then; let her live vpon Hasels, give her nuts for her dyet, while a +toothe's in her head, give her cheese for disgestion,[307] twil make her +short winded; if that will not serve, set fire to the pan and blow her +up with Gun-powder. + +_Cittie wife_. I, I, mine Host, you are well imployed to give a man +counsell against his wife; they are apt enough to ill I warrant ye. + +_Cornu_. Mum, mum, my sweet wife, I know the world wel enough; I have an +eare but I heare not, an eye but I see not, what's spoke against thee I +regard not; mum, mum, I knowe the world well enough. + +_Cittie wife_. I, and twere more seemely you were at your owne house +too; your wife cannot goe abroad, but you must follow; husbands must bee +fringed to their wives Petticoates. I pray you tarrie you, ile goe home. + +_Cor_. Not so, my sweet wife, I am gone, I am vanisht; mum, mum, no +anger shall stirre thee; no words, I know the world well inough. + +_Hostis_. Twere better, by thrice deuce-ace, in a weeke every woman +could awe her husband so well as she. + +_Gracc_. Ist possible? s'foot, well I thought it had bene but a fable al +this while that _Iole_ shold make great _Hercules_ spit on his thombes +and spin, but now I see if a man were as great as _Caesar, Julius_ or +_Augustus_, or both in one, a woman may take him downe. + +_Hostis_. Gossip, faith ile use a little of your counsel, but my husband +is so fat, I feare I shall never bring him to it. + +_Grac_. Now, gentles, you that can, prepare a few teares to shed, for +now enters a sad sceane of sorrowe. + + _Enter Fryer and Course_. + +_Fryer_. Man is flesh and flesh is fraile, +The strongest man at length must faile; +Man is flesh and flesh is grasse; +Consuming time, as in a glasse, +Now is up and now is downe +And is not purchast by a Crowne; +Now seede, and now we are sowen, +Now we wither, now are mowen; +_Frater noster_ heere doth lye, +_In paupertate_ he did die, +And now is gone his _viam longam_ +That leades unto his _requiem aeternam_; +But dying needie, poore and bare, +Wanting to discharge the Fryer, +Unto his grave hee's like to passe +Having neither Dirge nor Masse: +So set forward, let him goe, +_Et benedicamus Domino_. + +_Phy_. And then to _Apollo_ hollo, trees, hollo.--Tapster a few more +cloathes to my feete. + +_Omnes_. Oh heavens! + +_Acut_. Gentles, keep your places, feare nothing; in the name of God, +what art thou? + +_Phy_. My Hearse and winding-sheete! what meanes this? why, Gentles, I +am a living man. + +_Acut_. Spirit, thou ly'st; thou deludest us. + +_Citty wife_. Conjure him, Fryer. + +_Fryer_. _In nomine Domini_ I thee charge, +_Responde mihi_, heere at large, +_Cujum pecus_, whence thou art, +_Et quamobrem_ thou makest us start +_In spiritus_ of the gloomy night? +_Qui Venis huc_ us to affright, +_Per trinitatem_ I there charge thee, +_Quid tu vis hic_ to tell to me. + +_Phy_. Why, Gentles, I am a living man, _Philautus_.[308] What instance +shall I give ye? heare me I have sight, understanding, I know mine +hostes, I see that Gentlewoman, I can feele. + +_Scil_. Feele this Gentlewoman! s'lid if yee were ten Ghosts, ile not +indure it. + +_Acut_. Spirit, thou deludest us. + +_Phy_. Why what should I say? will ye heare my voice, heeres not but-- + +_Scil_. Nay, that's a lye, then tis a living spirit, ile have a bout +with him. + +_Accut_. Oh sir, meddle not with shadowes. Spirit, thou lyest; +I saw thee dead, [and] so did many moe.[309] +We know ye wandring dwellers in the dark +Have power to shape you like mortallitie +To beguile the simple & deceve their soules. +Thou art a Devill. + +_Phy_. Sweet Gent, beholde I am flesh and blood; heeres my flesh, feele +it. + +_Cittie wife_. By my troth, methinkes hee should be alive. I could finde +in my heart to feele his flesh. + +_Grac_. Trie with your Rapier, _Accutus_; if he bleede he lives. + +_Phy_. If I bleede I die; sweet Gentlemen, draw no blood. + +_Accu_. How shall wee knowe thou art flesh and blood then? + +_Grac_. Take heede, _Accutus_, heele blast thee. + +_Phy_. What instance shall I give ye? I am _Phylautus_,[310] he that +must needes confesse, he was drunk in your companies last day; sweet +Gentlemen, conceive me aright. + +_Accut_. Why true, true, that we know and[311] those swilling bowels. +Death did arrest thee, many saw thee deade, +Else needles were these rites of funeralls. +And since that time, till now, no breath was knowne +Flye from you; and twentie times the houre-glasse +Hath turned his upside downe; and twenty times, +The nimble current sand hath left his upper roome. +To ly beneath, since sparke of life appeard; +In all which time my care imploide it self +To give the[e] rights of buriall: now, if you live, +Who so glad as I? + +_Phy_. Sir, your love has showne it selfe aboundant, but the cold aire +is a meanes to devorce me from your companies: mine host, let me crave +passage to my chamber. + +_Host_. Out of my dores, knave; thou enterest not my dores, I have no +chalke in my house, my posts shall not be garded with a little sing +song, _Si nihil attuleris, ibis, Homere, foras_. + +_Accut. Ha! how now man? see'st now any errors? +Nay, this is nothing; he hath but showne +A patterne of himself, what thou shalt finde +In others; search through the Globe of earth, +If there mongst twentie two thou doost find +Honester then himself ile be buried straight. +Now thinke what shame tis to be vilde, +And how vilde to be drunk: look round! where? +Nay looke up, beholde yon Christall pallace. +There sits an ubiquitarie Judge +From whom _arcana nulla abscondita_, +That see's all and at pleasure punisheth; +Thou canst not scape scot free, how cans't thou? +Why, sencelesse man in that sinne will betray +His father, brother, nay, himselfe;[312] feares not +To commit the worst of evils, secure if +Thunder-boults should drop from heaven, dreading +Nor heaven, nor hell; indeede his best state +Is worse then least, prised at highest rate. + +_Ser_. This critique is hoarsh [_sic_], unsaverie, and reproofeful; +avoyd him. + +_Scil_. Hee speakes well, but I like not his dispraysing of drunkennes; +tis Phisicke to me and it makes me to sleep like a horse with my nose in +the manger. Come, sweet heart. + +_Hostis_. Signior, _Philautus_, I pray ye a word. [_Exit_. + +_Acut_. How now, whispering? s'foot if they should give our purpose +another crosse point, where are we then? note, note. + +_Hostis_. Heere take the key, convey yourself into the Chamber, but in +any case take heede my husband see you not. + +_Phy_. Feare not, Gentles, be thanks the guerden of your love till time +give better abilitie. [_Exit_. + +_Acut_. Ha! nay s'foot, I must claw out another device, we must not part +so, _Graccus_; prethee keepe the sceane, til I fetch more actors to fill +it fuller. + +_Gra_. But prethee, let me partake. + +_Acut_. Not till I returne, pardon me. [_Exit_. + +_Hostis_. By my troth Gossip, I am halfe sick of a conceit. + +_Citty wife_. What, woman? passion of my heart, tell me your greefs. + +_Hostis_. I shall goe to court now, and attired like an old Darie woman, +a Ruffe holland of eight groates, three inches deep of the olde cut, and +a hat as far out of fashion as a close placket. + +_Cittie wife_. Why I hope your husband is able to maintain you better, +are there not nights as well as daies? does he not sleepe sometimes? has +he no pockets about him, cannot you search his breeches? anything you +find in his breeches is your owne. + +_Hostis_. But may a woman doe that with safety? + +_Cittie wife_. I, and more, why should she not? why what is his is +yours, what's yours your owne. + +_Hostis_. The best hope I have is; you knowe my Guest Mistris _Gettica_, +she has pawnd her Jewels to me already, and this night I look for her +Hood and her tyer, or if the worst chance, I know I can intreate her to +weare my cloathes, and let me goe in her attire to Court. + +_Cittie wife_. Or if all faile, you may hire a good suit at a Jewes, or +at a broakers; tis a common thing and speacially among the common sort. + + _Enter Host and Constable_. + +_Host_. To search through my house! I have no Varlets, no knaves, no +stewd prunes, no she fierie phagies [faces?]; my Chambers are swept, my +sinkes are all scowred, the honest shall come in, the knaves shall goe +by; yet will I, maister Constable, goe search through my house, I care +not a sheepes skin. + +_Const_. We are compeld to doe it, mine host; a Gentleman is robd last +night, & we are to search every privy corner. + +_Host_. Mine host is true Mettall, a man of reputation, a true +_Holefernes_, he loves juice of grapes, and welcom, maister Constable. + [_Exit_. + +_Acut_. _Graccus_, how likst thou this? + +_Grac_. Excellent, for now must he needes fall into Constables hands, +and if he have any grace, twil appear in his face, when he shall be +carried through the streete in a white sheet; twill be a good penance +for his fault. + +_Hostis_. Now fortune favour that my husband find him not. + +_Cittie wife_. Heele be horne mad & never able to indure it: why, woman, +if he had but as much man in him as a Maribone, heele take the burthen +uppon his own necke and never discover you. + +_Hostis_. Alas, heere they come, lets away, Gossip. + [_Exeunt_. + +_Phy_. _Fortune_,[313] _my foe, why doost, &c_. + +_Acut_. Oh fye, thats bitter prethe goe comfort him. + +_Grac_. Faith he should be innocent by his garment; Signior, I grieve +for this, but if I can help, looke for it. + +_Phy_. I thanke ye, sir. + +_Const_. We must contaminate our office, pray regard us as little as ye +can. [_Exit_. + +_Accut_. Me thinkes this shold put him quite out of tune now, so let him +goe now to mine Host; theres he and hee, and hee, + + Theres shee, and she, ile have a bout with all: + And critiques honneys sweetest mixt with gal. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +[_Scene_ 2.] + + + _Enter Host, Cornutus_. + +_Host_. Goe to, there's knaves in my house! I know of no Varlets, I +have an eye has his sence, a brain that can reach, I have bene cald +Polititian, my wife is my wife. I am her top, i'me her head: if mine +Host say the word, the Mouse[314] shall be dun. + +_Corn_. Not so my sweet Host, mum, mum, no words against your wife; he +that meanes to live quiet, to sleep in cleane sheetes, a Pillowe under +his head, his dyet drest cleanely, mum, mum, no words against his wife. + +_Host_. Thar't a foole, thar't a foole, bee rulde by mine host, shew thy +self a brave man, of the true seede of _Troy_, a gallant _Agamemnon_; +tha'st a shrew to thy wife, if shee crosse thy brave humors, kicke thy +heele at her huckle[315] bone. + + _Enter Accutus_. + +_Acut_. Gentles, most happily encountered, how good hap hath turnd two +labours into one! I was addrest to both, and at once I have met both, +sure I must intreate that you must not deny. + +_Host_. Say on, my sweete bullie, mine Host will attend thee; speake +roundly to the purpose, and welcome, my bullie. + +_Accut_. Marrie thus, there are[316] great revels & shews preparde to +beautifie the nuptials of _Lentulus_, and _Tully_, in which the +Cittizens have the least share; now, would but you and some others that +I shall collect, + + Joyne hands with me in some queint jest, + Our shew shall deserve grace, and brave the rest. + +_Host_, I have thee, brave spirit, tha'rt of the true seede of _Troy_, +lets be merrie and wise, merrie hearts live long; mine Host, my brave +Host, with his neighbor _Cornutus_ shall bee two of the Maskers, and the +Morrice shall be daunc'd. + +_Cor_. Not so, mine Host. I dare not doe so, t'will distemper my wife, +my house will be unquiet; mum, mum, I know the world, well enough. + +_Host_. Thou shall goe, saies mine Host, merrie hearts live long; +welcome, bullie! mine Host shall make one, so shall my _Cornutus_, for +if I say the word the mouse shall be dun. + + _Enter Bos with Porters_. + +_Porters_. Save ye mine Host, heeres a parcell of Corne was directed to +be delivered at your house. + +_Host_. What ware, my little Atlas, what ware is it? + +2 _Por_. I know not, but i'me sure tis as heavie as a horse and-- + +1 _Por_. I thinke, tis a barrel of oyle, for it spurg'd at my backe. + +_Bos_. It was oyle, for I drew the Tap. + +_Grac_. What, _Bos_, what mak'st thou heere? + +_Acc_. Oh, _chara_[317] _deum soboles, magnum bovis incrementum_. +_Bos_, art there, there? + +_Bos_. As sure as you are there, Signior. + +_Grac_. _Bos_, will ye not forsake your Cabbin? + +_Bos_. Oh sir, he that has not a tilde house must bee glad of a thatch +house. May I crave a suite of you, signior? + +_Grac_. What suit, _Bos_? + +_Bos_. What you please, beggars must not chuse. + +_Accut_. _Bos_ is growne misticall, hee's too dark. + +_Bos_. I speake _Hebrew_ indeede, like _Adam_ and _Eve_, before they fel +to spinning; not a rag. + +_Grac_. What, naked, _Bos_? + +_Bos_. As ye see, will ye heare my suite, signior? + +_Gra_. Drunk, & his cloathes stoln, what theef would do it? + +_Bos_. Any theefe, sir, but no true[318] man. + +_Gra_. Wel, _Bos_, to obtaine a suit at my handes, and to doe some +pennance for your fault, you shall heere maintaine an argument in the +defence of drunkennes. Mine Host shall heere it, ile be your opponent, +_Acutus_ moderator: wilt thou doe it? + +_Host_. A mad merrie grig;[319] all good spirits; wilt thou doe it, +_Bos_? + +_Bos_. Ile doo't. + +_Grac_. Seate yee, heres my place; now, _Bos_, propound. + +_Bos_. Drunkenness is a vertue. + +_Gra_. Your proofe. + +_Bos_. Good drink is full of vertue, +Now full of good drink is drunke; +_Ergo_, to be drunke is to be vertuous. + +_Grac_. I deny it: good drinke is full of vice, +Drinke takes away the sences, +Man that is sencelesse is vitious; +_Ergo_, good drinke is full of vice. + +_Bos_. I deny it still: good drinke makes good bloud, +Good blood needes no Barber, +_Ergo_, tis good to drinke good drinke. + +_Accu_. Hee holdes ye hard, _Graccus_. + +_Bos_. Heeres stronger proofe: drunkennes ingenders with two of the +morrall vertues, and sixe of the lyberall sciences. + +_Gra_. Let him proove that and Ile yeeld. + +_Host_. A mad spirit, yfaith. + +_Bos_. A drunkard is valiant and lyberall; heele outface _Mars_, brave +_Hercules_, and feares not the Devill; then for the most part hee's +liberal, for heele give all the cloathes off his back, though hee weepe +like a Widowe all the day following; nay for the sciences, hee's a good +phisitian, hee vomits himself rarelie and will giue any man else a +vomit, that lookes on him (if he have not a verie good stomacke); +perfect in Geomitrie, for he hangs in the aire by his own conceite, and +feeles no ground; and hee's all musicall, the world turns round with +him, everie face in the painted cloath, shewes like a Fairie dauncing +about him, and everie spar in the house a minstrell. + +_Grac_. Good: forward. + +_Bos_. Then hee's a good Lawyer, for hees never without a _fierie +facies_, & the least _Capias_ will take his _habeas Corpus_: +besides, another point of a Lawyere, heele raile and rave against his +dearest friends and make the world think they are enemies, when the next +day theile laugh, bee fat and drunk together: and a rare Astronomer, for +he has starres twinckling in his eyes in the darkest night when a wise +man discernes none in the firmament, and will take great paines in the +practise, for lay him on his backe in the open fields over night, and +you shal be sure to finde him there in the morning. Have I sed well or +shall I give you a stronger proofe? An honest man will be as good as his +word: Signior _Graccus_ is an honest man, _Ergo_, I must have a new +suite. + +_Accu_. The moderator concludes so, _Graccus_ is overthrown so far as +the damage of the suite, so away with him; come, our fire will out strip +us; mine Host and you wee expect your companies; we must crave absence +awhile better to furnishe our purposes: the time of day to ye. + +_Host_. Farwel, my good bullies, mine Host has sed and the mouse is dun. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + + +[ACT THE FIFTH. + +_Scene_ 1.] + + + _Enter the dumb shew of the marriage, Lentulus, Tully, and the rest. + + Enter Hostis in Getticaes apparel, Getic. in hers, & Mistris Dama_. + +_Hostis_. Come, Gossip, by my troth, I cannot keepe my hood in frame. + +_Cittie wife_. Let me helpe ye, woman. + +_Get_. Sir, we shall be troublesome to ye. + +_Gra_. Oh urge not that I pray ye. + +_Get_. I pray ye what shewe will be heere to night? I have seen the +_Babones_ already, the _Cittie of new Ninivie_[320] and _Julius Caesar_, +acted by the Mammets. + +_Grac_. Oh, gentlewoman, those are showes for those places they are used +in; marry, heere you must expect some rare device, as _Diana_ bathing +herself, being discovered or occulated by _Acteon_, he was tranfigured +to a hart, & werried to death with his own dogs. + +_Cit. W_. Thats prettie in good truth; & must _Diana_, be naked? + +_Gra_. Oh of necessitie, if it be that show. + +_Hostis_. And _Acteon_, too? that's prettie ifaith. + + _Enter Caesar, Lent: Tully, Teren: Flavia_. + +_Caes_. Now, gallant Bridegroomes, and your lovely Brides, +That have ingeminate in endlesse league +Your troth-plight hearts, in your nuptial vowes +Tyed true love knots that nothing can disolve +Till death, that meager pursevant of _Jove_ +That Cancels all bonds: we are to [_sic_] clowdie, +My spirit a typtoe, nothing I could chid so much +As winged time, that gins to free a passage +To his current glasse and crops our day-light, +That mistie night will summon us to rest, +Before we feele the burthen of our eylids. +The time is tedious, wants varietie; +But that I may shew what delightful raptures +Combats my soule to see this union, +And with what boundles joy I doe imbrace it, +We heere commaund all prison gates flye ope, +Freeing all prisoners (traitors all except,) +That poore mens prayers may increase our daies, +And writers circle ye with wreathes of bayes. + +_Grac_. S'foot, _Accutus_, lets lay hold of this to free our captive. + +_Acu_. Content; ile prosecute it. + +_Tul_. Dread soveraigne, heaven witnesse with me +With what bended spirit I have attainde +This height of happinesse; and how unwillingly, +Till heavens decree, _Terentias_ love, and your +Faire consents did meet in one to make +Me Lord thereof: nor shall it add one scruple +Of high thought to my lowly minde. +_Tully_ is _Tully_, parentage poore, the best +An Orator, but equall with the least. + +_Lent_. Oh no doubt, _Accutus_, be the attempt +My perill, his royall promise is past +In that behalfe. My soveraigne, this Gentlemans +Request takes hold upon your gratious promise +For the releasement of a prisoner. + +_Cos_. My promise is irrevocable, take it; +But what is hee and the qualitie of his fault? + +_Acut_. A gentleman, may it please your grace; his fault +Suspition, and most likly innocent. + +_Caes_. He hath freedome, and I prethee let him be brought hither. + + [_Exit[321] Acut_. + +Perhaps in his presence we shall win some smiles, +For I have noted oft in a simple braine, +(Only striving to excell it self) +Hath corrupted language, that hath turnd +To pleasant laughter in juditious eares; +Such may this proove, for now me thinkes +Each minute, wanting sport, doth seeme as long +And teadious, as a feaver: but who doth knowe +The true condition of this _Accutus_? + +_Tully_. My Leige, of him something my knowledge +Can discover; his spirit is free as aire, +His temper temperate, if ought's uneeven +His spleene waies downe [towards] lenitie: but how +Stird by reproofe? ah,[322] then hee's bitter and like +His name _Acute_, vice to him is a foule eye-sore +And could he stifle it in bitterest words he would, +And who so offends to him is paralell; +He will as soon reproove the Caedar state +As the lowe shrub. + + _Enter Acut. and Philaut_. + +_Phy_. Nay, good _Accutus_, let me not enter the presence. + +_Accut_. Oh sir, I assure you your presence will be most acceptable in +the presence at this time then a farre ritcher present. May it please +your majestie, this is the man. + +_Caes_. Let him stand forward. + +_Cit. W_. Alas, we shal see nothing; would I were neere; now hee stands +forwards. + +_Caes_.[323] What qualities hath he, _Accutus_? + +_Accut_. A few good ones (may it please you); he handles a comb wel, a +brush better, and will drink downe a _Dutchman_, & has good skill in +pricksong. + +_Hostis_. I, ile be sworne he had, when he was my Guest. + +_Acut_. Please it your Maiestie to commaund him? + +_Caes_. Oh, we can no otherwise, so well be pleased. + +_Phy_. I beseech your Maiestie, I cannot sing. + +_Tul_. Nay, your denyall will breed but greater expectation. + +_Acut_. I, I, please it your grace to heare? now he begins. + +_Phy_. _My love can sing no other song, but still complaines I did her, +&c_. I beseech your Maiestie to let me goe. + +_Caes_. With all our heart; _Acutus_, give him libertie. + +_Accut_. Goe and for voice sake yee shall sing Ballads in the suburbes, +and if ever heereafter ye chance to purchase a suite, by what your +friends shal leave ye, or the credit of your friend, be not drunk again, +& give him hard words for his labour. [_Exit_. + +_Caes_. What, ist effected, _Graccus_? + +_Gra_. I have wrought the foole; _Scilicet_ comes alone, & his Lady +keepes the women company. + +_Accu_. Tush, weele have a room scantly furnisht with lights that shall +further it. + +_Caes_. What sound is that? + +_Acut_. I, would ye so fain enter? ile further it: please it your +Maiestie to accept what is not worth acceptance? heere are a company to +Gratulate these nuptials, have prepard a show--I feare not worth the +sight--if you shall deeme to give them the beholding of it. + +_Caes_. Else should we wrong their kindnes much. _Accutus_, be it your +care to give them kindest welcome; we cannot recompence their loves +without much beholdings. + +_Acut_. Now for the cunning vizarding of them & tis done. + +_Hostis_. Now we shall beholde the showes. + +_Get_. _Acteon_ and his Dogs, I pray Jupiter. + + _Enter the maske and the Song_. + + _Chaunt birds in everie bush, + The blackbird and the Thrush, + The chirping Nightingale, + The Mavis and Wagtaile, + The Linnet and the Larke, + Oh how they begin, harke, harke_. + +_Scil_. S'lid, there's one bird, I doe not like her voice. + + _Sing againe & Exeunt_. + +_Hostis_. By my troth, me thought one should be my husband, I could even +discerne his voice through the vizard. + +_Cittie wife_. And truely by his head one should be mine. + +_Get_. And surely by his eares one should be my sweet heart. + +_Caes_. _Accutus_,[324] you have deserved much of our love, but might +we not breake the law of sport so farre as to know to whome our thankes +is due, by seeing them unmaskt and the reason of their habits? + +_Acut_. Most willingly, my Soveraigne, ile cause their returne. + +_Hostis_. Oh excellent! now we shal see them unmaskt. [_Exit_. + +_Get_. In troth, I had good hope the formost had bene _Acteon_, when I +saw his hornes. + +_Cit. wif_. Sure the middlemost was my husband, see if he have not a +wen in his forehead. + + _Enter Maskers_. + +_Host_. God blesse thee, noble _Caesar_, & all these brave bridegroomes, +with their fine little dydoppers, that looke before they sleep to throw +away their maiden heads: I am host of the Hobbie, _Cornut_. is my +neighbour, but wele pull of his bopeeper; thou't know me by my nose, I +am a mad merie grig, come to make thy grace laugh; sir _Scillicet_ my +guest; all true canaries, that love juce of grapes, god blesse thy +Maiestie. + +_Acut_. How now, mine Host? + +_Host_. Ha, ha, I spie a jest. Ha, ha, _Cornutus, Cornutus_. + +_Acut_. Nay, mine host, heeres a moate in your eye to [_sic_]. + +_Scil_. S'lid, I hope they have not serv'd me so; by the torrid y'are an +asse, a flat Asse, but the best is I know who did it; twas either you or +some body else; by gad, I remember it as wel as if it were done now. + +_Host_. T[h]ou shalt answer it to my leige, ile not be so misused, ye +have a wrong element, theres fire in my face, weele mount and ascend. +I'me misused, the mad comrades have plaide the knaves. Justice, my brave +_Caesar_. + +_Accut_. Ile answer it, mine Host. Pardon, greate _Caesar_: +The intent was merriment, the reason this: +A true brow bends to see good things a misse, +Men turned to beasts, and such are you mine Host; +Ile show you else, you are a Goate, look here! +Now come you, this is your's, you know it, doe you not? +How old are you? are you not a Goate now? +Shall I teach you how to use a wife and keepe her +In the rank of goodnes? linke her to thy soule, +Devide not _individium_, be her and she thee, +Keepe her from the Serpent, let her not Gad +To everie Gossips congregation; +For there is blushing modestie laide out +And a free rayne to sensual turpitude +Given out at length and lybidinous acts, +Free chat, each giving counsell and sensure +_Capream maritum facere_, such art thou Goate. +Be not so secure. And you, my grand _Cornutus_, +Thou Ram, thou seest thy shame, a pent-house +To thy eye-browes, doost not glorie in it, doost? +Thou'lt lye in a Trucklebed, at thy wives bed feete, +And let her goe a Gossiping while thou sweepest the kitchin. +Look, she shall witnesse[325] against thee. + +_Corn_. My wife there? I must be gone then. + +_Acut_. Oh fye, betray not thy self so grossely. + +_Cor_. I pray ye pardon me. + +_Accut_. I dare not. + +_Cor_. I sir, but afterward may come after claps. I know the world well +enough. + +_Accut_. Mischiefe of the Devill, be man, not all beast, do not +lye,----both sheetes doe not. + +_Cit. w_. I warrant this fellow has as many eies as a Lamprey, hee could +never see so farre into the world else. + +_Accu_. And thou pure asse, meere asse, thy eares become thee well, +yfaith. + +_Scil_. I think you merit to make a Musition of me, you furnish me with +a good eare. + +_Accut_. Thou deservdst it, thou't make thy self a Cucckold, be it but +for company sake; thou hast long eares, and thinkest them hornes, thy +onceites cuckolds thee, thou art jealious if thou seest thy wives ---- +with another mans palme. And foole, thy state in that sense is the best; +thou art claspt with simplicitie, (a great badge of honestie,) for the +poore foole has pawnd her cloathes to redeeme thy unthriftines; be +jealious no more unlesse thou weare thine eares still, for all shall be +well, and you shall have your puppie againe. + +_Get_. Shall I? by my troth, I shall be beholding to you then. + +_Acu_. Now to ye all, be firmaments to stars, +Be stars to Firmaments, and, as you are +Splendent, so be fixed, not wandering, nor +Irregular, both keeping course together. +Shine not in pride and gorgeous attire, +When clouds doe faile the pole where thou art fixt. +Obey, cherish, honor, be kinde enough, +But let them weare no changeable stuffe; +Keepe them, as shall become your state, +Comely, and to creepe ere they goe. +Let them partake your joyes and weep with you, +Curle not the snarles that dwell upon these browes. +In all things be you kinde: of all enough, +But let them weare no changeable stuffe. + +_Host_. Fore God a mad spirit. + +_Hostis_. Will ye beeleeve what such a bisket brain'd fellow as this +saies? he has a mouth like a double cannon, the report will be heard all +ore the towne. + +_Cittie wife_. I warrant he ranne mad for love, because no good face +could indure the sight of him, and ever since he railes against women +like a whot-shot. + +_Len_. Nay, nay, we must have all friendes, +Jarring discords are no marriage musick; +Throw not Hymen in a cuckstoole; dimple +Your furrowed browes; since all but mirth was ment, +Let us not then conclude in discontent, +Say, shall we all +In friendly straine measure our paces to bed-ward? + +_Tul_. Will _Terentia_ follow? + +_Teren_. If _Tully_ be her Leader. + +_Host_. Good bloods, good spirits, let me answer for all, none speake +but mine Host; hee has his pols, and his aedypols, his times and his +tricks, his quirkes, and his quilits, and his demise and dementions. God +blesse thee, noble _Caesar_, and all these brave spirits! I am Host of +the Hobby, _Cornutus_ is my neighbour, _Graccus_, a mad spirit, +_Accutus_ is my friend, Sir _Scillicet_ is my guest; al mad comrades of +the true seede of _Troy_, that love juce of Grapes; we are all true +friends, merrie harts live long, let Pipers strike up, ile daunce my +cinquepace, cut aloft my brave capers, whirle about my toe, doe my +tricks above ground, ile kisse my sweet hostesse, make a curtesie to thy +grace; God blesse thy Maiestie and the Mouse shall be dun. + +_Cor_. Come wife, will you dance? + +_Wife_. Ile not daunce, I, must you come to Court to have hornes set on +your head? I could have done that at home. + +_Host_. I, I, be rulde at this time; what? for one merrie day wele find +a whole moone at midsommer. + + _Daunce_. + +_Caes_. Gentles, wee thanke yee all, the night hath spent +His youth, and drowsie _Morpheus_ bids us battell. +We will defie him still, weele keep him out +While we have power to doe it. Sound +Your loudest noise: set forward to our chamber. + +_Gra_. Advance your light. + +_Caes_. Good rest to all. + +_Omn_. God give your grace God-night. + + [_Exeunt_. + + +FINIS. + + + + +APPENDIX. + + +VOL. II. _Tragedy of Sir John Van Olden Barnavelt_. In _The Athenaeum_ +of January 19, 1884, my friend, Mr. S.L. Lee, pointed out that the first +performance of this remarkable play took place in August, 1619. I had +thrown out the suggestion that the play was produced at Michaelmas, +1619. "I have been fortunate enough," says Mr. Lee, "to meet with +passages in the State Papers that give us positive information on this +point. In two letters from Thomas Locke to Carleton, the English +ambassador at the Hague, I have found accounts of the circumstances +under which the tragedy was first performed in London. The earlier +passage runs as follows:--'The Players heere', writes Locke in London on +August 14th, 1619, 'were bringing of Barnevelt vpon the stage, and had +bestowed a great deale of mony to prepare all things for the purpose, +but at th'instant were prohibited by my Lo: of London' (Domestic State +Papers, James I., vol. cx. No. 18). The play was thus ready on August +14th, 1619, and its performance was hindered by John King, Bishop of +London. The excitement that the Arminian controversy had excited in +England would sufficiently account for the prohibition. But the bishop +did not persist in his obstruction. On August 27th following Locke tells +a different story. His words are: 'Our players haue fownd the meanes to +goe through with the play of Barnevelt, and it hath had many spectators +and receaued applause: yet some say that (according to the proverbe) the +diuill is not so bad as he is painted, and that Barnavelt should +perswade Ledenberg to make away himself (when he came to see him after +he was prisoner) to prevent the discovrie of the plott, and to tell him +that when they were both dead (as though he meant to do the like) they +might sift it out of their ashes, was thought to be a point strayned. +When Barnevelt vnderstood of Ledenberg's death he comforted himself, +which before he refused to do, but when he perceaueth himself to be +arested, then he hath no remedie, but with all speede biddeth his wife +send to the Fr: Ambr: which she did and he spake for him, &c.' (Domestic +State Papers, James I., vol. cx. No. 37). Locke is here refering to +episodes occurring in the play from the third act onwards. In Act III. +sc. iv. Leidenberch is visited in prison by Barnavelt, who bids him 'dye +willingly, dye sodainely and bravely,' and adds, 'So will I: then let +'em sift our Actions from our ashes,'--words that Locke roughly quotes +(see p. 262 of Mr. Bullen's 'Old Plays,' vol. ii.). The first +performance of the tragedy we may thus assign to a day immediately +preceding the 27th of August, 1619. When we remember that Barnavelt was +executed on May 13th of the same year, we have in this play another +striking instance of the literal interpretation given by dramatists of +the day to Hamlet's definition of the purpose of playing." + +I have tried hard to decipher the passages that are scored through +(probably by the censor's pen) in the MS., but hitherto I have not had +much success. + +Vol. III.--_The Wisdome of Doctor Dodypoll_. + +The stealing of an enchanter's cup at a fairy feast by a peasant is a +favourite subject of fairy mythology. See Ritson's _Fairy Tales_. + +_The Distracted Emperor_. + +William Tyndale in his _Practyse of Prelates_, 1530, relates the wild +legend of Charlemagne's dotage:--"And beyond all that, the saying is +that in his old age a whore had so bewitched him with a ring and a pearl +in it and I wot not what imagery graven therein, that he went a salt +after her as a dog after a bitch and the dotehead was beside himself and +whole out of his mind: insomuch that when the whore was dead he could +not depart from the dead corpse but caused it to be embalmed and to be +carried with him whithersoever he went, so that all the world wondered +at him; till at the last his lords accombered with carrying her from +place to place and ashamed that so old a man, so great an emperor, and +such a most Christian king, on whom and on whose deeds every man's eyes +were set, should dote on a dead whore, took counsel what should be the +cause: and it was concluded that it must needs be by enchantment. Then +they went unto the coffin, and opened it, and sought and found this ring +on her finger; which one of the lords took off, and put it on his own +finger. When the ring was off, he commanded to bury her, regarding her +no longer. Nevertheless he cast a fantasy unto this lord, and began to +dote as fast on him, so that he might never be out of sight; but where +our Charles was, there must that lord also be; and what Charles did, +that must he be privy unto: until that this lord, perceiving that it +came because of this enchanted ring, for very pain and tediousness took +and cast it into a well at Acon [Aix la Chapelle], in Dutchland. And +after that the ring was in the well, the emperor could never depart from +the town; but in the said place where the ring was cast, though it were +a foul morass, yet he built a goodly monastery in the worship of our +lady, and thither brought relics from whence he could get them, and +pardons to sanctify the place, and to make it more haunted. And there he +lieth, and is a saint, as right is: for he did for Christ's Vicar as +much as the great Turk for Mahomet; but to save his holiness, that he +might be canonised for a saint, they feign that his abiding there so +continually was for the hot-baths' sake which be there." (_Works_, ed. +Parker Society, ii. 265.) + +Burton in the _Anatomy of Melancholy_, Part iii., Sect. 2, Memb. 3, +Subs. 5, briefly narrates the story. + +In the first scene of the _Distracted Emperor_, l. 17, for the reading +of the MS. "Can propp thy mynde, fortune's shame upon thee!" we should +undoubtedly substitute "Can propp thy ruynde fortunes? shame upon thee!" + +Dr. Reinhold Koehler of Weimar explains once for all the enigmatical +letters at the end of the play:--"The line denotes: + + Nella fidelta finiro _la vita_. + +For as the letters [Greeek: ph d ph n r] must be read by their Greek +names, so must also the B--better written [Greek: B]--be read by its +Greek name [Greek: Baeta], or by Neo-Greek pronunciation _vita_. With +this meaning the line is given in the work of Etienne Tabourot 'Les +Bizarrures du Seigneur des Accords,' which is said to have appeared +first in 1572 or 1582, in Chap. ii. on 'rebus par lettres.' I only know +the passage by a quotation in an interesting work by Johannes Ochmann +'Zur Kentniss der Rebus,' Oppeln, 1861, p. 18. I have also found our +rebus in a German novel entitled 'The Wonderful Life of the Merry +Hazard,' Cosmopoli, 1706. In this book, p. 282, it is related that a +priest wrote as a souvenir in Hazard's album:-- + + 'Nella [Greek: phd]. [Greek: phnr] la [Greek: B]. + As an assurance of his heart + That knows no joking + It said' ... ... + +And further (p. 283):--'Hazard knew not what to make of these mere Greek +letters and spent several days in fruitless thoughts, until the priest +let him understand that he was only to pronounce them, then he would +hear from the sounds that it was Italian and meant: Nella fidelta finiro +la vita.' This is the solution of the various hypotheses that have been +set up about the meaning of 'la B.'" + +Vol. IV.--_Everie Woman in her Humor_. + +P. 312 "_Phy_. Boy!--_Sleepe wayward thoughts_." The words "sleepe +wayward thoughts" are from a song in Dowland's _First Book of Songs or +Airs of four parts_, 1597. In Oliphant's _Musa Madrigalesca_ the song is +given thus:-- + + "Sleep, wayward thoughts, and rest you with my love; + Let not my love be with my love displeased; + Touch not, proud hands, lest you her anger move, + But pine you with my longings long diseased. + Thus, while she sleeps, I sorrow for her sake; + So sleeps my love--and yet my love doth wake. + + But, oh! the fury of my restless fear, + The hidden anguish of my chaste desires; + The glories and the beauties that appear + Between her brows, near Cupid's closed fires! + Sleep, dainty love, while I sigh for thy sake; + So sleeps my love,--and yet my love doth wake." + +P.335. "_For I did but kisse her_."--Mr. Ebsworth kindly informs me that +these words are from a song (No. 19) in _The First Booke of Songs and +Ayres_ (1601?) composed by Robert Jones. The song runs:-- + + "My Mistris sings no other song + But stil complains I did her wrong. + Beleeue her not, it was not so, + I did but kiss her and let her go. + + And now she sweares I did, but what, + Nay, nay, I must not tell you that: + And yet I will, it is so sweete, + As teehee tahha when louers meet. + + But womens words they are heedlesse, + To tell you more it is needlesse: + I ranne and caught her by the arme + And then I kist her, this was no harme. + + But she alas is angrie still, + Which sheweth but a womans will: + She bites the lippe and cries fie, fie, + And kissing sweetly away she doth flie. + + Yet sure her lookes bewraies content + And cunningly her bra[w]les are meant: + As louers use to play and sport, + When time and leisure is too short." + +On p. 373 Philautus gives another quotation from the same song. + +P. 340. "_The fryer was in the_--." Mr. Ebsworth writes:--"This song is +extant among the Pepysian Ballads (the missing word is equivalent to +'Jakes'): original of 'The Friar in the Well.'" + + + + +INDEX. + + +Academic playwrights +Accomodate +Addition +Adorning +Adson's new ayres +Agamemnon in the play +Agrippina +Alablaster ( = alabaster) +_Alchemist_, allusion to the play of the +A life ( = as my life) +Almarado (?) +Ambergreece +Andirons ("The andirons were the ornamental irons on each side of the + hearth in old houses, which were accompanied with small rests for + the ends of the logs."--_Halliwell_.) +Anotomye (For the spelling compare Dekker's Satiromastix-- + "because + Mine enemies with sharpe and searching eyes + Looke through and through me, carving my poore labours + Like an _Anatomy_."--_Dramatic Works_, ed. Pearson, i. 197.) +Anything for a quiett lyfe +Aphorisme +Aporn +Apple-squier +Arch-pillers +Argentum potabile +Artillery Garden +Artire +Ascapart +Assoyle + +Bables +Babyes +Back side +Bacon, Roger +Baffeld ( = treated ignominiously) +Bainardes Castle +Bale of dice +Bandogs +Banks' horse +Bantam +Barleybreak +Basolas manos +Basses +Bastard +Bavyn +Bayting +Beare a braine +Beetle +Bermudas +Berwick, pacification of +Besognio +Best hand, buy at the +Bezoar +Bilbo mettle +Biron, Marechal de +Bisseling +Blacke and blewe +Blacke gard +Black Jacks +Bob'd +Bombards +_Bonos nocthus_ +Booke ("Williams craves his booke") +Borachos +Bossed +Bottom, +Brass, coinage of +Braule +Braunched +Braves +Bree +Broad cloth, exportation of +Brond +Browne, Sir Thomas, quoted +Browne-bastard +Build a sconce.--See Sconce +Bull (the executioner) +Bullets wrapt in fire +Bullyes +Bumbarrels +Bu'oy +Burnt +Buskes +Busse, the (Hertogenbosch taken in 1629, after a memorable siege, by + Frederick Henry, Prince of Orange) + +Cage (prison) +Cales +_Calisto_, MS. play composed of scenes from Heywood's _Golden Age and + Silver Age_ +Canaries +Cap-case +Carack +Carbonado +Cardeq +Cardicue +Caroach +Carrackes +Carry coals +Case +Cast-of Merlins +Castrell +Catamountaine +Cater-trey +Caull +Cautelous +Censure +Champion +Chapman, George +Choake-peare +Chrisome +Cinque pace +Citie of new Ninivie +Clapdish +Closse contryvances +Coate +Cockerell +Coll +Comparisons are odorous +Consort +Convertite +Cooling carde +Coranta +Cornutus +Covent +Crak't +Crase +Cricket +Cupboard of plate ( = movable side-board) +Cut-beaten-sattyn (Cf. Marlowe's _Faustus_--"_beaten_ silk.") +Cutt-boy + +Daborne, Robert +Dametas +Day, John +Dead paies +Debosht ( = debauched) +Deneere +Depart +Detest +Devide +Dewse ace +Diamonds softened by goat's blood +Dicker +Diet-bread +Diety (For the spelling cf. Rowley's _All's Lost by Lust_, 1633, + sig. C. 4: + "Can lust be cal'd love? then let man seeke hell, + For there that fiery _diety_ doth dwell." + Again in the same play, sig. D. 2, we have-- + "Descend thy spheare, thou burning _Diety_." + John Stephens in his _Character of a Page_ [_Essayes and Characters_, + 1615] speaks of "Cupid's _diety_.") +Dion Cassius, quoted +Diophoratick +Disgestion +Disguest +Division +Doggshead +Door ("Keep the door" = act as a pander) +Doorkeeper +Dorsers +Dowland, John +Draw drie foote +Ducke +Duns the mouse +Dydoppers (dabchicks) + +Eare picker ( = barber) +_Edmond Ironside_, MS. chronicle-play +Empresas +Eringoes +Estridge +Exclaimes + +Family of Love +Fang +_Fatal Maryage_, MS. play +Father-in-law +Feare no colours +Feeres +Felt locks +Feltham's _Resolves_ +Fend ( = make shift with) +Fins (a very doubtful correction for _sins_) +Fisguigge +Flat cap +Flea ( = flay) +Fletcher, John, MS. copy of his _Elder Brother_; his share in the + authorship of _Sir John Van Olden Barnavelt_ +Flewd +Fly boat (see _Addenda_ to vol. i.) +Fool (play on the words _fool_ and _fowl_) +Fooles paradysse +_For I did but kisse her_ (See _Appendix_) +_Fortune my foe_ +Fox +Foxd +Free +Fry(?) +Futra + +Galleyfoist +German fencer +Getes +Ghosts crying _Vindicta_ +Gibb ("A male-cat, now generally applied to one that has been + castrated."--_Halliwell_.) +Giglot +Ginges +Glapthorne, quoted; the play of _The Lady Mother_ identical with + Glapthorne's _Noble Trial_ +Glass, patent for making +Gleeke +Gods dynes +Goll +Gondarino +Gossips +Grandoes +Groaning cake +Guarded ( = trimmed) +Gumd taffety that will not fret (See Nares' _Glossary, s_., + gumm'd velvet.) +Gundelet +Gyges + +Haberdine +Hadiwist +Hanging Tune +Hatto, Bishop +Head ("how fell ye out all a head?") +Hell +Hell, another couple in +Hemming +Hesperides ( = the garden of the Hesperides) +Heywood, Thomas, his play of _The Captives_; lines at the end of his + _Royal King and Loyal Subject_ identical with the Address _To the + Reader_ at the end of H. Shirley's _Martyd Souldier_; the play of + _Dick of Devonshire_ tentatively assigned to him; the MS. play + _Calisto_ composed of scenes from his _Golden Age and Silver Age_ +Hocas pocas +Holland's Leaguer +Horace, quoted (In the lines + "Now die your pleasures, and the dayes you pray + Your rimes and loves and jests will take away" + are imitated from Horace's _Ars Poetica_, ll. 55-6,-- + "Singula de nobis anni praedantur euntes; + Eripuere jocos, Venerem, convivia, ludum.") +Hott shotts +Hounslow Heath, Sword-blade manufactory at +Huckle bone +Huffing +Hunts up +Hypostacies + +Imbrocados (thrusts over the arm in fencing) +Incontinent +Iron mills +It ( = its) + +Jacke +Jiggs +Julius Caesar (puppet-show of) +Juvenal quoted + +Keepe +Knight a the post +Knowes me no more then the begger knowes his dish know him as well as + the begger, &c. +Kramis time + +Lacrymae +Ladies Downfall +_Lady Mother_, comedy by Glapthorne (identical with _The Noble Trial_, + entered in Stationers' Registers in 1660) +Lanch (unnecessarily altered to _lance_ in the text) +_Lancheinge of the May_, MS. play by W.M. Gent. +Lapwing +Larroones +Lather ( = ladder) (In _Women beware Women_ Middleton plays on the word:-- + "_Fab_. When she was invited to an early wedding, + She'd dress her head o'ernight, sponge up herself, + And give her neck three _lathers_. + _Gaar_. Ne'er a halter.") +Laugh and lye downe +Launcepresado +Law, the spider's cobweb +Legerity +Letters of mart +Leveret +Limbo +Line of life +Linstock +Long haire, treatise against (An allusion to William Prynne's tract + _The Unlovelinesse of Love-Lockes_.) +_Loves Changelings Changed_, MS. play founded on Sidney's Arcadia +Low Country Leaguer +Lustique + +Machlaean +Macrios +Magical weed +Makarell +Make ready +March beere +Marlins +Marlowe's _Hero and Leander_ quoted +Marriage, restrained by law at certain seasons +Martial quoted +Mary muffe +Masque (MS.) containing a long passage that is found in Chapman's + _Byron's Tragedie_ +Massinger, his share in the authorship of _Sir John Van Olden Barnavelt_ +Mawmets ( = puppets) +Mawmett ( = Mahomet) +Meath (A curious corruption of _Mentz_. Old printers distorted foreign + names in an extraordinary manner.) +Mechall +Mention ( = dimension) +Mew +Middleton, quotation from his _Family of Love_ +Minikin ( = fiddle) +Mistris +Moe +Monthes mind +Mooncalf +More hayre than wit +Morglay +Mosch +Mother +Motion ( = suggestion, proposal) +Mouse +Much (ironical) +Mumchance +Muscadine +Muschatoes ( = moustaches) +Mushrumps ( = mushrooms) +Music played between the acts +Muskadine with an egg +_My Love can sing no other song_ (See _Appendix_) +Mynsatives + +Nephewes +Nero, his poems +Newmarket +Nifle +Night rail +Ninivie, motion of +Noddy + +Old +Orphant +Outcryes +Outface with a card of ten +Overseene +Owe + +Pantables ( = slippers) +Paris Garden ditch +Pavine +Pedlars' French +Peele's _Hunting of Cupid_ +Peeterman +Persius quoted +Pharo, by the life of (This oath occurs in _first_ edition, 1601, of + _Every Man in his Humour_: in the revised edition it was altered to + "by the _foot_ of Pharaoh.") +Picardo +Pick-hatch +Pilchers +Pimblico +Pinks +Pioner +Plancher +Planet ("Some Planet striketh him") +Plashd +Platform +Plautus' _Rudens_, plot of Heywood's play _The Captives_ drawn from: + quotations from +Pomander +Poore Jhon +_Poore Man's Comfort_ (play by Robert Daborne), MS. copy of +Portage (Undoubtedly we should read _partage_.) +Pot-gun +Pricke-song +Prick and prayse ( = praise of excellence) +Princkocke +Proclamation that the gentry should reside at their mansions in the + country +Proculus +Prologue spoken by a woman +Protest, affected use of the word (See Dyce's _Shakespeare Glossary_.) +Puckfist +Puerelis +Puisne +Puisnes of the Inne +Pumpion +Pun[to] reversos ( = back-handed strokes in fencing) +Push +Putt a girdle round about the world +Puttock + +Quale + +Rabbit-suckers +Rabby Roses (The reference is, probably, to the Arabian physician + Rhazes.) +Racke +Rape, punishment for +Rascal +Rats rhymed to death +Refuse me +Regalias +Rest ("our rest we set") +Rest for every slave to pull at +Reverent ( = reverend) +_Richard II_., MS. play +Ride the wild mare (a rustic sport) +Rincht ( = rinsed) +Road +Roaring boys ( = roisterers) +Rochet +Rope-ripes +Rosemary +Rotten hares +Rudelesse vaile +Russeting + +Sackerson (In the footnote read H_u_nkes for H_a_nkes.) +Salt, sit beneath the +Sarreverence +Scandalum magnatum +Sconce, build a (I supposed that the expression meant "fix a candle in a + candlestick," but I am indebted to Mr. George L. Apperson for the true + explanation. He writes:--"In Dyche's _Dictionary_ (I quote from ed. + 1748) is the verb _sconce_, one of the definitions being--'a cant term + for running up a score at an alehouse or tavern'--with which cf. + Goldsmith's Essays (1765), viii, 'He ran into debt with everybody that + would trust him, and none could _build a sconce_ better than he.' This + explanation seems to me to make Thomas's remark a very characteristic + one." See Grose's _Classical Dictionary of the vulgar tongue_.) +Scottish witch +Scythians +Sentronell ( = centinel) +Seven deadly sinnes, pageant of +Shakespeare imitated; his use of the word road ("This Doll Tearsheet + should be some road") illustrated; mentioned in _Captain Underwit_ +Sharpe, play at. (Cf. _Swetnam the Woman Hater_, 1620, sig. G. 3:-- + "But cunning Cupid forecast me to recoile: + For when he _plaid at sharpe_ I had the foyle.") +Shellain +Sherryes +Ship, the great +Shipwreck by land +Shirley, James, author of _Captain Underwit_; quoted +Shoulder pack't +Shrovetide, hens thrashed at +Shrove Tuesday, riotous conduct of apprentices on +Sib +Signeor No +_Sister awake! close not your eyes!_ +Sister's thread +_Sleep, wayward thoughts_ (See _Appendix_) +Slug +Smell-feast +Snaphance +Sowse +Spanish fig +Sparabiles +Spend +Spenser, imitated +Spurne-point +Stafford's lawe +Stand on poynts +Standage +Stavesucre ( = staves-acre) +Steccadoes ( = stoccadoes, thrusts in fencing) +Stewd prunes +Stigmaticke +Stoope +Striker +Strive curtesies ( = stand upon ceremony) +Suds, in the +Suetonius, quoted +Sure +Surreverence + +Tacitus, quoted +Take me with you +Take in +Tarleton +Tarriers +_Tell Tale, the_, (MS. play) +Tent +Termagant +_The Fryer was in the_--(See _Appendix_) +Three Cranes +Thumb, to bite the +Ticktacks +Tickle minikin ( = play on the fiddle) +Timeless ( = untimely) +Tobacco (price of) +Toot +Totter +Totter'd +Traind band +Transportation of ordnance +Trevants. (_Trevant_ is a corruption of _Germ. Traban_ = guard.) +Trewe ( = honest) +Tripennies +Trondling +Trouses +True man +Trundle bed +Trunk-hose +Tub-hunter ( = parasite) +Turnops +_Two Noble Ladyes_. (The plot is partly founded on Calderon's + _Magico Prodigioso_.) + +Uncouth +Unicorn's horn +Unreadie +Upper stage +Ure + +Varlet +Vaunt-currying +Venetian +Verjuice made by stamping crab-apples +Vie +Vild +Virgil, quoted +Virginal +Virginall Jacks + +Warning-peece +Wax, limbes mad[e] out of +Webster's _White Devil_, allusion to +Welshmen proud of their gentility +Wet finger +What make you here? +_What thing is Love?_ +Whifflers +Whisht +White sonne +Whytinge mopp +Widgeing +Wildfowl ("Cut up wildfowl"--a slang expression) +Wilding +Windmills at Finsbury (See Stow's _Survey_, b. iii, p. 70, ed. 1720.) +Wit without money +Woad, patents for planting of ("_Woad_ is an herbe brought from the + parts of Tolouse in France, and from Spaine, much used and very + necessary in the dying of wollen cloath."--Cowell's _Interpreter_.) +_Woman Hater, the_ +Wonning +Woodcock ( = simpleton) + +Zygne ("Untill the zygne be gone below the hart") + + + + +FOOTNOTES: + + +[1] "The tragedy of Sir John Van Olden Barnavelt. Herdrukt naar de +Vitgrave van A.H. Bullen, met een Inleidung van R. Fruin. 'sGravenhage, +Martinus Nijhoff, 1884," 8vo., pp. xxxiii. 95. + +[2] I fondly hoped that vol. iii. was immaculate; but on p. 21, last +line, I find that _spring_ has been misprinted _soring_. On p. 290, l. 3, +_sewe_ is a misprint for _serve_. + +[3] It is curious that the next entry refers to a piece by Chettle +called "The Orphanes Tragedy," a title which at once reminds us of the +second plot of Yarington's play. + +[4] The actor who took the part of _Truth_ is to be in readiness to +enter: he comes forward presently. In plays printed from play-house +copies, stage-directions are frequently given in advance. + +[5] _Timeless_ in the sense of _untimely_ occurs in Marlowe, &c. + +[6] Old ed. "attended." + +[7] The old form of _guests_. + +[8] The word _fairing_ (i.e. a present brought home from a fair) is +explained by the fact that Beech was murdered on Bartholomew eve ("Tis +Friday night besides and Bartholomew eve"). Bartholomew Fair was held +the next day. + +[9] A famous tavern in Thames Street. + +[10] Proposal. + +[11] Nares supposed that the expression _fear no colours_ was "probably +at first a military expression, to fear no enemy. So Shakespeare derives +it [_Twelfth Night_, i. 5], and, though the passage is comic, it is +likely to be right." + +[12] "Here on" = hear one. + +[13] i.e. what are you doing here so late? + +[14] Old ed. "gentleman." + +[15] Old ed. "ends." + +[16] Mr. Rendle in his interesting account of the _Bankside and the +Globe Playhouse_ (appended to Pt. II. of Mr. Furnivall's edition of +Harrison's _England_) says:--"As to the features of the locality we may +note that it was intersected in all directions with streams, not shown +in the map of the manor, except _Utburne_, the _Outbourne_ possibly; and +that bridges abounded." + +[17] Use. + +[18] The music between the acts. + +[19] Pert youth. + +[20] i.e. thread of life. (An expression borrowed from palmistry: _line +of life_ was the name for one of the lines in the hand.) + +[21] Rashers. + +[22] See note [105] in Vol. III. + +[23] Old ed. "safely." + +[24] Bushes. In I _Henry IV_., 5, i., we have the adjective _busky_. +Spenser uses the subst. _busket_ (Fr. _bosquet_). + +[25] I can make nothing of this word, and suspect we should read "cry." + +[26] Quy. flewed (i.e. with large chaps)? Perhaps (as Mr. Fleay +suggests) flocked = flecked. + +[27] Old ed. "fathers." + +[28] i.e. had I known. "A common exclamation of those who repented of +anything unadvisedly undertaken."--Nares. + +[29] 4to. "tell." + +[30] Equivalent to a dissyllable (unless we read "damned"). + +[31] Baynard's Castle, below St. Paul's, was built by a certain Baynard +who came in the train of William the Conqueror. It was rebuilt by +Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester, and was finally consumed in the Great Fire +of London. + +[32] Perhaps this speech should be printed as verse. + +[33] Own. + +[34] 4to. "this." + +[35] 4to. "This." + +[36] 4to. "misguiseth." + +[37] _White_ was a term of endearment,--as in the common expression +_white boy_. + +[38] 4to. "ease-dropping." + +[39] Dwell. + +[40] Deformed, ugly (lit. branded with an iron). + +[41] Cf. Middleton's _Trick to Catch the Old One_, V. 2:-- + + "And ne'er start + To be let blood _though sign be at heart_;" + +on which passage Dyce remarks that "according to the directions for +bleeding in old almanacs blood was to be taken from particular parts +under particular planets." + +[42] Is admitted to "benefit of clergy." Harrison, in his _Description +of England_, tells us that those who "are saved by their bookes and +cleargie, are burned in the left hand, vpon the brawne of the thombe +with an hot iron, so that if they be apprehended againe, that marke +bewraieth them to have beene arraigned of fellonie before, whereby they +are sure at that time to have no mercie. I doo not read that this +custome of saving by the booke is vsed anie where else then in England; +neither doo I find (after much diligent inquirie) what Saxon prince +ordeined that lawe" (Book II. cap. xi.). See the article _Clergie_ in +Cowell's _Interpreter_ (1637). + +[43] Brand. + +[44] Therefore acted by the Queen of Bohemia's Company who at that time +occupied the Cockpit.--F.G. Fleay. + +[45] Some seven or eight years ago I pointed out in _Notes and Queries_ +that the idea of this droll incident was taken from a passage of Timaeus +of Tauromenium (see Athenaeus, _Deipnosoph_., ii. 5); but others--as I +afterwards learned--had anticipated my discovery. + +[46] This and the following speech are marked for omission in the MS. + +[47] The words "Not so, frend," are scored through. + +[48] The words "_Frenshe_ monster" are scored through. + +[49] "Makarel" = maquerelle (a bawd). + +[50] This passage illustrates 2 _Henry IV_., iv. 2:--"This Doll +Tearsheet should be some _road_." See my note on Middleton's _Your Five +Gallants_ (Works, vol. iii. p. 220). + +[51] Small boats with narrow sterns (Fr. pinque). Cf. Heywood's _I +Edward IV_.:--"Commend me to blacke _Luce_, bouncing _Bess_, and lusty +_Kate_, and the other pretty morsels of man's flesh. Farewell, _pink_ +and pinnace, flibote and carvel, _Turnbull_ and _Spittal_" +(Works, i. 38). + +[52] Fast-sailing vessels (Span, filibote). + +[53] The words "that ... husband" are scored through in the MS. + +[54] This and the two following lines are marked for omission. + +[55] The next word is illegible. + +[56] A long barge with oars. + +[57] "Misreated" = misrated? But the reading of the MS. is not plain. + +[58] "Do intend" is a correction in the MS. for "have bespoeke." + +[59] Old spelling of _convent_. + +[60] Cautious. + +[61] This speech is scored through. + +[62] The reading of the MS. is not clear. + +[63] Again I am doubtful about the reading of the MS. + +[64] "A shewer" = ashore. + +[65] Some letters are cut away in the MS. Perhaps Mildew was represented +with _Judas-coloured_ (i.e. red) hair; but Raphael presently describes +him as "graye and hoary," and afterwards we are told that he was bald. + +[66] Search, probe. + +[67] The stage-direction is not marked in the MS. + +[68] Track by the scent. + +[69] There is no stage-direction in the old copy. + +[70] This and the next three lines are marked for omission. + +[71] In this soliloquy Heywood closely follows Plautus: see _Rudens_, +i. 3, "Hanccine ego partem capio ob pietatem praecipuam," &c. + +[72] Three cancelled lines follow in the MS.:-- + + "So if you ... any mercy for him, + Oh if there be left any mercy for him + Nowe in these bryny waves made cleane for heaven." + +[73] This and the eight following lines appear to be marked for omission +in the MS. + +[74] This line is scored through in the MS. + +[75] This line is scored through in the MS. + +[76] The words "Some faggotts ... cloathes" are scored through in the MS. + +[77] "Monthes mind" = strong desire. + +[78] So the MS. But I am tempted to read, at Mr. Fleay's suggestion, +"steeples." + +[79] Cf. _Rudens_, ii. 1:-- + + "Cibum captamus e mari: sin eventus non venit, + Neque quidquam captum est piscium, salsi lautique pure, + Domum redimus clanculum, dormimus incoenati." + +[80] The words "hence we may ... wretched lyfe" are scored through in +the MS. + +[81] In the MS. the words "whither his frend travelled" are scored +through. + +[82] In the MS. follow some words that have been cancelled:--"Only, +for ought I can perceive all to no purpose, but understand of no such +people. But what are these things that have slipt us? No countrie shall +slippe me." + +[83] "Salvete, fures maritimi." _Rudens_, ii. 2. + +[84] Honest. + +[85] "_Trach_. Ecquem + Recalvum ac silonem senem, statutum, ventriosum, + Tortis superciliis, contracta fronte, fraudulentum, + Deorum odium atque hominum, malum, mali vitii probrique plenum, + Qui duceret mulierculas duas secum, satis venustas? + + _Pisc_. Cum istiusmodi virtutibus operisque natus qui sit, + Eum quidem ad carnificem est aequius quam ad Venerem + commeare."--_Rudens_, ii. 2. + +[86] See the Introduction. + +[87] In the MS. follow some cancelled words:--"Il fyrst in and see her +bycause I will bee suer tis shee. Oh, _Mercury_, that I had thy winges +tyde to my heeles." + +[88] "Who ever lov'd," &c.--A well-known line from Marlowe's _Hero and +Leander_. + +[89] There is no stage-direction in the MS. + +[90] Adulterous.--So Heywood in _The English Traveller_, iii. 1,-- +"Pollute the Nuptiall bed with _Michall_ [i.e. mechal] sinne." Again +in Heywood's _Rape of Lucreece_, "Men call in witness of your _mechall_ +sin." + +[91] This speech is scored through in the MS. + +[92] "Whytinge mopp" = young whiting. The term was often applied to a +girl. See Nares' _Glossary_. + +[93] In the MS. follow two lines that have been scored through:-- + + "And not deteine, for feare t'bee to my cost, + Though both my kisse and all my paynes be lost." + +[94] _Widgeon_ (like _woodcock_) is a term for a simpleton. + +[95] In the MS. follow two lines which have been so effectually scored +through that I can only read an occasional word. + +[96] In the MS. follows a cancelled passage:-- + + "_Mild_ Had not thy greater fraught bin shipt with myne + We had never been oversett. + + _Sarl_. I rather think + Had ... when fyrst the shippe began to dance + ... thrown all the curst Lading over-board + Wee had still light and tight." + +[97] The word _burn_ is frequently used in an indelicate sense. + +[98] Keys of the virginal (a musical instrument resembling a spinnet). + +[99] This speech is scored through in the MS. + +[100] The words "Heeres sweet stuffe!" are scored through. + +[101] This line is scored through. + +[102] Kill. + +[103] In the left-hand margin of the MS. is a stage-direction in +advance:--"_Fellowes ready. Palestra, Scribonia, with Godfrey, Mildew, +Sarly_." + +[104] Not marked in the MS. + +[105] MS. "when." + +[106] In the left-hand margin of the MS. is a note:--"_Gib: Stage +Taylor_." + +[107] "Too arch-pillers" = two desperate ruffians. "Pill" = ravage, +plunder. + +[108] "_Il a este au festin de Martin baston_, he hath had a triall in +_Stafford Court_, or hath received Jacke Drums intertainment." +--_Colgrave_. + +[109] From this point to the entrance of Raphael the dialogue is scored +through in the MS. + +[110] The reading of the MS. is doubtful. + +[111] "Guarded" = trimmed, ornamented. + +[112] This speech is scored through in the MS. + +[113] Not marked in the MS. + +[114] Not marked in the MS. + +[115] "Anythinge for a quiett lyfe"--a proverbial expression: the title +of one of Middleton's plays. + +[116] So I read at a venture. The MS. appears to give "Inseinge." + +[117] Not marked in the MS. In the right-hand margin is written "clere," +i.e., clear the stage for the next act. + +[118] A _fisgig_ was a sort of harpoon. + +[119] "Poore Jhon" = inferior hake. + +[120] This and the two following speeches are marked for omission in +the MS. + +[121] A nickname (from the apostle Peter) for a fisherman. + +[122] A small box or portmanteau. + +[123] Owns. + +[124] This speech and the next are marked for omission. + +[125] Fish-baskets. + +[126] The rest of the speech is marked for omission. + +[127] Bawd. + +[128] i.e., _Exeunt Palestra, Scribonia, and Godfrey: manet Ashburne_. + +[129] In the MS. follows some conversation which has been scored +through:-- + + "_Fisher_. Yes, syrrahe, and thy mayster. + + _Clown_. Then I have nothing at this tyme to do with thee. + + _Fisher_. Marry, a good motion: farewell and bee hangde. + + _Clown_. Wee are not so easly parted.--Is this your man?" + +[130] The following passage has been scored through in the MS.: + + "[_Ashb_.] Say, whats the stryfe? + + _Clown_. Marry, who fyrst shall speake. + + _Fisher_. Thats I. + + _Clown_. I appeale then to the curtesy due to a stranger. + + _Fisher_. And I to the right belonging to a ... what ere he says." + +[131] The MS. is broken away. + +[132] Penny. + +[133] The date has been scored through in the MS.: the number after "6" +has been turned into "3," but seems to have been originally "0." In the +margin "1530" is given as a correction. + +[134] Not marked in the MS. + +[135] This dialogue between Ashburne and the Clown is closely imitated +from _Rudens_, iv. 6. + +[136] The words "Nowe ... scurvy tune" are scored through. + +[137] Old form of _digest_. + +[138] The words "will for mee" are a correction in the MS. for "at this +tyme." + +[139] The MS. has:-- + + "Hee's now where hee's in Comons, wee ... ... + Heare on this seate (nay hold your head up, _Jhon_, + Lyke a goodd boy), freely discharged our selfes." + +In the first line "Hee's now where hee's" has been altered to "Hee's +where hee is," and the two next lines have been cancelled. + +[140] The reader will remember a somewhat similar incident in the _Jew +of Malta_, iv. 3, and in a well-known tale of the _Arabian Nights_. + +[141] In the left-hand margin of the MS. is written "_Fry: Jo: +nod_."--i.e., Friar John totters from the blow. Beneath "nod" is the +word "arras," which has been scored through. + +[142] i.e., I have't. + +[143] The exclamation of old Hieronimo's ghost in Kyd's _Spanish +Tragedy_. Cf. Induction to _Warning for Fair Women_:-- + + "Then, too, a filthy whining ghost + Lapt in some foul sheet, or a leather pilch, + Comes screaming like a pig half stick'd, + And cries, _Vindicta_!--Revenge, Revenge!" + +[144] "_Bases_, s.pl.--A kind of embroidered mantle which hung down from +the middle to about the knees, or lower, worn by knights on +horseback."--_Nares_. + +[145] In the right-hand margin is written "_Fact: Gibson_"--Gibson being +the name of the actor who took the Factor's part. + +[146] Not marked in the MS. + +[147] _Quart d'ecu_--a fourth part of a crown. + +[148] A quibble on the _aurum potabile_ of the old pharmacists. +--F.G. Fleay. + +[149] In the MS. is a marginal note, "_Stagekeepers as a guard_." + +[150] Sarleboyes' speeches are scored through in the MS. + +[151] This speech is scored through. + +[152] Mopper of a vessel. + +[153] A not uncommon corruption of _Mahomet_. + +[154] "Sowse" = (1) halfpenny (Fr. sou), (2) blow. In the second sense +the word is not uncommonly found; in the first sense it occurs in the +ballad of _The Red Squair_-- + + "It greivit him sair that day I trow + With Sir John Hinrome of Schipsydehouse, + For cause we were not men enow + He counted us not worth a _souse_." + +We have this word again on p. 208, "Not a _sowse_ less then a full +thousand crownes." + +[155] Prison. + +[156] A quibble. "Points" were the tags which held up the breeches. + +[157] This line is scored through. + +[158] Old form of _convert_. + +[159] _Analytical Index to the Series of Records known as the +Remembrancia_ (printed for the Corporation of London in 1878), +pp. 215-16. + +[160] See _Calendar of State Papers, Domestic_, 1611-18, p. 207. + +[161] See Gilford's note on _The Devil is an Ass_, ii. 1; +_Remembrancia_, p. 43; _Cal. of State Papers, Domestic_, 1611-18. + +[162] Quy. "true"? + +[163] Esteem, weigh. + +[164] The old ed. gives: "Ile trie your courage--draw." The last word +was undoubtedly intended for a stage-direction. + +[165] Equivalent, as frequently, to a dissyllable. + +[166] Exclamations. + +[167] Vile. + +[168] Not marked in the old ed. + +[169] Old ed. "fate." + +[170] Old ed. "brought." + +[171] Old ed. "wood."--"_Anno 35 Reginae (Eliz.)_ ... A License to +_William Aber_, To Sow _Six Hundred_ Acres of Ground with _Oade_ ... A +Patent to _Valentise Harris_, To Sow _Six Hundred_ Acres of Ground with +_Woade_."--Townshend's _Historical Collections_, 1680, p. 245. + +[172] See my remarks in the Introduction. + +[173] So the old ed. The metrical harshness may be avoided by reading +"And by this sword and crownet have resign'd" (or "And by this coronet +and sword resign"). + +[174] Owns. + +[175] Old ed. "Gorges."--I suppose there is an allusion, which must not +be taken too literally, to the story of Candaules and Gyges (see +Herodotus, lib. i. 8). + +[176] This is the unintelligible reading of the old ed.--"This action, +_sure_, breeds" &c., would be hardly satisfactory. + +[177] Lucian tells a story of a youth who fell in love with Praxiteles' +statue of Aphrodite: see _Imagines_, Sec. 4. He tells the story more +elaborately in his _Amores_. + +[178] Concert. + +[179] Old ed. "denie." + +[180] Before this line the old ed. gives the prefix "_Val_." Perhaps a +speech of Montano has dropped out. + +[181] Old ed. "although no a kin." + +[182] Old ed. "_light_ fall soft." Probably the poet originally wrote +"light," and afterwards wrote "fall" above as a correction (or "light" +may have been caught by the printer's eye from the next line). + +[183] _Doorkeeper_ was a common term for a pander. + +[184] Skin. + +[185] Old ed. "crowne."--My correction restores the sense and gives a +tolerable rhyme to "heare." Cf. p. 262. + + "And in this Chaire, prepared for a Duke, + Sit, my bright Dutchesse." + +[186] Old ed. "_Exit_." + +[187] Old ed. "have her honour." + +[188] In the Parliament of 1601 Sir Walter Raleigh and others vigorously +denounced the exportation of ordnance. See Townshend's _Historical +Collections_, 1680, pp. 291-5. + +[189] "Letters of Mart" = letters of marque. + +[190] Old ed. "now." + +[191] Old ed. "when." ("Then" = than.) + +[192] Old ed. "good." + +[193] Old ed. "this dissemblance." + +[194] See note [50]. + +[195] Old ed. "esteem'd." + +[196] "Open ... palpable ... grosse ... mountaine." The writer had +surely in his mind Prince Hal's words to Falstaff:--"These lies are +like their father that begets them: _gross_ as a _mountain, open, +palpable_." + +[197] Old ed. "Of Lenos mathrens." I have no doubt that my correction +restores the true reading. Cf. above "_Panders_ and _Parasites_ sit in +the places," &c. + +[198] Quy. "_On_, friends, to warre"? Perhaps something has dropped +out--"_Urge all_ our friends to warre." + +[199] Old ed. "dishonour'd." + +[200] Not marked in old ed. + +[201] This speech is not very intelligible, but I can only mend it by +violent changes. + +[202] Old ed. "payes all." + +[203] Old ed. "of this spatious play." + +[204] Crack. + +[205] Old ed. "sould." + +[206] Old ed. "are." + +[207] Old ed. "warre." + +[208] Old ed. "free." + +[209] Old ed. "And." + +[210] Old ed. "Then." + +[211] See remarks in the Introduction. + +[212] Old ed. "a jemme." + +[213] Quy. "creep" (for the sake of the rhyme)? + +[214] Gondola. + +[215] Old ed. "recover'd." + +[216] "_Timelesse_ lives taken away" = lives cut short by an _untimely_ +stroke. + +[217] Old ed. "prisoned." + +[218] Old ed. "playes." + +[219] In _As You Like It_, Rosalind, speaking the Epilogue, justifies +the novelty of the proceeding:--"It is not the fashion to see the lady +the epilogue; but it is no more unhandsome than to see the lord the +prologue."--Flavia is the earliest example, so far as I know, of a +lady-prologue. + +[220] Old ed. "Endeauours." + +[221] Old ed. "smile." The emendation was suggested to me by Mr. Fleay. + +[222] The old ed. gives "they are monsters _Graccus_, they call them," +assigning Graccus' speech to Acutus. + +[223] Old ed. "Of." + +[224] The old form of _bankrupt_. + +[225] _Canaries_ was the name of a lively dance. + +[226] A skeleton. Perhaps we should read "an atomy." + +[227] Not marked in old ed. + +[228] Not marked in old ed. + +[229] Old ed. "Sernulas." + +[230] Old ed. "Srnu." + +[231] Old ed. "Here's none but only I, sing." I take the word _sing_ to +be a stage-direction, and the preceding words to be part of a song. + +[232] "More hayre than wit"--a proverbial expression. Ray gives the +proverb, "Bush natural, more hair than wit." + +[233] Old ed. "Least." + +[234] Old ed. "_Phy_." Scilicet is offering a second ducket to his +instructor. + +[235] The rest of the speech is given to "_Seru_." in the old ed. + +[236] A sweet Spanish wine. + +[237] Not marked in old ed. + +[238] See note [63] in vol. II. + +[239] Old ed. "suret." + +[240] An allusion to the religious sect called _The Family of Love_. + +[241] Not marked in old ed. + +[242] Not marked in old ed. + +[243] The old ed. gives "burbarrels." The allusion is to the +_bum-rolls_,--stuffed cushions worn by women to make their petticoats +swell out. Cf. Stephen Gosson's _Pleasant Quippes_-- + + "If _barreld bums_ were full of ale, + They well might serve Tom Tapsters turne." + +[244] Old ed. "women." + +[245] Not marked in old ed. + +[246] Breeches that came below the garters. + +[247] I am unable to mend this passage. + +[248] Old ed. "looke."--Perhaps we should read "With him--ah, looke! +looke!--the bright," &c. + +[249] Old ed. "if they twang." + +[250] Not marked in old ed. + +[251] This is Mr. Fleay's correction for old ed.'s "Conceale." + +[252] Old ed. "In on the scale." + +[253] Not marked in old ed. + +[254] See note [85] in vol. II. + +[255] I suspect that we should read "my humour," and that the rest of +the speech should be given to Flavia. + +[256] The small bowl--the "Jack"--at which the players aimed in the game +of bowls. + +[257] Old ed. "_Scil_." + +[258] Old ed. "_Sernulus_." + +[259] An allusion to the _Sententiae Pueriles_ of Dionysius Cato, a +famous old school-book. + +[260] Not marked in old ed. + +[261] Old ed. "minited." + +[262] The first words of a charming song printed in Bateson's +_Madrigals_, 1604. Here is the song as I find it printed in the +excellent collection of _Rare Poems_ (1883) edited by my honoured +friend, Mr. W.J. Linton:-- + + "Sister, awake! close not your eyes! + The day its light discloses: + And the bright Morning doth arise + Out of her bed of roses. + + See! the clear Sun, the world's bright eye, + In at our window peeping! + Lo, how he blusheth to espy + Us idle wenches sleeping. + + Therefore, awake, make haste, I say, + And let us without staying, + All in our gowns of green so gay + Into the park a-maying." + +[263] "A sort of game played with cards or dice. Silence seems to have +been essential at it; whence its name. Used in later times as a kind of +proverbial term for being silent."--_Nares_. + +[264] Embrace. + +[265] Cf. _Titus Andronicus_, v. 1, "As true a dog as ever fought at +head." In bear-bating dogs were incited by the cry _To head, to head_! +See my edition of Marlowe, iii. 241. + +[266] Artery. + +[267] The sword of Sir Bevis of Southampton; hence a general term for a +sword. + +[268] Lint applied to wounds. + +[269] The mixture of muscadine and eggs was esteemed a powerful +provocative. + +[270] A corruption of _Span_. "buenos noches"--good night. + +[271] Old ed. "_Philantus_." + +[272] Old ed. "earely." + +[273] Bellafront in Pt. II. of _The Honest Whore_, iv. 1, says-- +"I, though with face mask'd, could not scape the _hem_." + +[274] Old ed. "let." + +[275] Old form of _pish_. + +[276] _Guard_ = fringe. The coats of Fools were _guarded_. + +[277] "Till death us _de_part"--so the form stood in the +marriage-service; now modernised to "do part." + +[278] Quean. + +[279] Not marked in old ed. + +[280] Not marked in old ed. + +[281] I have added the bracketed words; the sense requires them. + +[282] A musical term.--"The running a simple strain into a great variety +of shorter notes to the same modulation."--_Nares_. + +[283] Not marked in old ed. + +[284] Old ed. "Ye faith." + +[285] Old ed. "valley." + +[286] Old ed. "_Flau_." + +[287] Old ed. "_Tul_." + +[288] "Fortune, my foe, why doest thou frown on me?" is the first line +of an old ballad. + +[289] Not marked in old ed. + +[290] Old ed. "Tis." + +[291] "Unreadie" = undressed. + +[292] To the christening. + +[293] There is no stage-direction in the old ed. + +[294] Old ed. "foole." + +[295] "Duns the mouse"--a proverbial expression. See Dyce's _Shakespeare +Glossary_. + +[296] Old ed. "a close." + +[297] Not marked in old ed. + +[298] i.e. _bezzling_, tippling. + +[299] "Well nigh whittled, almost drunke, somewhat _overseen_." +--_Colgrave_. + +[300] Not marked in old ed. + +[301] Contracted. + +[302] An allusion to the proverbial expression, _Wit without money_. + +[303] An old form of "apron." + +[304] The citizens of London continued to wear flat caps (and +encountered much ridicule in consequence) long after they were generally +disused. + +[305] Not marked in old ed. + +[306] Not marked in old ed. + +[307] Old form of _digestion_. + +[308] Old ed. "Philantus." + +[309] More. + +[310] Old ed. "_Phylantus." + +[311] Quy. "and, swilling those bowels [bowls], Death did," &c.? + +[312] Old ed. "him himselfe." + +[313] See note [288].--In old ed. the words are given to _Grac_. + +[314] See note [295]. + +[315] Hip-bone. + +[316] Old ed. "are are." + +[317] Virg. _Ecls_. iv. 1. 49. _Bovis_ is of course an intentional +misquotation for _Jovis_. + +[318] Honest. + +[319] Old ed. "prig"; but on p. 375 we have "a mad merie grig." + +[320] The _City of Niniveh_ and _Julius Caesar_ were famous +puppet-shows. + +[321] Not marked in old ed. + +[322] Old ed. "and." + +[323] Old ed. "_Cittie Wife_." + +[324] This speech is printed as verse in the old ed. + +[325] Old ed. "witnesses." + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Collection Of Old English Plays, +Vol. IV., by Editor: A.H. 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