Actus Tertius. Scena Prima


_Enter_ Antigonus, _and_ Menippus.

_Ant_. Thou hast taken wondrous pains; but yet _Menippus_,
You understand not of what bloud and country.

_Men_. I labour'd that, but cannot come to know it.
A _Greek_ I am sure she is, she speaks this language.

_Ant_. Is she so excellent handsom?

_Men_. Most inticing.

_Ant_. Sold for a prisoner?

_Men_. Yes Sir,
Some poor creature.

_Ant_. And he loves tenderly?

_Men_. They say extreamly.

_Ant_. 'Tis well prevented then: yes, I perceiv'd it:
When he took leave now, he made a hundred stops,
Desir'd an hour, but half an hour, a minute,
Which I with anger cross'd; I knew his business,
I knew 'twas she he hunted on; this journey, man,
I beat out suddenly for her cause intended,
And would not give him time to breath. When comes she?

_Men_. This morning Sir.

_Ant_. Lodge her to all delight then:
For I would have her try'd to th' test: I know,
She must be some crackt coyn, not fit his traffique,  (her,
Which when we have found, the shame will make him leave
Or we shall work a nearer way: I'le bury him,
And with him all the hopes I have cast upon him,
E're he shall dig his own grave in that woman:
You know which way to bring her: I'le stand close there,
To view her as she passes: and do you hear _Menippus_,
Observe her with all sweetness: humour her,
'Twill make her lie more careless to our purposes.
Away, and take what helps you please.

_Men_. I am gone Sir.           [_Exeunt_.




Scena II.


_Enter_ Celia, _and_ Governess.

_Cel_. Governess, from whom was this Gown sent me?
Prethee be serious true; I will not wear't else:
'Tis a handsom one.

_Gov_. As though you know not?

_Cel_. No faith:
But I believe, for certain too, yet I wonder,
Because it was his caution, this poor way,
Still to preserve me from the curious searchings
Of greedy eyes.

_Gov_. You have it: does it please you?

_Cel_. 'Tis very rich, methinks too, prethee tell me?

_Gov_. From one that likes you well, never look coy, Lady;
These are no gifts, to be put off with powtings.

_Cel_. Powtings, and gifts? is it from any stranger?

_Gov_. You are so curious, that there is no talk to ye.
What if it be I pray ye?

_Cel_. Unpin good Governess,
Quick, quick.

_Gov_. Why, what's the matter?

_Cel_. Quick, good Governess:
Fie on't, how beastly it becomes me! poorly!
A trick put in upon me? well said Governess:
I vow I would not wear it--out, it smells musty.
Are these your tricks? now I begin to smell it,
Abominable musty; will you help me?
The Prince will come again--

_Gov_. You are not mad sure?

_Cel_. As I live I'le cut it off: a pox upon it;
For sure it was made for that use; do you bring me Liveries?
Stales to catch Kites? dost thou laugh too, thou base woman?

_Gov_. I cannot chuse, if I should be hang'd.

_Cel_. Abuse me,
And then laugh at me too?

_Gov_. I do not abuse ye:
Is it abuse, to give him drink that's thirsty?
You want cloaths; is it such a hainous sin I beseech ye,
To see you stor'd?

_Cel_. There is no greater wickedness
Than this way.

_Gov_. What way?

_Cel_. I shall curse thee fearfully,
If thou provok'st me further: and take heed, woman;
My curses never miss.

_Gov_. Curse him that sent it.

_Cel_. Tell but his name--

_Gov_. You dare not curse him.

_Cel_. Dare not?
By this fair light--

_Gov_. You are so full of passion--

_Cel_. Dare not be good? be honest? dare not curse him?

_Gov_. I think you dare not: I believe so.

_Cel_. Speak him.

_Gov_. Up with your valour then, up with it bravely,
And take your full charge.

_Cel_. If I do not, hang me;
Tell but his name.

_Gov_. 'Twas Prince Demetrius sent it:
Now, now, give fire, kill him i'th' eye now Lady.

_Cel_. Is he come home?

_Gov_. It seems so; but your curse now.

_Cel_. You do not lie, I hope.

_Gov. You dare not curse him.

_Cel_. Prethee do not abuse me: is he come home indeed?
For I would now with all my heart believe thee.

_Gov_. Nay, you may chuse: alas, I deal for strangers,
That send ye scurvie musty Gowns, stale Liveries:
I have my tricks.

_Cel_. 'Tis a good gown, a handsome one;
I did but jest; where is he?

_Gov_. He that sent it--

_Cel_. How? he that sent it? is't come to that again?
Thou canst not be so foolish: prethee speak out,
I may mistake thee.

_Gov_. I said he that sent it.

_Cel_. Curse o' my life: why dost thou vex me thus?
I know thou meanest Demetrius, dost thou not?
I charge thee speak truth: if it be any other,
Thou knowst the charge he gave thee, and the justice
His anger will'inflift, if e're he know this,
As know he shall, he shall, thou spightfull woman,
Thou beastly woman; and thou shalt know too late too,
And feel too sensible, I am no ward,
No sale stuff for your money Merchants that sent if?
Who dare send me, or how durst thou, thou--

_Gov_. What you please:
For this is ever the reward of service.
The Prince shall bring the next himself.

_Cel_. 'Tis strange
That you should deal so peevishly: beshrew ye,
You have put me in a heat.

_Gov_. I am sure ye have kill'd me:
I ne're receiv'd such language: I can but wait upon ye,
And be your drudge; keep a poor life to serve ye.

_Cel_. You know my nature is too easie, Governess,
And you know now, I am sorry too: how does he?

_Gov_. O God, my head.

_Cel_. Prethee be well, and tell me,
Did he speak of me, since he came? nay, see now,
If thou wilt leave this tyranny? good sweet governess,
Did he but name his _Celia_? look upon me,
Upon my faith I meant no harm: here, take this,
And buy thy self some trifles: did he good wench?

_Gov_. He loves ye but too dearly.

_Cel_. That's my good Governess.

_Gov_. There's more cloaths making for ye.

_Cel_. More cloaths?

_Gov_. More:
Richer and braver; I can tell ye that news;
And twenty glorious things.

_Cel_. To what use Sirrah?

_Gov_. Ye are too good for our house now: we poor wretches
Shall lose the comfort of ye.

_Cel_. No, I hope not.

_Gov_. For ever lose ye Lady.

_Cel_. Lose me? wherefore?
I hear of no such thing.

_Gov_. 'Tis sure it must be so:
You must shine now at Court: such preparation,
Such hurry, and such hanging rooms--

_Cel_. To th' Court wench?
Was it to th' Court thou saidst?

_Gov_. You'l find it so.

_Cel_. Stay, stay, this cannot be.

_Gov_. I say it must be:
I hope to find ye still the same good Lady.

_Cel_. To th' Court? this stumbles me: art sure for me wench,
This preparation is?

_Gov_. She is perilous crafty:
I fear too honest for us all too. Am I sure I live?

_Cel_. To th' Court? this cannot down: what should I do there?
Why should he on a suddain change his mind thus,
And not make me acquainted? sure he loves me;
His vow was made against it, and mine with him:
At least while this King liv'd: he will come hither,
And see me e're I goe?

_Gov_. Wou'd some wise woman
Had her in working. That I think he will not,
Because he means with all joy there to meet ye.
Ye shall hear more within this hour.

_Cel_. A Courtier?
What may that meaning be? sure he will see me
If he be come, he must: Hark ye good Governess,
What age is the King of?

_Gov_. He's an old man, and full of business.

_Cel_. I fear too full indeed: what Ladys are there?
I would be loth to want good company.

_Gov_. Delicate young Ladys, as you would desire;
And when you are acquainted, the best company.

_Cel_. 'Tis very well: prethee goe in, let's talk more.
For though I fear a trick, Fie bravely try it.

_Gov_. I see he must be cunning,
Knocks this Doe down.            [_Exeunt_.




Scena III.


_Enter_ Lieutenant, _and_ Leontius, _Drums within_.

_Leo_. You shall not have your will, sirrah, are ye running?
Have ye gotten a toy in your heels? Is this a season,
When honour pricks ye on, to prick your ears up,
After your whore, your Hobby-horse?

_Lieu_. Why look ye now:
What a strange man are you? would you have a man fight
At all hours all alike?

_Leo_. Do but fight something;
But half a blow, and put thy stomach to't:
Turn but thy face, and do-make mouths at 'em.

_Lieu_. And have my teeth knockt out; I thank ye heartily,
Ye are my dear friend.

_Leo_. What a devil ails thee?
Dost long to be hang'd?

_Lieu_. Faith Sir, I make no suit for't:
But rather Fhan I would live thus out of charity,
Continually in brawling--

_Leo_. Art thou not he?
I may be cosen'd--

_Lieu_, I shall be discover'd.

_Leo_. That in the midst of thy most hellish pains,
When thou wert crawling sick, didst aim at wonders,
When thou wert mad with pain?

_Lieu_. Ye have found the cause out;
I had ne're been mad to fight else: I confess Sir,
The daily torture of my side that vext me,
Made me as daily careless what became of me,
Till a kind sword there wounded me, and eas'd me;
'Twas nothing in my valour fought; I am well now,
And take some pleasure in my life, methinks now,
It shews as mad a thing to me to see you scuffle,
And kill one another foolishly for honour,
As 'twas to you, [t]o see me play the coxcomb.

_Leo_. And wilt thou ne're fight more?

_Lieu_. I'th' mind I am in.

_Leo_. Nor never be sick again?

_Lieu_. I hope I shall not.

_Leo_. Prethee be sick again: prethee, I beseech thee,
Be just so sick again.

_Lieu_. I'le just be hang'd first.

_Leo_. If all the Arts that are can make a Colique,
Therefore look to't: or if imposthumes, mark me,
As big as foot-balls--

_Lieu_. Deliver me.

_Leo_. Or stones of ten pound weight i'th' kidneys,
Through ease and ugly dyets may be gather'd;
I'le feed ye up my self Sir, I'le prepare ye,
You cannot fight, unless the Devil tear ye,
You shall not want provocations, I'le scratch ye,
I'le have thee have the tooth-ach, and the head-ach.

_Lieu_. Good Colonel, I'le doe any thing.

_Leo_. No, no, nothing--
Then will I have thee blown with a pair of Smiths bellows,
Because ye shall be sure to have a round gale with ye,
Fill'd full of oyle o'Devil, and _Aqua-fortis_,
And let these work, these may provoke.

_Lieu_. Good Colonel.

_Leo_. A coward in full bloud; prethee be plain with me,
Will roasting doe thee any good?

_Lieu_. Nor basting neither, Sir.

_Leo_. Marry that goes hard.

_Enter_ 1 Gentleman.

_1 Gent_. Where are you Colonel?
The Prince experts ye Sir; h'as hedg'd the enemy
Within a streight, where all the hopes and valours
Of all men living cannot force a passage,
He has 'em now.

_Leo_. I knew all this before Sir,
I chalk'd him out his way: but do you see that thing there?

_Lieu_. Nay good sweet Colonel, I'le fight a little.

_Leo_. That thing?

_1 Gent_. What thing? I see the brave Lieutenant.

_Leo_. Rogue, what a name hast thou lost?

_Lieu_. You may help it,
Yet you may help't: I'le doe ye any courtesie:
I know you love a wench well.

_Enter_ 2 Gentlemen.

_Leo_. Look upon him;
Do you look too.

_2 Gent_. What should I look on?
I come to tell ye, the Prince stayes your direction,
We have 'em now i'th' Coop, Sir.

_Leo_. Let 'em rest there,
And chew upon their miseries: but look first--

_Lieu_. I cannot fight for all this.

_Leo_. Look on this fellow.

_2 Gent_. I know him; 'tis the valiant brave Lieutenant.
Leo. Canst thou hear this, and play the Rogue? steal off quickly,
Behind me quickly neatly do it,
And rush into the thickest of the enemy,
And if thou kill'st but two.

_Lieu_. You may excuse me,
'Tis not my fault: I dare not fight.

_Leo_. Be rul'd yet,
I'le beat thee on; goe wink and fight: a plague upon your sheeps heart.

_2 Gent_. What's all this matter?

_1 Gent_. Nay I cannot shew ye.

_Leo_. Here's twenty pound, goe but smell to 'em.

_Lieu_. Alas Sir,
I have taken such a cold I can smell nothing.

_Leo_. I can smell a Rascal, a rank Rascal:
Fye, how he stinks, stinks like a tyred Jade.

_2 Gent_. What Sir?

_Leo_. Why, that Sir, do not you smell him?

_2 Gent_. Smell him?

_Lieu_. I must endure.

_Leo_. Stinks like a dead Dog, Carrion--
There's no such damnable smell under Heaven,
As the faint sweat of a Coward: will ye fight yet?

_Lieu_. Nay, now I defie ye; ye have spoke the worst ye can
Of me, and if every man should take what you say
To the heart.--

_Leo_. God ha' Mercy,
God ha' Mercy with all my heart; here I forgive thee;
And fight, or fight not, do but goe along with us,
And keep my Dog.

_Lieu_. I love a good Dog naturally.

_1 Gent_. What's all this stir, Lieutenant?

_Lieu_. Nothing Sir,
But a slight matter of argument.

_Leo_. Pox take thee.
Sure I shall love this Rogue, he's so pretty a Coward.
Come Gentlemen, let's up now, and if fortune
Dare play the slut again, I'le never more Saint her,
Come play-fellow, come, prethee come up; come chicken,
I have a way shall fit yet: A tame knave,
Come, look upon us.

_Lieu_. I'le tell ye who does best boyes.     [_Exeunt._




Scena IV.


_Enter_ Antigonus, _and_ Menippus, _above_.

_Men_. I saw her coming out.

_Ant_. Who waits upon her?

_Men_. _Timon_, _Charinthus_, and some other Gentlemen,
By me appointed.

_Ant_. Where's your wife?

_Men_. She's ready
To entertain her here Sir; and some Ladies
Fit for her lodgings.

_Ant_. How shews she in her trim now?

_Men_. Oh most divinely sweet.

_Ant_. Prethee speak softly.
How does she take her coming?

_Men_. She bears it bravely;
But what she thinks--For Heaven sake Sir preserve me--
If the Prince chance to find this.

_Ant_. Peace ye old fool;
She thinks to meet him here.

_Men_. That's all the Project.

_Ant_. Was she hard to bring?

_Men_. No she believ'd it quickly,
And quickly made her self fit, the Gown a little,
And those new things she has not been acquainted with,
At least in this place, where she liv'd a prisoner,
Troubled and stirr'd her mind. But believe me Sir,
She has worn as good, they sit so apted to her;
And she is so great a Mistris of disposure:
Here they come now: but take a full view of her.

_Enter_ Celia, Timon, Charinthus, _and_ Gent.

_Ant_. How cheerfully she looks? how she salutes all?
And how she views the place? she is very young sure:
That was an admirable smile, a catching one,
The very twang of Cupids bow sung in it:
She has two-edg'd eyes, they kill o' both sides.

_Men_. She makes a stand, as though she would speak.

_Ant_. Be still then.

_Cel_. Good Gentlemen, trouble your selves no further,
I had thought sure to have met a noble friend here.

_Tim_. Ye may meet many Lady.

_Cel_. Such as you are
I covet few or none, Sir.

_Char_. Will you walk this way,
And take the sweets o'th' garden? cool and close, Lady.

_Cel_. Methinks this open air's far better, tend ye that way
Pray where's the woman came along?

_Char_. What woman?

_Cel_. The woman of the house I lay at.

_Tim_. Woman?
Here was none came along sure.

_Cel_. Sure I am catcht then:
Pray where's the Prince?

_Char_. He will not be long from ye,
We are his humble Servants.

_Cel_. I could laugh now,
To see how finely I am cozen'd: yet I fear not,
For sure I know a way to scape all dangers.

_Tim_. Madam, your lodgings lye this way.

_Cel_. My Lodgings?
For Heaven sake Sir, what office do I bear here?

_Tim_. The great commander of all hearts.

_Enter_ Leucippe, _and_ Ladies.

_Cel_. You have hit it.
I thank your sweet heart for it. Who are these now?

_Char_. Ladies that come to serve ye.

_Cel_. Well consider'd,
Are you my Servants?

_Lady_. Servants to your pleasures.

_Cel_. I dare believe ye, but I dare not trust ye:
Catch'd with a trick? well, I must bear it patiently:
Methinks this Court's a neat place: all the people
Of so refin'd a size--

_Tim_. This is no poor Rogue.

_Leu_. Were it a Paradise to please your fancy,
And entertain the sweetness you bring with ye.

_Cel_. Take breath;
You are fat, and many words may melt ye,
This is three Bawdes beaten into one; bless me Heaven,
What shall become of me? I am i'th' pitfall:
O' my conscience, this is the old viper, and all these little ones
Creep every night into her belly; do you hear plump servant
And you my little sucking Ladies, you must teach me,
For I know you are excellent at carriage,
How to behave my self, for I am rude yet:
But you say the Prince will come?

_Lady_. Will flie to see you.

_Cel_. For look you if a great man, say the King now
Should come and visit me?

_Men_. She names ye.

_Ant_. Peace fool.

_Cel_. And offer me a kindness, such a kindness.

_Leu_. I, such a kindness.

_Cel_. True Lady such a kindness,
What shall that kindness be now?

_Leu_. A witty Lady,
Learn little ones, learn.

_Cel_. Say it be all his favour.

_Leu_. And a sweet saying 'tis.

_Cel_. And I grow peevish?

_Leu_. You must not be negleftfull.

_Cel_. There's the matter,
There's the main doctrine now, and I may miss it,
Or a kind handsom Gentleman?

_Leu_. You say well.

_Cel_. They'I count us basely bred.

_Leu_. Not freely nurtur'd.

_Cel_. I'le take thy counsel.

_Leu_. 'Tis an excellent woman.

_Cel_. I find a notable volum here, a learned one;
Which way? for I would fain be in my chamber;
In truth sweet Ladies, I grow weary; fie,
How hot the air beats on me!

_Lady_. This way Madam.

_Cel_. Now by mine honour, I grow wondrous faint too.

_Leu_. Your fans sweet Gentlewomen, your fans.

_Cel_. Since I am fool'd,
I'le make my self some sport, though I pay dear for't.     [_Ex._

_Men_. You see now what a manner of woman she is Sir.

_Ant_. Thou art an ass.

_Men_. Is this a fit love for the Prince:

_Ant_. A coxcombe:
Now by my crown a daintie wench, a sharp wench,
And/a matchless Spirit: how she jeer'd 'em?
How carelesly she scoff'd 'em? use her nobly;
I would I had not seen her: wait anon,
And then you shall have more to trade upon.     [_Exeunt._



Scena V.


_Enter_ Leontius, _and the_ 2 Gentlemen.

_Leo_. We must keep a round, and a strong watch to night,
The Prince will not charge the Enemy till the morning:
But for the trick I told ye for this Rascal,
This rogue, that health and strong heart makes a coward.

_1 Gent_. I, if it take.

_Leo_. Ne're fear it, the Prince has it,
And if he let it fall, I must not know it;
He will suspecl: me presently: but you two
May help the plough.

_2 Gent_. That he is sick again.

_Leo_. Extreamly sick: his disease grown incurable,
Never yet found, nor touch'd at.

_Enter_ Lieutenant.

_2 Gent_. Well, we have it,
And here he comes.

_Leo_. The Prince has been upon him,
What a flatten face he has now? it takes, believe it;
How like an Ass he looks?

_Lieu_. I feel no great pain,
At least, I think I do not; yet I feel sensibly
I grow extreamly faint: how cold I sweat now!

_Leo_. So, so, so.

_Lieu_. And now 'tis ev'n too true, I feel a pricking,
A pricking, a strange pricking: how it tingles!
And as it were a stitch too: the Prince told me,
And every one cri'd out I was a dead man;
I had thought I had been as well--

_Leo_. Upon him now Boys,
And do it most demurely.

_1 Gent_. How now _Lieutenant_?

_Lieu_. I thank ye Gentlemen.

_1 Gent_. 'Life, how looks this man?
How dost thou good _Lieutenant_?

_2 Gent_. I ever told ye
This man was never cur'd, I see it too plain now;
How do you feel your self? you look not perfect,
How dull his eye hangs?

_1 Gent_. That may be discontent.

_2 Gent_. Believe me friend, I would not suffer now
The tith of those pains this man feels; mark his forehead
What a cloud of cold dew hangs upon't?

_Lieu_. I have it,
Again I have it; how it grows upon me!
A miserable man I am.

_Leo_. Ha, ha, ha,
A miserable man thou shall be,
This is the tamest Trout I ever tickl'd.

_Enter_ 2 Physicians.

_1 Phy_. This way he went.

_2 Phy_. Pray Heaven we find him living,
He's a brave fellow, 'tis pity he should perish thus.

_1 Phy_. A strong hearted man, and of a notable sufferance.

_Lieu_. Oh, oh.

_1 Gent_. How now? how is it man?

_Lieu_. Oh Gentlemen,
Never so full of pain.

_2 Gent_. Did I not tell ye?

_Lieu_. Never so full of pain, Gentlemen.

_1 Phy_. He is here;
How do you, Sir?

_2 Phy_. Be of good comfort, Souldier,
The Prince has sent us to you.

_Lieu_. Do you think I may live?

_2 Phy_. He alters hourly, strangely.

_1 Phy_. Yes, you may live: but--

_Leo_. Finely butted, Doctor.

_1 Gent_. Do not discourage him.

_1 Phy_. He must be told truth,
'Tis now too late to trifle.

_Enter_ Demetrius, _and_ Gent.

_2 Gent_. Here the Prince comes.

_Dem_. How now Gentlemen?

_2 Gent_. Bewailing, Sir, a Souldier,
And one I think, your Grace will grieve to part with,
But every living thing--

_Dem_. 'Tis true, must perish,
Our lives are but our marches to our graves,
How dost thou now _Lieutenant?_

_Lieu_. Faith 'tis true, Sir,
We are but spans, and Candles ends.

_Leo_. He's finely mortified.

_Dem_. Thou art heart whole yet I see he alters strangely,
And that apace too; I saw it this morning in him,
When he poor man, I dare swear--

_Lieu_. No believ't, Sir,
I never felt it.

_Dem_. Here lies the pain now: how he is swel'd?

_1 Phy_. The Impostume
Fed with a new malignant humour now,
Will grow to such a bigness, 'tis incredible,
The compass of a Bushel will not hold it.
And with such a Hell of torture it will rise too--

_Dem_. Can you endure me touch it?

_Lieu_. Oh, I beseech you, Sir:
I feel you sensibly ere you come near me.

_Dem_. He's finely wrought, he must be cut, no Cure else,
And suddenly, you see how fast he blows out.

_Lieu_. Good Master Doctors, let me be beholding to you,
I feel I cannot last.

_2 Phy_. For what _Lieutenant?_

_Lieu_. But ev'n for half a dozen Cans of good Wine,
That I may drink my will out: I faint hideously.  (men,

_Dem_. Fetch him some Wine; and since he must go Gentle--Why
let him take his journey merrily.

_Enter_ Servant _with Wine._

_Lieu_. That's ev'n the nearest way.

_Leo_. I could laugh dead now.

_Dem_. Here, off with that.

_Lieu_. These two I give your Grace,
A poor remembrance of a dying man, Sir,
And I beseech you wear 'em out.

_Dem_._ I will Souldier,
These are fine Legacies.

_Lieu_. Among the Gentlemen,
Even all I have left; I am a poor man, naked,
Yet something for remembra[n]ce: four a piece Gentlemen,
And so my body where you please.

_Leo_. It will work.

_Lieu_. I make your Grace my Executor, and I beseech ye
See my poor Will fulfill'd: sure I shall walk else.

_Dem_. As full as they can be fill'd, here's my hand, Souldier.

_1 Gent_. The Wine will tickle him.

_Lieut_. I would hear a Drum beat,
But to see how I could endure it.

_Dem_. Beat a Drum there.       [_Drum within_.

_Lieu_. Oh Heavenly Musick, I would hear one sing to't;
I am very full of pain.

_Dem_. Sing? 'tis impossible.

_Lieu_. Why, then I would drink a Drum full:
Where lies the Enemy?

_2 Gent_. Why, here close by.

_Leo_. Now he begins to muster.

_Lieu_. And dare he fight?
Dare he fight Gentlemen?

_1 Phy_. You must not cut him:
He's gone then in a moment; all the hope left, is
To work his weakness into suddain anger,
And make him raise his passion above his pain,
And so dispose him on the Enemy;
His body then, being stir'd with violence,
Will purge it self and break the sore.

_Dem_. 'Tis true, Sir.

_1 Phy_. And then my life for his.

_Lieu_. I will not dye thus.

_Dem_. But he is too weak to do--

_Lieu_. Dye like a Dog?

_2 Phy_. I, he's weak, but yet he's heart whole.

_Lieu_. Hem.

_Dem_. An excellent sign.

_Lieu_. Hem.

_Dem_. Stronger still, and better.

_Lieu_. Hem, hem; ran, tan, tan, tan, tan.     [_Exit_.

_1 Phy_. Now he's i'th' way on't.

_Dem._ Well go thy waies, thou wilt do something certain.

_Leo._ And some brave thing, or let mine ears be cut off.
He's finely wrought.

_Dem._ Let's after him.

_Leo._ I pray, Sir;
But how this Rogue, when this cloud's melted in him,
And all discover'd--

_Dem._ That's for an after mirth, away, away, away.     [_Ex._




Scena VI.


_Enter Seleucus, Lysimachus, Ptolomie, Souldiers._

_Sel_. Let no man fear to dye: we love to sleep all,
And death is but the sounder sleep; all ages,
And all hours call us; 'tis so common, easie,
That little Children tread those paths before us;
We are not sick, nor our souls prest with sorrows,
Nor go we out like tedious tales, forgotten;
High, high we come, and hearty to our Funerals,
And as the Sun that sets, in bloud let's fall.

_Lysi_. 'Tis true, they have us fast, we cannot scape 'em
Nor keeps the brow of fortune one smile for us,
Dishonourable ends we can scape though,
And (worse than those Captivities) we can die,
And dying nobly, though we leave behind us
These clods of flesh, that are too massie burthens,
Our living souls flie crown'd with living conquests.

_Ptol_. They have begun, fight bravely, and fall bravely;
And may that man that seeks to save his life now
By price, or promise, or by fear falls from us,
Never again be blest with name of Souldier.

_Enter a Souldier._

_Sel_. How now? who charged first? I seek a brave hand
To set me off in death.

_Soul_. We are not charg'd, Sir,
The Prince lies still.

_Sel_. How comes this Larum up then?

_Soul_. There is one desperate fellow, with the Devil in him
(He never durst do this else) has broke into us,
And here he bangs ye two or three before him,
There five or six; ventures upon whole Companies.

_Ptol_. And is not seconded?

_Soul_. Not a man follows.

_Sel_. Nor cut i' pieces?

_Soul_. Their wonder yet has staid 'em.

_Sel_. Let's in, and see this miracle?

_Ptol_. I admire it.     [_Ex._

_Enter Leontius, and Gentlemen._

_Leon_. Fetch him off, fetch him off; I am sure he's clouted;
Did I hot tell you how 'twould take?

_1 Gent_. 'Tis admirable.

_Enter Lieutenant with Colours in his hand, pursuing 3 or 4 Souldiers._

_Lie_. Follow that blow, my friend, there's at your coxcombs,
I fight to save me from the Surgions miseries.

_Leo_. How the Knave curries 'em?

_Lieu_. You cannot Rogues,
Till you have my Diseases, flie my fury,
Ye Bread and Butter Rogues, do ye run from me?
And my side would give me leave, I would so hunt ye,
Ye Porridg gutted Slaves, ye Veal broth-Boobies.

_Enter Demetrius, and Physicians, and Gentlemen._

_Leo_. Enough, enough _Lieutenant_, thou hast done bravely.

_Dem_. Mirrour of man.

_Lieu_. There's a Flag for ye, Sir,
I took it out o'th' shop, and never paid for't,
I'le to 'em again, I am not come to th' text yet.

_Dem_. No more my Souldier: beshrew my heart he is hurt sore.

_Leo_. Hang him, he'l lick all th^se whole.

_1 Phy_. Now will we take him,
And Cure him in a trice.

_Dem_. Be careful of him.

_Lieu_. Let me live but two years,
And do what ye will with me;
I never had but two hours yet of happiness;
Pray ye give me nothing to provoke my valour,
For I am ev'n as weary of this fighting--

_2 Phy_. Ye shall have nothing; come to the Princes Tent
And there the Surgions presently shall search ye,
Then to your rest.

_Lieu_. A little handsome Litter
To lay me in, and I shall sleep.

_Leo_. Look to him.

_Dem_. I do believe a Horse begot this fellow,
He never knew his strength yet; they are our own.

_Leo_. I think so, I am cozen'd else; I would but see now
A way to fetch these off, and save their honours.

_Dem_. Only their lives.

_Leo_. Pray ye take no way of peace now,
Unless it be with infinite advantage.

_Dem_. I shall be rul'd;
Let the Battels now move forward,
Our self will give the signal:     _Enter_ Trumpet _and_ Herald.
Now Herald, what's your message?

_Her_. From my Masters,
This honourable courtesie, a Parley
For half an hour, no more, Sir.

_Dem_. Let 'em come on,
They have my Princely word.

_Enter_ Seleucus, Lysimacus, Ptolomie, _Attendants, Souldiers._

_Her_. They are here to attend ye.

_Dem_. Now Princes, your demands?

_Sel_. Peace, if it may be
Without the too much tainture of our honour:
Peace, and we'l buy it too.

_Dem_. At what price?

_Lysi_. Tribute.

_Ptol_. At all the charge of this War.

_Leo_. That will not do.

_Sel_. _Leontius_, you and I have serv'd together,
And run through many a Fortune with our swords,
Brothers in Wounds and Health; one meat has fed us,
One Tent a thousand times from cold night cover'd us:
Our loves have been but one; and had we died then,
One Monument had held our names, and actions:
Why do you set upon your friends such prices?
And sacrifice to giddy chance such Trophies?
Have we forgot to dye? or are our vertues
Less in afflictions constant, than our fortunes?
Ye are deceiv'd old Souldier.

_Leo_. I know your worths,
And thus low bow in reverence to your vertues:
Were these my Wars, or led my power in chief here,
I knew then how to meet your memories:
They are my Kings imployments; this man fights now,
To whom I ow all duty, faith, and service;
This man that fled before ye; call back that,
That bloudy day again, call that disgrace home,
And then an easie Peace may sheath our Swords up.
I am not greedy of your lives and fortunes,
Nor do I gape ungratefully to swallow ye.
Honour, the spur of all illustrious natures,
That made you famous Souldiers, and next Kings,
And not ambitious envy strikes me forward.
Will ye unarm, and yield your selves his prisoners?

_Sel_. We never knew what that sound meant: no Gyves
Shall ever bind this body, but embraces;
Nor weight of sorrow here, till Earth fall on me.

_Leo_. Expect our charge then.

_Lysi_. 'Tis the nobler courtesie:
And so we leave the hand of Heaven to bless us.

_Dem_. Stay, have you any hope?

_Sel_. We have none left us,
But that one comfort of our deaths together;
Give us but room to fight.

_Leo_. Win it, and wear it.

_Ptol_. Call from the hills those Companies hang o're us,
Like bursting Clouds; and then break in, and take us.

_Dem_. Find such a Souldier will forsake advantage,
And we'll draw off to shew I dare be noble,
And hang a light out to ye in this darkness,
The light of peace; give up those Cities, Forts,
And all those Frontier Countries to our uses.

_Sel_. Is this the Peace? Traitors to those that feed us,
Our Gods and people? give our Countries from us?

_Lysi_. Begin the Knell, it sounds a great deal sweeter.

_Ptol_. Let loose your servant, death.

_Sel_. Fall fate upon us,
Our memories shall never stink behind us.

_Dem_. Seleucus_, great _Seleucus_.

_Sol_. The Prince calls, Sir.

_Dem_. Thou stock of nobleness, and courtesie,
Thou Father of the War--

_Leo_. What means the Prince now?

_Dem_. Give me my Standard here.

_Lysi_. His anger's melted.

_Dem_. You Gentlemen that were his prisoners,
And felt the bounty of that noble nature,
Lay all your hands, and bear these Colours to him,
The Standard of the Kingdom; take it Souldier.

_Ptol_. What will this mean?

_Dem_. Thou hast won it, bear it off,
And draw thy men home whilest we wait upon thee.

_Sel_. You shall have all our Countries.

_Lysi. Ptol_. All by Heaven, Sir.

_Dem_. I will not have a stone, a bush, a bramble,
No, in the way of courtesie, I'le start ye;
Draw off, and make a lane through all the Army,
That these that have subdu'd us, may march through us.

_Sel_. Sir, do not make me surfeit with such goodness,
I'le bear your Standard for ye; follow ye.

_Dem_. I swear it shall be so, march through me fairly,
And thine be this days honour, great _Seleucus_.

_Ptol_. Mirrour of noble minds.

_Dem_. Nay then ye hate me.

_Leo_. I cannot speak now: _   [Ex. with Drums, and Shouts._
Well, go thy wayes; at a sure piece of bravery
Thou art the best, these men are won by th' necks now:
I'le send a Post away.

Actus Quartus. Scena Prima.


_Enter Antigonus, and Menippus._

_Ant_. No aptness in her?

_Men_. Not an immodest motion,
And yet when she is courted,
Makes as wild witty answers.

_Ant_. This more fires me,
I must not have her thus.

_Men_. We cannot alter her.

_Ant_. Have ye put the youths upon her?

_Men_. All that know any thing,
And have been studied how to catch a beauty,
But like so many whelps about an Elephant--
The Prince is coming home, Sir.

_Ant_. I hear that too,
But that's no matter; am I alter'd well?

_Men_. Not to be known I think, Sir.

_Ant_. I must see her.

_Enter 2 Gentlemen, or Lords._

_1 Gent_. I offered all I had, all I could think of,
I tri'd her through all the points o'th' compass, I think.

_2 Gent_. She studies to undo the Court, to plant here
The Enemy to our Age, Chastity;
She is the first, that e're bauk'd a close Arbour,
And the sweet contents within: She hates curl'd heads too,
And setting up of beards she swears is Idolatry.

_1 Gent_. I never knew so fair a face so froze;
Yet she would make one think--

_2 Gent_. True by her carriage,
For she's as wanton as a Kid to th' out side,
As full of Mocks and Taunts: I kiss'd her hand too,
Walkt with her half an hour.

_1 Gent_. She heard me sing,
And sung her self too; she sings admirably;
But still when any hope was, as 'tis her trick
To minister enough of those, then presently
With some new flam or other, nothing to the matter,
And such a frown, as would sink all before her,
She takes her Chamber; come, we shall not be the last fools.

_2 Gent_. Not by a hundred I hope; 'tis a strange wench.

_Ant_. This screws me up still higher.

_Enter Celia, and Ladies behind her._

_Men_. Here she comes, Sir.

_Ant_. Then be you gone; and take the Women with ye,
And lay those Jewels in her way.

_Cel_. If I stay longer
I shall number as many Lovers as _Lais_ did;
How they flock after me! upon my Conscience,
I have had a dozen Horses given me this morning,
I'le ev'n set up a Troop, and turn She-souldier,
A good discreet wench now, that were not hidebound
Might raise a fine estate here, and suddenly:
For these warm things will give their Souls--I can go no where
Without a world of offerings to my Excellence:
I am a Queen, a Goddesse, I know not what--
And no constellation in all Heaven, but I out-shine it;
And they have found out now I have no eyes
Of mortal lights, but certain influences,
Strange vertuous lightnings, humane nature starts at,
And I can kill my twenty in a morning,
With as much ease now--
Ha! what are these? new projects?
Where are my honourable Ladies? are you out too?
Nay then I must buy the stock, send me good Carding:
I hope the Princes hands be not in this sport;
I have not seen him yet, cannot hear from him,
And that troubles me: all these were recreations
Had I but his sweet company to laugh with me:
What fellow's that? another Apparition?
This is the lovingst Age: I should know that face,
Sure I have seen't before, not long since neither.

_Ant_. She sees me now: O Heaven, a most rare creature!

_Cel_. Yes, 'tis the same: I will take no notice of ye,
But if I do not fit ye, let me fry for't;
Is all this Cackling for your egg? they are fair ones,
Excellent rich no doubt too; and may stumble
A good staid mind, but I can go thus by 'em;
My honest friend; do you set off these Jewels?

_Ant_. Set 'em off, Lady?

_Cel_. I mean, sell 'em here, Sir?

_Ant_. She's very quick; for sale they are not meant sure.

_Cel_. For sanctity I think much less: good even Sir.

_Ant_. Nay noble Lady, stay: 'tis you must wear 'em:
Never look strange, they are worthy your best beauty.

_Cel_. Did you speak to me?

_Ant_. To you or to none living:
To you they are sent, to you they are sacrificed.

_Cel_. I'le never look a Horse i'th' mouth that's given:
I thank ye, Sir: I'le send one to reward ye.

_Ant_. Do you never ask who sent 'em?

_Cel_. Never I:
Nor never care, if it be an honest end,
That end's the full reward, and thanks but slubber it;
If it be ill, I will not urge the acquaintance.

_Ant_. This has a soul indeed: pray let me tell ye--

_Cel_. I care not if ye do, so you do it hansomly,
And not stand picking of your words.

_Ant_. The King sent 'em.

_Cel_. Away, away, thou art some foolish fellow,
And now I think thou hast stole 'em too: the King sent 'em?
Alas good man, wouldst thou make me believe
He has nothing to do with things of these worths,
But wantonly to fling 'em? he's an old man,
A good old man, they say too: I dare swear
Full many a year ago he left these gambols:
Here, take your trinkets.

_Ant_. Sure I do not lye, Lady.

_Cel_. I know thou lyest extreamly, damnably:
Thou hast a lying face.

_Ant_. I was never thus ratled.

_Cel_. But say I should believe: why are these sent me?
And why art thou the Messenger? who art thou?

_Ant_. Lady, look on 'em wisely, and then consider
Who can send such as these, but a King only?
And, to what beauty can they be oblations,
But only yours? For me that am the carrier,
'Tis only fit you know I am his servant,
And have fulfil'd his will.

_Cel_. You are short and pithy;
What must my beauty do for these?

_Ant. _Sweet Lady,
You cannot be so hard of understanding,
When a King's favour shines upon ye gloriously,
And speaks his love in these--

_Cel_. O then love's the matter;
Sir-reverence love; now I begin to feel ye:
And I should be the Kings Whore, a brave title;
And go as glorious as the Sun, O brave still:
The chief Commandress of his Concubines,
Hurried from place to place to meet his pleasures.

_Ant_. A devilish subtil wench, but a rare spirit.  (dry,

_Cel_. And when the good old spunge had suckt my youth
And left some of his Royal aches in my bones:
When time shall tell me I have plough'd my life up,
And cast long furrows in my face to sink me.

_Ant_. You must not think so, Lady.

_Cel_. Then can these, Sir,
These precious things, the price of youth and beauty;
This shop here of sin-offerings set me off again?
Can it restore me chaste, young, innocent?
Purge me to what I was? add to my memory
An honest and a noble fame? The Kings device;
The sin's as universal as the Sun is,
And lights an everlasting Torch to shame me.

_Ant_. Do you hold so sleight account of a great Kings favour,
That all knees bow to purchase?

_Cel_. Prethee peace:
If thou knewst how ill favouredly thy tale becomes thee,
And what ill root it takes--

_Ant_. You will be wiser.

_Cel_. Could the King find no shape to shift his pander into,
But reverend Age? and one so like himself too?

_Ant_. She has found me out.

_Cel_. Cozen the world with gravity?
Prethee resolve me one thing, do's the King love thee?

_Ant_. I think he do's.

_Cel_. It seems so by thy Office:
He loves thy use, and when that's ended, hates thee:
Thou seemest to me a Souldier.

_Ant_. Yes, I am one.

_Cel_. And hast fought for thy Country?

_Ant_. Many a time.

_Cel_. May be, commanded too?

_Ant_. I have done, Lady.

_Cel_. O wretched man, below the state of pity!
Canst thou forget thou wert begot in honour?
A free Companion for a King? a Souldier?
Whose Nobleness dare feel no want, but Enemies?
Canst thou forget this, and decline so wretchedly,
To eat the Bread of Bawdry, of base Bawdry?
Feed on the scum of Sin? fling thy Sword from thee?
Dishonour to the noble name that nursed thee?
Go, beg diseases: let them be thy Armours,
Thy fights, the flames of Lust, and their foul issues.

_Ant_. Why then I am a King, and mine own Speaker.

_Cel_. And I as free as you, mine own Disposer:
There, take your Jewels; let them give them lustres
That have dark Lives and Souls; wear 'em your self, Sir,
You'l seem a Devil else.

_Ant_. I command ye stay.

_Cel_. Be just, I am commanded.

_Ant_. I will not wrong ye.

_Cel_. Then thus low falls my duty.

_Ant_. Can ye love me?
Say I, and all I have--

_Cel_. I cannot love ye;
Without the breach of faith I cannot hear ye;
Ye hang upon my love, like frosts on Lilies:
I can dye, but I cannot love: you are answer'd.

_Ant_. I must find apter means, I love her truly.




Scena II.


_Enter_ Demetr. Leon. Lieu. Gent. Sould. _and_ Host.

_Dem_. Hither do you say she is come?

_Host_. Yes Sir, I am sure on't:
For whilest I waited upon ye, putting my Wife in trust,
I know not by what means, but the King found her,
And hither she was brought; how, or to what end--

_Dem_. My Father found her?

_Host_. So my Wife informs me.

_Dem_. _Leontius_, pray draw off the Souldiers,
I would a while be private.

_Leon_. Fall off Gentlemen,
The Prince would be alone.                        [Ex. Leo _and_ Soul.

_Dem_. Is he so cunning?
There is some trick in this, and you must know it,
And be an agent too: which if it prove so--

_Host_. Pull me to pieces, Sir.

_Dem_. My Father found her?
My Father brought her hither? went she willingly?

_Host_. My Wife sayes full of doubts.

_Dem_. I cannot blame her,
No more: there's no trust, no faith in mankind.

_Enter_ Antigonus, Menippus, Leontius, and Souldiers.

_Ant_. Keep her up close, he must not come to see her:
You are welcome nobly now, welcome home Gentlemen;
You have done a courteous service on the Enemy
Has tyed his Faith for ever; you shall find it;
Ye are not now in's debt Son: still your sad looks?
_Leontius_, what's the matter?

_Leo_. Truth Sir, I know not.
We have been merry since we went.

_Lieu_. I feel it.

_Ant_. Come, what's the matter now? do you want mony?
Sure he has heard o'th' wench.

_Dem_. Is that a want, Sir?
I would fain speak to your Grace.

_Ant_. You may do freely.

_Dem_. And not deserve your anger?

_Ant_. That ye may too.

_Dem_. There was a Gentlewoman, and sometimes my prisoner,
Which I thought well of Sir: your Grace conceives me.

_Ant_. I do indeed, and with much grief conceive ye;
With full as much grief as your Mother bare you.
There was such a Woman: would I might as well say,
There was no such, _Demetrius._

_Dem_. She was vertuous,
And therefore not unfit my youth to love her:
She was as fair--

_Ant_. Her beauty I'le proclaim too,
To be as rich as ever raign'd in Woman;
But how she made that good, the Devil knows.

_Dem_. She was--O Heaven!

_Ant_. The Hell to all thy glories,
Swallow'd thy youth, made shipwrack of thine honour:
She was a Devil.

_Dem_. Ye are my father, Sir.

_Ant_. And since ye take a pride to shew your follies,
I'le muster 'em, and all the world shall view 'em.

_Leo_. What heat is this? the Kings eyes speak his anger.

_Ant_. Thou hast abus'd thy youth, drawn to thy fellowship
Instead of Arts and Arms, a Womans kisses,
The subtilties, and soft heats of a Harlot.

_Dem_. Good Sir, mistake her not.

_Ant_. A Witch, a Sorceress:
I tell thee but the truth; and hear _Demetrius_,
Which has so dealt upon thy bloud with charms,
Devilish and dark; so lockt up all thy vertues;
So pluckt thee back from what thou sprungst from, glorious.

_Dem_. O Heaven, that any tongue but his durst say this!
That any heart durst harbour it! Dread Father,
If for the innocent the gods allow us
To bend our knees--

_Ant_. Away, thou art bewitch'd still;
Though she be dead, her power still lives upon thee.

_Dem_. Dead? O sacred Sir: dead did you say?

_Ant_. She is dead, fool.

_Dem_. It is not possible: be not so angry,
Say she is faln under your sad displeasure,
Or any thing but dead, say she is banished,
Invent a crime, and I'le believe it, Sir.

_Ant_. Dead by the Law: we found her Hell, and her,
I mean her Charms and Spells, for which she perish'd;
And she confest she drew thee to thy ruine,
And purpos'd it, purpos'd my Empires overthrow.

_Dem_. But is she dead? was there no pity Sir?
If her youth err'd, was there no mercy shown her?
Did ye look on her face, when ye condemn'd her?

_Ant_. I look'd into her heart, and there she was hideous.

_Dem_. Can she be dead? can vertue fall untimely?

_Ant_. She is dead, deservingly she died.

_Dem_. I have done then.
O matchless sweetness, whither art thou vanished?
O thou fair soul of all thy Sex, what Paradise
Hast thou inrich'd and blest? I am your son, Sir,
And to all you shall command stand most obedient,
Only a little time I must intreat you
To study to forget her; 'twill not be long, Sir,
Nor I long after it: art thou dead _Celia_,
Dead my poor wench? my joy, pluckt green with violence:
O fair sweet flower, farewel; Come, thou destroyer
Sorrow, thou melter of the soul, dwell with me;
Dwell with me solitary thoughts, tears, cryings,
Nothing that loves the day, love me, or seek me,
Nothing that loves his own life haunt about me:
And Love, I charge thee, never charm mine eyes more,
Nor ne're betray a beauty to my curses:
For I shall curse all now, hate all, forswear all,
And all the brood of fruitful nature vex at,
For she is gone that was all, and I nothing--     [_Ex. & Gent_.

_Ant_. This opinion must be maintained.

_Men_. It shall be, Sir.

_Ant_. Let him go; I can at mine own pleasure
Draw him to th' right again: wait your instructions,
And see the souldier paid, _Leontius_:
Once more ye are welcome home all.

_All_. Health to your Majesty.     [_Ex. Antig. &c._

_Leo_. Thou wentest along the journey, how canst thou tell?

_Host_. I did, but I am sure 'tis so: had I staid behind,
I think this had not proved.

_Leo_. A Wench the reason?

_Lieu_. Who's that talks of a Wench there?

_Leo_. All this discontent
About a Wench?

_Lieu_. Where is this Wench, good Colonel?

_Leo_. Prithee hold thy Peace: who calls thee to counsel?

_Lieu_. Why, if there be a Wench--

_Leo_. 'Tis fit thou know her:

    _Enter_ 2 Gentlemen.

That I'le say for thee, and as fit thou art for her,
Let her be mewed or stopt: how is it Gentlemen?

_1 Gent_. He's wondrous discontent, he'l speak to no man.

_2 Gent_. H'as taken his Chamber close, admits no entrance;
Tears in his eyes, and cryings out.

_Host_. 'Tis so, Sir,
And now I wish myself half hang'd ere I went this journey.

_Leo_. What is this Woman?

_Lieu_. I.

_Host_. I cannot tell ye,
But handsome as Heaven.

_Lieu_. She is not so high I hope, Sir.

_Leo_. Where is she?

_Lieu_. I, that would be known.

_Leo_. Why, Sirrah.

_Host_. I cannot show ye neither;
The King has now dispos'd of her.

_Leo_. There lyes the matter:
Will he admit none to come to comfort him?

_1 Gent_. Not any near, nor, let 'em knock their hearts out,
Will never speak.

_Lieu_. 'Tis the best way if he have her;
For look you, a man would be loth to be disturb'd in's pastime;
'Tis every good mans case.

_Leo_. 'Tis all thy living,
We must not suffer this, we dare not suffer it:
For when these tender souls meet deep afflictions,
They are not strong enough to struggle with 'em,
But drop away as Snow does, from a mountain,
And in the torrent of their own sighs sink themselves:
I will, and must speak to him.

_Lieu_. So must I too:
He promised me a charge.

_Leo_. Of what? of Children
Upon my Conscience, thou hast a double company,
And all of thine own begetting already.

_Lieu_. That's all one,
I'le raise 'em to a Regiment, and then command 'em,
When they turn disobedient, unbeget 'em:
Knock 'em o'th' head, and put in new.

_Leo_. A rare way;
But for all this, thou art not valiant enough
To dare to see the Prince now?

_Lieu_. Do ye think he's angry?

_1 Gent_. Extreamly vext.

_2 Gent_. To the endangering of any man comes near him.

_1 Gent_. Yet, if thou couldst but win him out,
What e're thy suit were,
Believe it granted presently.

_Leo_. Yet thou must think though,
That in the doing he may break upon ye,
And--

_Lieu_. If he do not kill me.

_Leo_. There's the question.

_Lieu_. For half a dozen hurts.

_Leo_. Art thou so valiant?

_Lieu_. Not absolutely so neither: no it cannot be,
I want my impostumes, and my things about me,
Yet I'le make danger, Colonel.

_Leo_. 'Twill be rare sport,
Howe're it take; give me thy hand; if thou dost this,
I'le raise thee up a horse Troop, take my word for't.

_Lieu_. What may be done by humane man.

_Leo_. Let's go then.

_1 Gent_. Away before he cool: he will relapse else.     [_Ex._

Scena III.


_Enter Antigonus, Menippus, and Leucippe._

_Ant_. Will she not yield?

_Leu_. For all we can urge to her;
I swore you would marry her, she laugh'd extreamly,
And then she rail'd like thunder.

_Ant_. Call in the _Magician_.      _Enter_ Magician _with a Bowl._
I must, and will obtain her, I am ashes else.
Are all the Philters in? Charms, Powders, Roots?

_Mag_. They are all in; and now I only stay
The invocation of some helping Spirits.

_Ant_. To your work then, and dispatch.

_Mag_. Sit still, and fear not.

_Leu_. I shall ne'r endure these sights.

_Ant_. Away with the Woman: go wait without.     [_Exit._

_Leu_. When the Devil's gone, pray call me.

_Ant_. Be sure you make it powerful enough.

_Mag_. Pray doubt not--                        _He Conjures._


A Song.

_Rise from the Shades below,
All you that prove
The helps of looser Love;
Rise and bestow
Upon this Cup, what ever may compel
By powerful Charm, and unresisted Spell,
A Heart un-warm'd to melt in Loves desires.
Distill into this Liquor all your fires:
Heats, longings, tears,
But keep back frozen fears;
That she may know, that has all power defied,
Art is a power that will not be denied._

The ANSWER.

_I Obey, I Obey,
And am come to view the day,
Brought along, all may compel,
All the Earth has, and our Hell:
Here's a little, little Flower,
This will make her sweat an hour,
Then unto such flames arise,
A thousand joys will not suffice.
Here's the powder of the Moon,
With which she caught_ Endymion;
_The powerful tears that_ Venus _cryed,
When the Boy_ Adonis _dyed,
_Here's _Medea'_s Charm, with which_
Jasons _heart she did bewitch,_
Omphale _this Spell put in,
When she made the _Libyan_ spin.
This dull root pluckt from _Lethe_ flood,
Purges all pure thoughts, and good.
  These I stir thus, round, round, round,
  Whilst our light feet beat the ground._

_Mag_. Now Sir, 'tis full, and whosoever drinks this
Shall violently doat upon your person,
And never sleep nor eat unsatisfied:
So many hours 'twill work, and work with Violence;
And those expired, 'tis done. You have my art, Sir.

_Enter Leucippe._

_Ant_. See him rewarded liberally--_Leucippe_.
Here, take this bowl, and when she calls for Wine next,
Be sure you give her this, and see her drink it;
Delay no time when she calls next.

_Leu_. I shall, Sir.

_Ant_. Let none else touch it on your life.

_Leu_. I am charg'd, Sir.

_Ant_. Now if she have an antidote art let her 'scape me.      [_Exeunt._




Scena IV.


_Enter Leontius, Lieutenant, Gent._

_1 Gent_. There's the door, Lieutenant, if you dare do any thing.

_Leo_. Here's no man waits.

_1 Gent_. H' as given a charge that none shall,
Nor none shall come within the hearing of him:
Dare ye go forward?

_Lieu_. Let me put on my Skull first.
My head's almost beaten into th' pap of an Apple.
Are there no Guns i'th' door?

_Leo_. The Rogue will do it.
And yet I know he has no Stomach to't.

_Lieu_. What loop-holes are there when I knock for stones,
For those may pepper me? I can perceive none.

_Leo_. How he views the Fortification.

_Lieu_. Farewel Gentlemen,
If I be kill'd--

_Leo_. We'll see thee buried bravely.

_Lieu_. Away, how should I know that then? I'll knock softly.
Pray heaven he speak in a low voice now to comfort me:
I feel I have no heart to't:--Is't well, Gentlemen?
Colonel, my Troop--

_Leo_. A little louder.

_Lieu_. Stay, stay;
Here is a window, I will see, stand wide.
By ---- he's charging of a Gun.

_Leo_. There's no such matter.
There's no body in this room.

_Lieu_. O 'twas a fire-shovel:
Now I'll knock louder; if he say who's there?
As sure he has so much manners, then will I answer him
So finely & demurely; my Troop Colonel--            [knocks louder.

_1 Gent_. Knock louder, Fool, he hears not.

_Lieu_. You fool, do you.
Do and you dare now.

_1 Gent_. I do not undertake it.

_Lieu_. Then hold your peace, and meddle with your own matters.

_Leo_. Now he will knock.                      [Knocks louder.

_Lieu_. Sir, Sir, will't please you hear Sir?
Your Grace, I'll look again, what's that?

_Leo_. He's there now.
Lord! How he stares! I ne'r yet saw him thus alter'd:
Stand now, and take the Troop.

_Lieu_. Would I were in't,
And a good horse under me: I must knock again,
The Devil's at my fingers ends: he comes now.
Now Colonel, if I live--

_Leo_. The Troop's thine own Boy.

_Enter_ Demetrius, _a Pistol._

_Dem_. What desperate fool, ambitious of his ruine?

_Lieu_. Your Father would desire ye, Sir, to come to dinner.

_Dem_. Thou art no more.

_Lieu_. Now, now, now, now.

_Dem_. Poor Coxcomb:
Why do I aim at thee?     [_Exit._

_Leo_. His fear has kill'd him.

_Enter Leucippe with a Bowl._

_2 Gent_. I protest he's almost stiff: bend him and rub him,
Hold his Nose close, you, if you be a woman,
Help us a little: here's a man near perish'd.

_Leu_. Alas alas, I have nothing here about me.
Look to my Bowl; I'll run in presently
And fetch some water: bend him, and set him upwards.

_Leo_. A goodly man--           [_Exit._
Here's a brave heart: he's warm again: you shall not
Leave us i'th' lurch so, Sirrah.

_2 Gent_. Now he breaths too.

_Leo_. If we had but any drink to raise his Spirits.
What's that i'th' Bowl? upon my life, good Liquor,
She would not own it else.

_1 Gent_. He sees.

_Leo_. Look up Boy.
And take this Cup, and drink it off; I'll pledge thee.
Guide it to his mouth, he swallows heartily.

_2 Gent_. Oh! fear and sorrow's dry; 'tis off--

_Leo_. Stand up man.

_Lieu_. Am I not shot?

_Leo_. Away with him, and chear him:
Thou hast won thy Troop.

_Lieu_. I think I won it bravely.

_Leo_. Go, I must see the Prince, he must not live thus;
And let me hear an hour hence from ye.
Well, Sir--       [_Exeunt Gent. and Lieu._

_Enter Leucippe with water._

_Leu_. Here, here: where's the sick Gentleman?

_Leo_. He's up, and gone, Lady.

_Leu_. Alas, that I came so late.

_Leo_. He must still thank ye;
Ye left that in a Cup here did him comfort.

_Leu_. That in the Bowl?

_Leo_. Yes truly, very much comfort,
He drank it off, and after it spoke lustily.

_Leu_. Did he drink it all?

_Leo_. All off.

_Leu_. The Devil choak him;
I am undone: h'as twenty Devils in him;
Undone for ever, left he none?

_Leo_. I think not.

_Leu_. No, not a drop: what shall become of me now?
Had he no where else to swound? a vengeance swound him:
Undone, undone, undone: stay, I can lye yet
And swear too at a pinch, that's all my comfort.
Look to him; I say look to him, & but mark what follows.     [_Ex._

_Enter Demetrius._

_Leo_. What a Devil ails the Woman? here comes the Prince again,
With such a sadness on his face, as sorrow,
Sorrow her self but poorly imitates.
Sorrow of Sorrows on that heart that caus'd it.

_Dem_. Why might she not be false and treacherous to me?
And found so by my Father? she was a Woman,
And many a one of that Sex, young and fair,
As full of faith as she, have fallen, and foully.

_Leo_. It is a Wench! O that I knew the circumstance.

_Dem_. Why might not, to preserve me from this ruine,
She having lost her honour, and abused me,
My father change the forms o'th' coins, and execute
His anger on a fault she ne'r committed,
Only to keep me safe? why should I think so?
She never was to me, but all obedience,
Sweetness, and love.

_Leo_. How heartily he weeps now!
I have not wept this thirty years, and upward;
But now, if I should be hang'd I cannot hold from't
It grieves me to the heart.

_Dem_. Who's that that mocks me?

_Leo_. A plague of him that mocks ye: I grieve truly,
Truly, and heartily to see you thus, Sir:
And if it lay in my power, gods are my witness,
Who e'r he be that took your sweet peace from you;
I am not so old yet, nor want I spirit--

_Dem_.No more of that, no more _Leontius_,
Revenges are the gods: our part is sufferance:
Farewell, I shall not see thee long.

_Leo_. Good Sir, tell me the cause, I know there is a woman in't;
Do you hold me faithful? dare you trust your Souldier?
Sweet Prince, the cause?

_Dem_. I must not, dare not tell it,
And as thou art an honest man, enquire not.

_Leo_. Will ye be merry then?

_Dem_. I am wondrous merry.

_Leo_. 'Tis wondrous well: you think now this becomes ye.
Shame on't, it does not, Sir, it shews not handsomely;
If I were thus; you would swear I were an Ass straight;
A wooden ass; whine for a Wench?

_Dem_. Prithee leave me.

_Leo_. I will not leave ye for a tit.

_Dem. Leontius?_

_Leo_. For that you may have any where for six pence,
And a dear penny-worth too.

_Dem_. Nay, then you are troublesome.

_Leo_. Not half so troublesom as you are to your self, Sir;
Was that brave Heart made to pant for a placket:
And now i'th' dog-days too, when nothing dare love!
That noble Mind to melt away and moulder
For a hey nonny, nonny! Would I had a Glass here,
To shew ye what a pretty toy ye are turn'd to.

_Dem_. My wretched Fortune.

_Leo_. Will ye but let me know her?
I'll once turn Bawd: go to, they are good mens offices,
And not so contemptible as we take 'em for:
And if she be above ground, and a Woman;
I ask no more; I'll bring her o' my back, Sir,
By this hand I will, and I had as lieve bring the Devil,
I care not who she be, nor where I have her;
And in your arms, or the next Bed deliver her,
Which you think fittest, and when you have danc'd your galliard.

_Dem_. Away, and fool to them are so affected:
O thou art gone, and all my comfort with thee!
Wilt thou do one thing for me?

_Leo_. All things i'th' World, Sir,
Of all dangers.

_Dem_. Swear.

_Leo_. I will.

_Dem_. Come near me no more then.

_Leo_. How?

_Dem_. Come no more near me:
Thou art a plague-sore to me.       [_Exit._

_Leo_. Give you good ev'n Sir;
If you be suffer'd thus, we shall have fine sport.
I will be sorry yet.

_Enter 2 Gentlemen._

_1 Gent_. How now, how does he?

_Leo_. Nay, if I tell ye, hang me, or any man else
That hath his nineteen wits; he has the bots I think,
He groans, and roars, and kicks.

_2 Gent_. Will he speak yet?

_Leo_. Not willingly:
Shortly he will not see a man; if ever
I look'd upon a Prince so metamorphos'd,
So juggl'd into I know not what, shame take me;
This 'tis to be in love.

_1 Gent_. Is that the cause on't?

_Leo_. What is it not the cause of but bear-baitings?
And yet it stinks much like it: out upon't;
What giants, and what dwarffs, what owls and apes,
What dogs, and cats it makes us? men that are possest with it,
Live as if they had a Legion of Devils in 'em,
And every Devil of a several nature;
Nothing but Hey-pass, re-pass: where's the _Lieutenant_?
Has he gather'd up the end on's wits again?

_1 Gent_. He is alive: but you that talk of wonders,
Shew me but such a wonder as he is now.

_Leo_. Why? he was ever at the worst a wonder.

_2 Gent_. He is now most wonderful; a Blazer now, Sir.

_Leo_. What ails the Fool? and what Star reigns now Gentlemen
We have such Prodigies?

_2 Gent_. 'Twill pose your heaven-hunters;
He talks now of the King, no other language,
And with the King as he imagines, hourly.
Courts the King, drinks to the King, dies for the King,
Buys all the Pictures of the King, wears the Kings colours.

_Leo_. Does he not lye i'th' King street too?

_1 Gent_. He's going thither,
Makes prayers for the King, in sundry languages,
Turns all his Proclamations into metre;
Is really in love with the King, most dotingly,
And swears _Adonis_ was a Devil to him:
A sweet King, a most comely King, and such a King--

_2 Gent_. Then down on's marrow-bones; O excellent King
Thus he begins, Thou Light, and Life of Creatures,
Angel-ey'd King, vouchsafe at length thy favour;
And so proceeds to incision: what think ye of this sorrow?

_1 Gent_. Will as familiarly kiss the King['s] horses
As they pass by him: ready to ravish his footman.

_Leo_. Why, this is above Ela?
But how comes this?

_1 Gent_. Nay that's to understand yet,
But thus it is, and this part but the poorest,
'Twould make a man leap over the Moon to see him act these.

_2 Gent_. With sighs as though his heart would break:
Cry like a breech'd boy, not eat a bit.

_Leo_. I must go see him presently,
For this is such a gig, for certain, Gentlemen,
The Fiend rides on a Fiddle-stick.

_2 Gent_. I think so.

_Leo_. Can ye guide me to him for half an hour? I am his
To see the miracle.

_1 Gent_. We sure shall start him.      [_Exeunt._




Scena V.


_Enter Antigonus and Leucippe._

_Ant_. Are you sure she drank it?

_Leu_. Now must I lye most confidently.
Yes Sir, she has drunk it off.

_Ant_. How works it with her?

_Leu_. I see no alteration yet.

_Ant_. There will be,
For he is the greatest Artist living made it.
Where is she now?

_Leu_. She is ready to walk out, Sir.

_Ant_. Stark mad, I know she will be.

_Leu_. So I hope, Sir.

_Ant_. She knows not of the Prince?

_Leu_. Of no man living--

_Ant_. How do I look? how do my cloaths become me?
I am not very grey.

_Leu_. A very youth, Sir,
Upon my maiden-head as smug as _April_:
Heaven bless that sweet face, 'twill undo a thousand;
Many a soft heart must sob yet, e'r that wither,
Your Grace can give content enough.

_Enter Celia with a Book._

_Ant_. I think so.

_Leu_. Here she comes, Sir.

_Ant_. How shall I keep her off me?
Go, & perfume the room: make all things ready.     [_Ex. Leu._

_Cel_. No hope yet of the Prince! no comfort of him!
They keep me mew'd up here, as they mew mad folks,
No company but my afflictions.
This royal Devil again! strange, how he haunts me!
How like a poyson'd potion his eyes fright me!
Has made himself handsome too.

_Ant_. Do you look now, Lady?
You will leap anon.

_Cel_. Curl'd and perfum'd? I smell him;
He looks on's legs too, sure he will cut a caper;
God-a-mercy, dear _December_.

_Ant_. O do you smile now;
I knew it would work with you; come hither pretty one.

_Cel_. Sir.

_Ant_. I like those courtesies well; come hither and kiss me.

_Cel_. I am reading, Sir, of a short Treatise here,
That's call'd the Vanity of Lust: has your Grace seen it?
He says here, that an Old Mans loose desire
Is like the Glow-worms light, the Apes so wonder'd at:
Which when they gather'd sticks, and laid upon't,
And blew, and blew, turn'd tail, and went out presently:
And in another place he calls their loves,
Faint Smells of dying Flowers, carry no comforts;
They're doting, stinking foggs, so thick and muddy,
Reason with all his beams cannot beat through 'em.

_Ant_. How's this? is this the potion? you but fool still;
I know you love me.

_Cel_. As you are just and honest;
I know I love and honour you: admire you.

_Ant_. This makes against me, fearfully against me.

_Cel_. But as you bring your power to persecute me,
Your traps to catch mine innocence to rob me,
As you lay out your lusts to overwhelm me,
Hell never hated good, as I hate you, Sir;
And I dare tell it to your face: What glory
Now after all your Conquests got, your Titles,
The ever-living memories rais'd to you,
Can my defeat be? my poor wrack, what triumph?
And when you crown your swelling Cups to fortune,
What honourable tongue can sing my story?
Be as your Emblem is, a g[l]orious Lamp
Set on the top of all, to light all perfectly:
Be as your office is, a god-like Justice,
Into all shedding equally your Vertues.

_Ant_. She has drencht me now; now I admire her goodness;
So young, so nobly strong, I never tasted:
Can nothing in the power of Kings perswade ye?

_Cel_. No, nor that power command me.

_Ant_. Say I should force ye?
I have it in my will.

_Cel_. Your will's a poor one;
And though it be a King's Will, a despised one.
Weaker than Infants legs, your will's in swadling Clouts,
A thousand ways my will has found to check ye;
A thousand doors to 'scape ye, I dare dye, Sir;
As suddenly I dare dye, as you can offer:
Nay, say you had your Will, say you had ravish'd me,
Perform'd your lust, what had you purchas'd by it?
What Honour won? do you know who dwells above, Sir,
And what they have prepar'd for men turn'd Devils?
Did you never hear their thunder? start and tremble,
Death sitting on your bloud, when their fires visit us.
Will nothing wring you then do you think? sit hard here,
And like a Snail curl round about your Conscience,
Biting and stinging: will you not roar too late then?
Then when you shake in horrour of this Villainy,
Then will I rise a Star in Heaven, and scorn ye.

_Ant_. Lust, how I hate thee now! and love this sweetness!
Will you be my Queen? can that price purchase ye?

_Cel_. Not all the World, I am a Queen already,
Crown'd by his Love, I must not lose for Fortune;
I can give none away, sell none away, Sir,
Can lend no love, am not mine own Exchequer;
For in anothers heart my hope and peace lies.

_Ant_. Your fair hands, Lady? for yet I am not pure enough
To touch these Lips, in that sweet Peace ye spoke of.
Live now for ever, and I to serve your Vertues--

_Cel_. Why now you show a god! now I kneel to ye;
This Sacrifice of Virgins Joy send to ye:
Thus I hold up my hands to Heaven that touch'd ye,
And pray eternal Blessings dwell about ye.

_Ant_. Vertue commands the Stars: rise more than Vertue;
Your present comfort shall be now my business.

_Cel_. All my obedient service wait upon ye.     [_Ex. severally._




Scena VI.


_Enter Leontius, Gentlemen, and Lieutenant._

_Leo_. Hast thou clean forgot the Wars?

_Lieu_. Prithee hold thy peace.

_1 Gent_. His mind's much elevated now.

_Leo_. It seems so.
Sirrah.

_Lieu_. I am so troubled with this Fellow.

_Leo_. He will call me Rogue anon.

_1 Gent_. 'Tis ten to one else.

_Lieu_. O King that thou knew'st I lov'd thee, how I lov'd thee.
And where O King, I barrel up thy beauty.

_Leo_. He cannot leave his Sutlers trade, he woos in't.

_Lieu_. O never, King.

_Leo_. By this hand, when I consider--

_Lieu_. My honest friend, you are a little sawcy.

_1 Gent_. I told you you would have it.

_Lieu_. When mine own worth--

_Leo_. Is flung into the ballance, and found nothing.

_Lieu_. And yet a Soldier.

_Leo_. And yet a sawcy one.

_Lieu_. One that has followed thee.

_Leo_. Fair and far off.

_Lieu_. Fought for thy grace.

_Leo_. 'Twas for some grief, you lye Sir.

_Lieu_. He's the son of a whore denies this: will that satisfie ye?

_Leo_. Yes, very well.

_Lieu_. Shall then that thing that honours thee?
How miserable a thing soever, yet a thing still;
And though a thing of nothing, thy thing ever.

_Leo_. Here's a new thing.

_2 Gent_. He's in a deep dump now.

_Leo_. I'le fetch him out on't. When's the King's birth-day?

_Lieu_. When e're it be, that day I'le dye with ringing.
And there's the resolution of a Lover.       [_Exit._

_Leo_. A goodly resolution sure I take it.
He is bewitch'd, or moop'd, or his brains melted,
Could he find no body to fall in love with; but the King,
The good old King, to doat upon him too?
Stay, now I remember, what the fat woman warn'd me,
Bid me remember, and look to him too:
I'le hang if she have not a hand in this: he's conjured,
Goe after him, I pity the poor Rascal,
In the mean time I'le wait occasion
To work upon the Prince.

_2 Gent_. Pray doe that seriously.     [_Ex. severally._




Scena VII.


_Enter Antigonus, Menippus, Lords._

_Lord_. He's very ill.

_Ant_. I am very sorry for't,
And much ashamed I have wronged her innocence,
_Menippus_, guide her to the Princes lodgings,
There leave her to his love again.

_Men_. I am glad Sir.

_Lord_. He will speak to none.

_Ant_. O I shall break that silence;
Be quick, take fair attendance.

_Men_. Yes Sir presently.      [_Exit._

_Ant_. He will find his tongue, I warrant ye; his health too;
I send a physick will not fail.

_Lord_. Fair work it.

_Ant_. We hear the Princes mean to visit us
In way of truce.

_Lord_. 'Tis thought so.

_Ant_. Come: let's in then,
And think upon the noblest wayes to meet 'em.     [_Exeunt._




Scena VIII.


_Enter Leontius._

_Leo_. There's no way now to get in: all the light stopt too;
Nor can I hear a sound of him, pray Heaven
He use no violence: I think he has more Soul,
Stronger, and I hope nobler: would I could but see once,
This beauty he groans under, or come to know
But any circumstance. What noise is that there?
I think I heard him groan: here are some coming;
A woman too, I'le stand aloof, and view 'em.

_Enter Menippus, Celia, Lords._

_Cel_. Well, some of ye have been to blame in this point,
But I forgive ye: The King might have pickt out too
Some fitter woman to have tri'd his valour.

_Men_. 'Twas all to the best meant, Lady.

_Cel_. I must think so,
For how to mend it now: he's here you tell me?

_Men_. He's Madam, and the joy to see you only
Will draw him out.

_Leo_. I know that womans tongue,
I think I have seen her face too: I'le goe nearer:
If this be she, he has some cause of sorrow:
'Tis the same face; the same, most excellent woman.

_Cel_. This should be Lord _Leontius_: I remember him.

_Leo_. Lady, I think ye know me.

_Cel_. Speak soft, good Souldier:
I do, and know ye worthy, know ye noble;
Know not me yet openly, as you love me;
But let me see ye again, I'le satisfie ye:
I am wondrous glad to see those eyes.

_Leo_. You have charged me.

_Cel_. You shall know where I am.

_Leo_. I will not off yet:
She goes to knock at's door: This must be she
The fellow told me of: right glad I am on't,
He will bolt now for certain.

_Cel_. Are ye within Sir?
I'le trouble you no more: I thank your courtesie,
Pray leave me now.

_All_. _Me_. We rest your humble servants.     [_Ex. Me. &c._

_Cel_. So now my jives are off: pray Heaven he be here!
Master, my royal Sir: do you hear who calls ye?
Love, my _Demetrius_.

_Leo_. These are pretty quail-pipes,
The Cock will Crow anon.

_Cel_. Can ye be drowsie,
When I call at your Window?

_Leo_. I hear him stirring:
Now he comes wondring out.

_Enter Demetrius._

_Dem_. 'Tis _Celias_ sound sure:
The sweetness of that tongue draws all hearts to it;
There stands the shape too.

_Le

_. How he stares upon her!

_Dem_. Ha? do mine eyes abuse me?
'Tis she, the living _Celia_: your hand Lady?

_Cel_. What should this mean?

_Dem_. The very self same _Celia_.

_Cel_. How do ye Sir?

_Dem_. Only turn'd brave.
I heard you were dead my dear one, compleat,
She is wondrous brave, a wondrous gallant Courtier.

_Cel_. How he surveyes me round? here has been foul play.

_Dem_. How came she thus?

_Cel_. It was a kind of death Sir,
I suffered in your absence, mew'd up here,
And kept conceal'd I know not how.

_Dem_. 'Tis likely:
How came you hither _Celia_? wondrous gallant:
Did my Father send for ye?

_Cel_. So they told me Sir,
And on command too.

_Dem_. I hope you were obedient?

_Cel_. I was so ever.

_Dem_. And ye were bravely us'd?

_Cel_. I wanted nothing:
My maiden-head to a mote i'th' Sun, he's jealous:
I must now play the knave with him, though I dye for't,
'Tis in my nature.

_Dem_. Her very eyes are alter'd:
Jewels, and rich ones too, I never saw yet--
And what were those came for ye?

_Cel_. Monstrous jealous:
Have I liv'd at the rate of these scorn'd questions?
They seem'd of good sort, Gentlemen.

_Dem_. Kind men?

_Cel_. They were wondrous kind:
I was much beholding to 'em;
There was one _Menippus_ Sir.

_Dem_. Ha?

_Cel_. One _Menippus_,
A notable merry Lord, and a good companion.

_Dem_. And one _Charinthus_ too?

_Cel_. Yes, there was such a one.

_Dem_. And _Timon_?

_Cel_. 'Tis most true.

_Dem_. And thou most treacherous:
My Fathers bawds by----they never miss course;
And were these daily with ye?

_Cel_. Every hour Sir.

_Dem_. And was there not a Lady, a fat Lady?

_Cel_. O yes; a notable good wench.

_Dem_. The Devil fetch her.

_Cel_. 'Tis ev'n the merriest wench--

_Dem_. Did she keep with ye too?

_Cel_. She was all in all; my bed-fellow, eat with me,
Brought me acquainted.

_Dem_. You are well know[n] here then?

_Cel_. There is no living here a stranger I think.

_Dem_. How came ye by this brave gown?

_Cel_. This is a poor one:
Alas, I have twenty richer: do you see these jewels?
Why, they are the poorest things, to those are sent me,
And sent me hourly too.

_Dem_. Is there no modestie?
No faith in this fair Sex?

_Leo_. What will this prove too?
For yet with all my wits, I understand not.

_Dem_. Come hither; thou art dead indeed, lost, tainted;
All that I left thee fair, and innocent,
Sweet as thy youth, and carrying comfort in't;
All that I hoped for vertuous, is fled from thee,
Turn'd black, and bankrupt.

_Leo_. 'By'r Lady, this cuts shrewdly.

_Dem_. Thou art dead, for ever dead; sins surfeit slew thee;
The ambition of those wanton eyes betrai'd thee;
Go from me, grave of honour; go thou foul one,
Thou glory of thy sin; go thou despis'd one,
And where there is no vertue, nor no virgin;
Where Chastity was never known, nor heard of;
Where nothing reigns but impious lust, and looser faces.
Go thither, child of bloud, and sing my doating.

_Cel_. You do not speak this seriously I hope Sir;
I did but jest with you.

_Dem_. Look not upon me,
There is more hell in those eyes, than hell harbours;
And when they flame, more torments.

_Cel_. Dare ye trust me?
You durst once even with all you had: your love Sir?
By this fair light I am honest.

_Dem_. Thou subtle _Circe_,
Cast not upon the maiden light eclipses:
Curse not the day.

_Cel_. Come, come, you shall not do this:
How fain you would seem angry now, to fright me;
You are not in the field among your Enemies;
Come, I must cool this courage.

_Dem_. Out thou impudence,
Thou ulcer of thy Sex; when I first saw thee,
I drew into mine eyes mine own destruction,
I pull'd into my heart that sudden poyson,
That now consumes my dear content to cinders:
I am not now _Demetrius_, thou hast chang'd me;
Thou, woman, with thy thousand wiles hast chang'd me;
Thou Serpent with thy angel-eyes hast slain me;
And where, before I touch'd on this fair ruine,
I was a man, and reason made, and mov'd me,
Now one great lump of grief, I grow and wander.

_Cel_. And as you are noble, do you think I did this?

_Dem_. Put all the Devils wings on, and flie from me.

_Cel_. I will go from ye, never more to see ye:
I will flie from ye, as a plague hangs o're me;
And through the progress of my life hereafter;
Where ever I shall find a fool, a false man,
One that ne're knew the worth of polish'd vertue;
A base suspecter of a virgins honour,
A child that flings away the wealth he cri'd for,
Him will I call _Demetrius_: that fool _Demetrius_,
That mad man a _Demetrius_; and that false man,
The Prince of broken faiths, even Prince _Demetrius_.
You think now, I should cry, and kneel down to ye,
Petition for my peace; let those that feel here
The weight of evil, wait for such a favour,
I am above your hate, as far above it,
In all the actions of an innocent life,
As the pure Stars are from the muddy meteors,
Cry when you know your folly: howl and curse then,
Beat that unmanly breast, that holds a false heart
When ye shall come to know, whom ye have flung from ye.

_Dem_. Pray ye stay a little.

_Cel_. Not your hopes can alter me.
Then let a thousand black thoughts muster in ye,
And with those enter in a thousand doatings;
Those eyes be never shut, but drop to nothing:
My innocence for ever haunt and fright ye:
Those arms together grow in folds; that tongue,
That bold bad tongue that barks out these disgraces.
When you shall come to know how nobly vertuous
I have preserv'd my life, rot, rot within ye.

_Dem_. What shall I doe?

_Cel_. Live a lost man for ever.
Go ask your Fathers conscience what I suffered,
And through what seas of hazards I sayl'd through:
Mine honour still advanced in spight of tempests,
Then take your leave of love; and confess freely,
You were never worthy of this heart that serv'd ye,
And so farewel ungratefull--          [_Exit._

_Dem_. Is she gone?

_Leo_. I'le follow her, and will find out this matter.--     [_Exit._

_Enter_ Antigonus, _and_ Lords.

_Ant_. Are ye pleas'd now? have you got your heart again?
Have I restor'd ye that?

_Dem_. Sir even for Heaven sake,
And sacred truth sake, tell me how ye found her.

_Ant_. I will, and in few words. Before I tri'd her,
'Tis true, I thought her most unfit your fellowship,
And fear'd her too: which fear begot that story
I told ye first: but since, like gold I toucht her.

_Dem_. And how dear Sir?

_Ant_. Heavens holy light's not purer:
The constancy and goodness of all women
That ever liv'd, to win the names of worthy,
This noble Maid has doubled in her: honour,
All promises of wealth, all art to win her,
And by all tongues imploy'd, wrought as much on her
As one may doe upon the Sun at noon day
By lighting Candles up: her shape is heavenly,
And to that heavenly shape her thoughts are angels.

_Dem_. Why did you tell me Sir?

_Ant_. 'Tis true, I err'd in't:
But since I made a full proof of her vertue,
I find a King too poor a servant for her.
Love her, and honour her; in all observe her.
She must be something more than time yet tells her:
And certain I believe him b[l]est, enjoyes her:
I would not lose the hope of such a Daughter,
To adde another Empire to my honour.--      [_Exit._

_Dem_. O wretched state! to what end shall I turn me?
And where begins my penance? now, what service
Will win her love again? my death must doe it:
And if that sacrifice can purge my follies,
Be pleas'd, O mightie Love, I dye thy servant--     [_Exit._

Actus Quintus. Scena Prima


_Enter_ Leontius, _and_ Celia.

_Leo_. I know he do's not deserve ye; h'as us'd you poorly:
And to redeem himself--

_Cel_. Redeem?

_Leo_. I know it--
There's no way left.

_Cel_. For Heavens sake do not name him,
Do not think on him Sir, he's so far from me
In all my thoughts now, methinks I never knew him.

_Leo_. But yet I would see him again.

_Cel_. No, never, never.

_Leo_. I do not mean to lend him any comfort;
But to afflict him, so to torture him;
That even his very Soul may shake within him:
To make him know, though he be great and powerfull,
'Tis not within his aim to deal dishonourably,
And carry it off; and with a maid of your sort.

_Cel_. I must confess, I could most spightfully afflict him;
Now, now, I could whet my anger at him;
Now arm'd with bitterness, I could shoot through him;
I long to vex him.

_Leo_. And doe it home, and bravely.

_Cel_. Were I a man!

_Leo_. I'le help that weakness in ye:
I honour ye, and serve ye.

_Cel_. Not only to disclaim me,
When he had seal'd his vowes in Heaven, sworn to me,
And poor believing I became his servant:
But most maliciously to brand my credit,
Stain my pure name.

_Leo_. I would not suffer it:
See him I would again, and to his teeth too:
Od's precious, I would ring him such a lesson--

_Cel_. I have done that already.

_Leo_. Nothing, nothing:
It was too poor a purge; besides, by this time
He has found his fault, and feels the hells that follow it.
That, and your urg'd on anger to the highest,
Why, 'twill be such a stroak--

_Cel_. Say he repent then,
And seek with tears to soften, I am a woman;
A woman that have lov'd him, Sir, have honour'd him:
I am no more.

_Leo_. Why, you may deal thereafter.

_Cel_. If I forgive him, I am lost.

_Leo_. Hold there then,
The sport will be to what a poor submission--
But keep you strong.

_Cel_. I would not see him.

_Leo_. Yes,
You shall Ring his knell.

_Cel_. How if I kill him?

_Leo_. Kill him? why, let him dye.

_Cel_. I know 'tis fit so.
But why should I that lov'd him once, destroy him?
O had he scap't this sin, what a brave Gentleman--

_Leo_. I must confess, had this not faln, a nobler,
A handsomer, the whole world had not show'd ye:
And to his making such a mind--

_Cel_. 'Tis certain:
But all this I must now forget.

_Leo_. You shall not
If I have any art: goe up sweet Lady,
And trust my truth.

_Cel_. But good Sir bring him not.

_Leo_. I would not for the honour ye are born to,
But you shall see him, and neglect him too, and scorn him.

_Cel_. You will be near me then.

_Leo_. I will be with ye;
Yet there's some hope to stop this gap, I'le work hard.     [_Ex._




Scena II.


_Enter Antigonus, Menip. two Gent. Lieutenant, and Lords._

_Ant_. But is it possible this fellow took it?

_2 Gent_. It seems so by the violence it wrought with,
Yet now the fits ev'n off.

_Men_. I beseech your Grace.

_Ant_. Nay, I forgive thy wife with all my heart,
And am right glad she drank it not her self,
And more glad that the vertuous maid escap't it,
I would not for the world 'thad hit: but that this Souldier,
Lord how he looks, that he should take this vomit;
Can he make rimes too?

_2 Gent_. H'as made a thousand Sir,
And plaies the burthen to 'em on a Jews-trump,

_Ant_. He looks as though he were bepist: do you love me Sir?

_Lieu_. Yes surely even with all my heart.

_Ant_. I thank ye;
I am glad I have so good a subject: but pray ye tell me,
How much did ye love me, before ye drank this matter?

_Lieu_. Even as much as a sober man might; and a Souldier
That your grace owes just half a years pay to.

_Ant_. Well remembred;
And did I seem so young and amiable to ye?

_Lieu_. Methought you were the sweetest youth--

_Ant_. That's excellent.

_Lieu_. I truly Sir: and ever as I thought on ye,
I wished, and wished--

_Ant_. What didst thou wish prethee?

_Lieu_. Ev'n, that I had been a wench of fifteen for ye,
A handsom wench Sir.

_Ant_. Why? God a Mercy Souldier:
I seem not so now to thee.

_Lieu_. Not all out:
And yet I have a grudging to your grace still.

_Ant_. Thou wast never in love before?

_Lieu_. Not with a King,
And hope I shall never be again: Truly Sir,
I have had such plunges, and such bickrings,
And as it were such runnings atilt within me,
For whatsoever it was provok't me toward ye.

_Ant_. God a-mercy still.

_Lieu_. I had it with a vengeance,
It plaid his prize.

_Ant_. I would not have been a wench then,
Though of this age.

_Lieu_. No sure, I should have spoil'd ye.

_Ant_. Well, goe thy waies, of all the lusty lovers
That e're I saw--wilt have another potion?

_Lieu_. If you will be another thing, have at ye.

_Ant_. Ha, ha, ha: give me thy hand, from henceforth thou art my souldier,
Do bravely, I'le love thee as much.

_Lieu_. I thank ye;
But if you were mine enemy, I would not wish it ye:
I beseech your Grace, pay me my charge.

_2 Gent_. That's certain Sir;
Ha's bought up all that e're he found was like ye,
Or any thing you have lov'd, that he could purchase;
Old horses, that your Grace has ridden blind, and foundr'd;
Dogs, rotten hawks, and which is more than all this,
Has worn your Grace's Gauntlet in his Bonnet.

_Ant_. Bring in your Bills: mine own love shall be satisfi'd;
And sirrah, for this potion you have taken,
I'le point ye out a portion ye shall live on.

_Men_. 'Twas the best draught that e're ye drunk.

_Lieu_. I hope so.

_Ant_. Are the Princes come to th' Court?

_Men_. They are all, and lodg'd Sir.

_Ant_. Come then, make ready for their entertainment,
Which presently we'l give: wait you on me Sir.

_Lieu_. I shall love drink the better whilst I live boyes.     [_Exeunt._




Scena III


_Enter Demetrius, and Leontius.

_Dem_. Let me but see her, dear _Leontius_;
Let me but dye before her.

_Leo_. Would that would doe it:
If I knew where she lay now, with what honestie,
You having flung so main a mischief on her,
And on so innocent and sweet a Beauty,
Dare I present your visit?

_Dem_. I'le repent all:
And with the greatest sacrifice of sorrow,
That ever Lover made.

_Leo_. 'Twill be too late Sir:
I know not what will become of you.

_Dem_. You can help me.

_Leo_. It may be to her sight: what are you nearer?
She has sworn she will not speak to ye, look upon ye,
And to love ye again, O she cries out, and thunders,
She had rather love--there is no hope--

_Dem_. Yes _Leontius_,
There is a hope, which though it draw no love to it,
At least will draw her to lament my fortune,
And that hope shall relieve me.

_Leo_. Hark ye Sir, hark ye:
Say I should bring ye--

_Dem_. Do [not] trifle with me?

_Leo_. I will not trifle; both together bring ye,
You know the wrongs ye' done.

_Dem_. I do confess 'em.

_Leo_. And if you should then jump into your fury,
And have another querk in your head.

_Dem_. I'le dye first.

_Leo_. You must say nothing to her; for 'tis certain,
The nature of your crime will admit [no] excuse.

_Dem_. I will not speak, mine eyes shall tell my penance.

_Leo_. You must look wondrous sad too.

_Dem_. I need not look so,
I am truly sadness self.

_Leo_. That look will do it:
Stay here, I'le bring her to you instantly:
But take heed how you bear your self: sit down there,
The more humble you are, the more she'l take compassion.
Women are per'lous thing[s] to deal upon.     [_Exit._

_Dem_. What shall become of me? to curse my fortune,
Were but to curse my Father; that's too impious;
But under whatsoever fate I suffer,
Bless I beseech thee heaven her harmless goodness.

_Enter Leontius, and Celia._

_Leo_. Now arm your self.

_Cel_. You have not brought him?

_Leo_. Yes faith,
And there he is: you see in what poor plight too,
Now you may doe your will, kill him, or save him.

_Cel_. I will goe back.

_Leo_. I will be hang'd then Lady,
Are ye a coward now?

_Cel_. I cannot speak to him.

_Dem_. O me.

_Leo_. There was a sigh to blow a Church down;
So, now their eyes are fixt, the small shot playes,
They will come to th' batterie anon.

_Cel_. He weeps extreamly.

_Leo_. Rail at him now.

_Cel_. I dare not.

_Leo_. I am glad on't.

_Cel_. Nor dare believe his tears.

_Dem_. You may, blest beauty,
For those thick streams that troubled my repentance,
Are crept out long agoe.

_Leo_. You see how he looks.

_Cel_. What have I to doe how he looks? how lookt he then,
When with a poisoned tooth he bit mine honour?
It was your counsel too, to scorn and slight him.

_Leo_. I, if ye saw fit cause; and you confest too,
Except this sin, he was the bravest Gentleman,
The sweetest, noblest: I take nothing from ye,
Nor from your anger; use him as you please:
For to say truth, he has deserved your justice;
But still consider what he has been to you.

_Cel_. Pray do not blind me thus.

_Dem_. O Gentle Mistris,
If there were any way to expiate
A sin so great as mine, by intercession,
By prayers, by daily tears, by dying for ye:
O what a joy would close these eyes that love ye.

_Leo_. They say women have tender hearts, I know not,
I am sure mine melts.

_Cel_. Sir, I forgive ye heartily,
And all your wrong to me I cast behind me,
And wish ye a fit beauty to your vertues:
Mine is too poor, in peace I part thus from you;
I must look back: gods keep your grace: he's here still.     [_Ex._

_Dem_. She has forgiven me.

_Leo_. She has directed ye:
Up, up, and follow like a man: away Sir,
She lookt behind her twice: her heart dwells here Sir,
Ye drew tears from her too: she cannot freeze thus;
The door's set open too, are ye a man?
Are ye alive? do ye understand her meaning?
Have ye bloud and spirit in ye?

_Dem_. I dare not trouble her.

_Leo_. Nay, and you will be nip't i'th' head with nothing,
Walk whining up and down; I dare not, I cannot:
Strike now or never: faint heart, you know what Sir--
Be govern'd by your fear, and quench your fire out.
A Devil on't, stands this door ope for nothing?
So get ye together, and be naught: now to secure all,
Will I go fetch out a more soveraign plaister.     [_Exeunt._



Scena IV.


_Enter Antigonus, Seleucus, Lysimachus, Ptolomy, Lieutenant, Gentlemen,
Lords._

_Ant_. This peace is fairly made.

_Seleu_. Would your Grace wish us
To put in more: take what you please, we yield it;
The honour done us by your son constrains it,
Your noble son.

_Ant_. It is sufficient, Princes;
And now we are one again, one mind, one body,
And one sword shall strike for us.

_Lys_. Let Prince _Demetrius_
But lead us on: for we are his vowed servants;
Against the strength of all the world we'l buckle.

_Ptol_. And even from all that strength we'l catch at victory.

_Sel_. O had I now recover'd but the fortune
I lost in _Antioch_, when mine Unckle perish'd;
But that were but to surfeit me with blessings.

_Lys_. You lost a sweet child there.

_Sel_. Name it no more Sir;
This is no time to entertain such sorrows;
Will your Majesty do us the honour, we may see the Prince,
And wait upon him?

_Enter Leon._

_Ant_. I wonder he stayes from us:
How now _Leontius_, where's my son?

_Sel_. Brave Captain.

_Lys_. Old valiant Sir.

_Leo_. Your Graces are welcom:
Your son and't please you Sir, is new cashiered yonder,
Cast from his Mistris favour: and such a coil there is;
Such fending, and such proving; she stands off,
And will by no means yield to composition:
He offers any price; his body to her.

_Sel_. She is a hard Lady, denies that caution.

_Leo_. And now they whine, and now they rave: faith Princes,
'Twere a good point of charity to piece 'em;
For less than such a power will doe just nothing:
And if you mean to see him, there it must be,
For there will he grow, till he be transplanted.

_Sel_. Beseech your grace, let's wait upon you thither,
That I may see that beauty dares deny him,
That scornfull beauty.

_Ptol_. I should think it worse now;
Ill brought up beauty.

_Ant_. She has too much reason for't;
Which with too great a grief, I shame to think of,
But we'll go see this game.

_Lys_. Rather this wonder.

_Ant_. Be you our guide _Leontius_, here's a new peace.     [_Ex._




Scena V.


_Enter Demetrius and Celia._

_Cel_. Thus far you shall perswade me, still to honour ye,
Still to live with ye, Sir, or near about ye;
For not to lye, you have my first and last love:
But since you have conceiv'd an evil against me,
An evil that so much concerns your honour,
That honour aim'd by all at for a pattern:
And though there be a false thought, and confest too,
And much repentance faln in showrs to purge it;
Yet, whilest that great respect I ever bore ye,
Dwells in my bloud, and in my heart that duty;
Had it but been a dream, I must not touch ye.

_Dem_. O you will make some other happy?

_Cel_. Never,
Upon this hand I'le seal that faith.

_Dem_. We may kiss,
Put not those out o'th' peace too.

_Cel_. Those I'le give ye,
So there you will be pleas'd to pitch your _ne ultra_,
I will be merry with ye; sing, discourse with ye,
Be your poor Mistris still: in truth I love ye.

_Enter Leontius, Antigonus, Seleucus, Lysimachus, Ptolomie, Lieutenant,
and Gentleman._

_Dem_. Stay, who are these?

_Lys_. A very handsom Lady.

_Leo_. As e're you saw.

_Sel_. Pity her heart's so cruel.

_Lys_. How does your Grace? he stands still, will not hear us.

_Ptol_. We come to serve ye, Sir, in all our fortunes.

_Lys_. He bows a little now; he's strangely alter'd.

_Sel_. Ha? pray ye a word _Leontius_, pray ye a word with ye,
_Lysimachus_? you bo'th knew mine _Enanthe_,
I lost in _Antioch_, when the Town was taken,
Mine Uncle slain, _Antigonus_ had the sack on't?

_Lys_. Yes, I remember well the Girl.

_Sel_. Methinks now
That face is wondrous like her: I have her picture,
The same, but more years on her; the very same.

_Lys_. A Cherry to a Chery is not liker.

_Sel_. Look on her eyes.

_Leo_. Most certain she is like her:
Many a time have I dandled her in these arms, Sir,
And I hope who will more.

_Ant_. What's that ye look at, Pr[in]ces?

_Sel_. This Picture, and that Lady, Sir.

_Ant_. Ha! they are near:
They only err in time.

_Lys_. Did you mark that blush there?
That came the nearest.

_Sel_. I must speak to her.

_Leo_. You'll quickly be resolved.

_Sel_. Your name sweet Lady?

_Cel_. _Enanthe_, Sir: and this to beg your blessing.

_Sel_. Do you know me?

_Cel_. If you be the King _Seleucus_,
I know you are my Father.

_Sel_. Peace a little,
Where did I lose ye?

_Cel_. At the Sack of _Antioch_,
Where my good Unckle di'd, and I was taken,
By a mean Souldier taken: by this Prince,
This noble Prince, redeem'd from him again,
Where ever since I have remain'd his Servant.

_Sel_. My joys are now too full: welcome _Enanthe_,
Mine own, my dearest, and my best _Enanthe_.

_Dem_. And mine too desperate.

_Sel_. You shall not think so,
This is a peace indeed.

_Ant_. I hope it shall be,
And ask it first.

_Cel_. Most Royal Sir, ye have it.

_Dem_. I once more beg it thus.

_Sel_. You must not be deny'd, Sir.

_Cel_. By me, I am sure he must not: sure he shall not;
Kneeling I give it too; kneeling I take it;
And from this hour, no envious spight e're part us.

_All_. The gods give happy joyes; all comforts to ye.

_Dem_. My new _Enanthe_.

_Ant_. Come, beat all the Drums up,
And all the noble instruments of War:
Let 'em fill all the Kingdom with their sound,
And those the brazen Arch of Heaven break through,
While to the Temple we conduct these two.

_Leo_. May they be ever loving, ever young,
And ever worthy of those lines they sprung;
May their fair issues walk with time along.

_Lieu_. And hang a Coward now; and there's my song.       [_Exeunt._

Prologue.

  _Would some man would instruct me what to say
  For this same Prologue, usual to a Play,
  Is tied to such an old form of Petition;
  Men must say nothing now beyond commission:
  The Cloaks we wear, the Leggs we make, the place
  We stand in, must be one; and one the face.
  Nor alter'd nor exceeded; if it be,
  A general hisse hangs on our levitie:
  We have a Play, a new Play to play now,
  And thus low in our Playes behalf we bow;
  We bow to beg your suffrage, and kind ear;
  If it were naught, or that it might appear,
  A thing buoy'd up by prayer, Gentlemen,
  Believe my faith, you should not see me then.
  Let them speak then have power to stop a storm:
  I never lov'd to feel a House so warm:
  But for the Play if you dare credit me,
  I think it well: All new things you shall see,
  And these disposed to all the mirth that may;
  And short enough we hope: and such a Play
    You were wont to like: sit nobly then, and see:
    If it miscarry, pray look not for me._

       *       *       *       *       *




Epilogue,
Spoke by the Lieutenant.

  _I am not cur'd yet throughly; for believe
  I feel another passion that may grieve,
  All over me I feel it too: and now
  It takes me cold, cold, cold, I know not how:
  As you are good men help me, a Carowse
  May make me love you all, all here i'th' house,
  And all that come to see me doatingly;
  Now lend your hands; and for your courtesie,
    The next imployment I am sent upon,
    I'le swear you are Physicians, the War's none._

Beggars Bush,

A Comedy



Persons Represented in the Play.


Wolfort, _an usurper of the Earldom of_ Flanders.

Gerrard, _falsely called_ Clause, _King of the Beggars, Father in Law to_
Florez.

Hubert, _an honest Lord, a friend to_ Gerrard.

Florez, _falsely called_ Goswin, _a rich Merchant of_ Bruges.

Hempskirke, _a Captain under_ Wolford.

Herman _a Courtier_,} _inhabitants of_
_A_ Merchant,       } Flanders.

Vandunke, _a drunken Merchant friend to_ Gerrard, _falsely called Father
to_ Bertha.

Vanlock, _and_ 4 Merchants, _of_ Bruges.


Higgen,  }
Prigg,   }_Three Knavish Beggars_.
Snapp,   }

Ferret,  }_Two Gentlemen disguised under those
Ginkes,  } names of_ Gerrard's _party_.

Clown.
Boores.
Servants.
Guard.
_A_ Sailor.


_Women_.


Jaculin, _Daughter to_ Gerrard, _beloved of_ Hubert.

Bertha _called_ Gertrude, _Daughter to the Duke of_ Brabant, _Mistress to_
Florez.

Margaret, _Wife to_ Vandunke.

Mrs Frances, _a frow Daughter to_ Vanlock.




_The Scene_ Flanders.

Actus Primus. Scena Prima.


_Enter a_ Merchant _and_ Herman.

_Mer._  Is he then taken?

_Her._ And brought back even now, Sir.

_Mer_. He was not in disgrace?

_Her_. No man more lov'd,
Nor more deserv'd it, being the only man
That durst be honest in this Court.

_Mer_. Indeed
We have heard abroad, Sir, that the State hath suffered
A great change, since the Countesses death.

_Her_. It hath, Sir.

_Mer_. My five years absence hath kept me a stranger
So much to all the occurents of my Country,
As you shall bind me for some short relation
To make me understand the present times.

_Her_. I must begin then with a War was made
And seven years with all cruelty continued
Upon our _Flanders_ by the Duke of _Brabant_,
The cause grew thus: during our Earls minority,
_Wolfort_, (who now usurps) was employed thither
To treat about a match between our Earl
And the Daughter and Heir of _Brabant_: during which treaty
The _Brabander_ pretends, this Daughter was
Stoln from his Court, by practice of our State,
Though we are all confirm'd, 'twas a sought quarrel
To lay an unjust gripe upon this Earldom,
It being here believ'd the Duke of _Brabant_
Had no such loss. This War upon't proclaimed,
Our Earl, being then a Child, although his Father
Good _Gerrard_ liv'd, yet in respect he was
Chosen by the Countesses favour, for her Husband,
And but a Gentleman, and _Florez_ holding
His right unto this Country from his Mother,
The State thought fit in this defensive War,
_Wolfort_ being then the only man of mark,
To make him General.

_Mer_. Which place we have heard
He did discharge with ho[n]our.

_Her_. I, so long,
And with so blest successes, that the _Brabander_
Was forc't (his treasures wasted, and the choice
Of his best men of Armes tyr'd, or cut off)
To leave the field, and sound a base retreat
Back to his Country: but so broken both
In mind and means, er'e to make head again,
That hitherto he sits down by his loss,
Not daring, or for honour, or revenge
Again to tempt his fortune. But this Victory
More broke our State, and made a deeper hurt
In _Flanders_, than the greatest overthrow
She ever receiv'd: For _Wolfort_, now beholding
Himself, and actions, in the flattering glass
Of self-deservings, and that cherish't by
The strong assurance of his power, for then
All Captains of the Army were his creatures,
The common Souldier too at his devotion,
Made so by full indulgence to their rapines
And secret bounties, this strength too well known
And what it could effect, soon put in practice,
As further'd by the Child-hood of the Earl:
And their improvidence, that might have pierc't
The heart of his designs, gave him occasion
To seize the whole, and in that plight you find it.

_Mer_. Sir, I receive the knowledge of thus much,
As a choice favour from you.

_Her_. Only I must add,
_Bruges_ holds out.

_Mer_. Whither, Sir, I am going,
For there last night I had a ship put in,
And my Horse waits me.            [_Exit_.

_Her_. I wish you a good journey.

_Enter_ Wolfort, Hubert.

_Wol_. What? _Hubert_ stealing from me? who disarm'd him?
It was more than I commanded; take your sword,
I am best guarded with it in your hand,
I have seen you use it nobly.

_Hub_. And will turn it
On my own bosom, ere it shall be drawn
Unworthily or rudely.

_Wol_. Would you leave me
Without a farewel, _Hubert_? flie a friend
Unwearied in his study to advance you?
What have I e're possess'd which was not yours?
Or either did not court you to command it?
Who ever yet arriv'd to any grace,
Reward or trust from me, but his approaches
Were by your fair reports of him prefer'd?
And what is more I made my self your Servant,
In making you the Master of those secrets
Which not the rack of Conscience could draw from me,
Nor I, when I askt mercy, trust my prayers with;
Yet after these assurances of love,
These tyes and bonds of friendship, to forsake me?
Forsake me as an enemy? come you must
Give me a reason.

_Hub_. Sir, and so I will,
If I may do't in private: and you hear it.

_Wol_. All leave the room: you have your will, sit down
And use the liberty of our first friendship.

_Hub_. Friendship? when you prov'd Traitor first, that vanish'd,
Nor do I owe you any thought, but hate,
I know my flight hath forfeited my head;
And so I may make you first understand
What a strange monster you have made your self,
I welcome it.

_Wol_. To me this is strange language.

_Hub_. To you? why what are you?

_Wol_. Your Prince and Master,
The Earl of _Flanders_.

Hub. By a proper title!
Rais'd to it by cunning, circumvention, force,
Blood, and proscriptions.

_Wol_. And in all this wisdom,
Had I not reason? when by _Gerrards_ plots
I should have first been call'd to a strict accompt
How, and which way I had consum'd that mass
Of money, as they term it, in the War,
Who underhand had by his Ministers
Detracted my great action, made my faith
And loyalty suspected, in which failing
He sought my life by practice.

_Hub_. With what fore-head
Do you speak this to me? who (as I know't)
Must, and will say 'tis false.

_Wol_. My Guard there.

_Hub_. Sir, you bad me sit, and promis'd you would hear,
Which I now say you shall; not a sound more,
For I that am contemner of mine own,
Am Master of your life; then here's a Sword
Between you, and all aids, Sir, though you blind
The credulous beast, the multitude, you pass not
These gross untruths on me.

_Wol_. How? gross untruths?

_Hub_. I, and it is favourable language,
They had been in a mean man lyes, and foul ones.

_Wol_. You take strange Licence.

_Hub_. Yes, were not those rumours
Of being called unto your answer, spread
By your own followers? and weak _Gerrard_ wrought
(But by your cunning practice) to believe
That you were dangerous; yet not to be
Punish'd by any formal course of Law,
But first to be made sure, and have your crimes
Laid open after, which your quaint train taking
You fled unto the Camp, and [there] crav'd humbly
Protection for your innocent life, and that,
Since you had scap'd the fury of the War,
You might not fall by treason: and for proof,
You did not for your own ends make this danger;
Some that had been before by you suborn'd,
Came forth and took their Oaths they had been hir'd
By _Gerrard_ to your Murther. This once heard,
And easily believ'd, th'inraged Souldier
Seeing no further than the outward-man,
Snatch'd hastily his Arms, ran to the Court,
Kill'd all that made resistance, cut in pieces
Such as were Servants, or thought friends to _Gerrard_,
Vowing the like to him.

_Wol_. Will you yet end?

_Hub_. Which he foreseeing, with his Son, the Earl,
Forsook the City; and by secret wayes
As you give out, and we would gladly have it,
Escap'd their fury: though 'tis more than fear'd
They fell amongst the rest; Nor stand you there
To let us only mourn the impious means
By which you got it, but your cruelties since
So far transcend your former bloody ills,
As if compar'd, they only would appear
Essays of mischief; do not stop your ears,
More are behind yet.

_Wol_. O repeat them not,
'Tis Hell to hear them nam'd.

_Hub_. You should have thought,
That Hell would be your punishment when you did them,
A Prince in nothing but your princely lusts,
And boundless rapines.

_Wol_. No more I beseech you.

_Hub_. Who was the Lord of house or land, that stood
Within the prospect of your covetous eye?

_Wol_. You are in this to me a greater Tyrant,
Than e're I was to any.

_Hub_. I end thus
The general grief: now to my private wrong;
The loss of _Gerrards_ Daughter _Jaqueline_:
The hop'd for partner of my lawful Bed,
Your cruelty hath frighted from mine arms;
And her I now was wandring to recover.
Think you that I had reason now to leave you,
When you are grown so justly odious,
That ev'n my stay here with your grace and favour,
Makes my life irksome? here, surely take it,
And do me but this fruit of all your friendship,
That I may dye by you, and not your Hang-man.

_Wol_. Oh _Hubert_, these your words and reasons have
As well drawn drops of blood from my griev'd heart,
As these tears from mine eyes;
Despise them not.
By all that's sacred, I am serious, _Hubert_,
You now have made me sensible, what furies,
Whips, Hangmen, and Tormentors a bad man
Do's ever bear about him: let the good
That you this day have done, be ever number'd
The first of your best actions;
Can you think,
Where _Goswin_ is or _Gerrard_, or your love,
Or any else, or all that are proscrib'd?
I will resign, what I usurp, or have
Unjustly forc'd; the dayes I have to live
Are too too few to make them satisfaction
With any penitence: yet I vow to practise
All of a man.

_Hub_. O that your heart and tongue
Did not now differ!

_Wol_. By my griefs they do not.
Take the good pains to search them out: 'tis worth it,
You have made clean a Leper: trust me you have,
And made me once more fit for the society,
I hope of good men.

_Hub_. Sir, do not abuse
My aptness to believe.

_Wol_. Suspect not you
A faith that's built upon so true a sorrow,
Make your own safetys: ask them all the ties
Humanity can give, _Hemskirk_ too shall
Along with you to this so wish'd discovery,
And in my name profess all that you promise;
And I will give you this help to't: I have
Of late receiv'd certain intelligence,
That some of them are in or about _Bruges_
To be found out: which I did then interpret,
The cause of that Towns standing out against me;
But now am glad, it may direct your purpose
Of giving them their safety, and me peace.

_Hub_. Be constant to your goodness, and you have it.     [_Exeunt_.




Scena II.


_Enter 3_. Merchants.

_1 Mer_. 'Tis much that you deliver of this _Goswin_.

_2 Mer_. But short of what I could, yet have the Country
Confirm'd it true, and by a general oath,
And not a man hazard his credit in it:
He bears himself with such a confidence
As if he were the Master of the Sea,
And not a wind upon the Sailers compass,
But from one part or other was his factor,
To bring him in the best commodities,
Merchant e're ventur'd for.

1. 'Tis strange.

2.  And yet
This do's in him deserve the least of wonder,
Compared with other his peculiar fashions,
Which all admire: he's young, and rich, at least
Thus far reputed so, that since he liv'd
In _Bruges_, there was never brought to harbour
So rich a Bottom, but his bill would pass
Unquestion'd for her lading.

3 _Mer._ Yet he still
Continues a good man.

2 _Mer._ So good, that but
To doubt him, would be held an injury
Or rather malice, with the best that traffique;
But this is nothing, a great stock, and fortune,
Crowning his judgement in his undertakings
May keep him upright that way: But that wealth
Should want the power to make him dote on it,
Or youth teach him to wrong it, best commends
His constant temper; for his outward habit
'Tis suitable to his present course of life:
His table furnish'd well, but not with dainties
That please the appetite only for their rareness,
Or their dear price: nor given to wine or women,
Beyond his health, or warrant of a man,
I mean a good one: and so loves his state
He will not hazard it at play; nor lend
Upon the assurance of a well-pen'd Letter,
Although a challenge second the denial
From such as make th' opinion of their valour
Their means of feeding.

1 _Mer._ These are wayes to thrive,
And the means not curs'd.

2 _Mer._ What follows, this
Makes many venturers with him, in their wishes,
For his prosperity: for when desert
Or reason leads him to be liberal,
His noble mind and ready hand contend
Which can add most to his free courtesies,
Or in their worth, or speed to make them so.
Is there a Virgin of good fame wants dower?
He is a Father to her; or a Souldier
That in his Countreys service, from the war
Hath brought home only scars, and want? his house
Receives him, and relieves him, with that care
As if what he possess'd had been laid up
For such good uses, and he steward of it.
But I should lose my self to speak him further
And stale in my relation, the much good
You may be witness of, if your remove
From _Bruges_ be not speedy.

1 _Mer._ This report
I do assure you will not hasten it,
Nor would I wish a better man to deal with
For what I am to part with.

3 _Mer._ Never doubt it,
He is your man and ours, only I wish
His too much forwardness to embrace all bargains
Sink him not in the end.

2 _Mer._ Have better hopes,
For my part I am confident; here he comes.

_Enter_ Goswin, _and the fourth_ Merchant.

_Gos._ I take it at your own rates, your wine of _Cyprus_,
But for your _Candy_ sugars, they have met
With such foul weather, and are priz'd so high
I cannot save in them.

4 _Mer._ I am unwilling
To seek another Chapman: make me offer
Of something near price, that may assure me
You can deal for them.

_Gos._ I both can, and will,
But not with too much loss; your bill of lading
Speaks of two hundred chests, valued by you
At thirty thousand gilders, I will have them
At twenty eight; so, in the payment of
Three thousand sterling, you fall only in
Two hundred pound.

4 _Mer_. You know, they are so cheap.--

_Gos_. Why look you; I'le deal fa[ir]ly, there's in prison,
And at your suit, a Pirat, but unable
To make you satisfaction, and past hope
To live a week, if you should prosecute
What you can prove against him: set him free,
And you shall have your mony to a Stiver,
And present payment.

4 _Mer_. This is above wonder,
A Merchant of your rank, that have at Sea
So many Bottoms in the danger of
These water-Thieves, should be a means to save 'em,
It more importing you for your own safety
To be at charge to scour the Sea of them
Than stay the sword of justice, that is ready
To fall on one so conscious of his guilt
That he dares not deny it.

_Gos_. You mistake me,
If you think I would cherish in this Captain
The wrong he did to you, or any man;
I was lately with him, (having first, from others
True testimony been assured a man
Of more desert never put from the shore)
I read his letters of Mart from this State granted
For the recovery of such losses, as
He had receiv'd in _Spain_, 'twas that he aim'd at,
Not at three tuns of wine, bisket, or beef,
Which his necessity made him take from you.
If he had pillag'd you near, or sunk your ship,
Or thrown your men o'r-board, then he deserv'd
The Laws extreamest rigour. But since want
Of what he could not live without, compel'd him
To that he did (which yet our State calls death)
I pity his misfortune; and to work you
To some compassion of them, I come up
To your own price: save him, the goods are mine;
If not, seek else-where, I'le not deal for them.

_4 Mer_. Well Sir, for your love, I will once be led
To change my purpose.

_Gos_. For your profit rather.

_4 Mer_. I'le presently make means for his discharge,
Till when, I leave you.

_2 Mer_. What do you think of this?

_1 Mer_. As of a deed of noble pity: guided
By a strong judgement.

_2 Mer_. Save you Master _Goswin_.

_Goswin_. Good day to all.

_2 Mer_. We bring you the refusal
Of more Commodities.

_Gos_. Are you the owners
Of the ship that last night put into the Harbour?

_1 Mer_. Both of the ship, and lading.

_Gos_. What's the fraught?

_1 Mer_. _Indico, Cochineel_, choise _Chyna_ stuffs.

_3 Mer_. And cloath of Gold brought from _Cambal_.

_Gos_. Rich lading,
For which I were your Chapman, but I am
Already out of cash.

_1 Mer_. I'le give you day
For the moiety of all.

_Gos_. How long?

_3 Mer_. Six months.

_Gos_. 'Tis a fair offer: which (if we agree
About the prices) I, with thanks accept of,
And will make present payment of the rest;
Some two hours hence I'le come aboard.

_1 Mer_. The Gunner shall speak you welcom.

_Gos_. I'le not fail.

_3 Mer_. Good morrow.              [_Ex_. Merch.

_Gos_. Heaven grant my Ships a safe return, before
The day of this great payment: as they are
Expected three months sooner: and my credit
Stands good with all the world.

_Enter_ Gerrard.

_Ger_. Bless my good Master,
The prayers of your poor Beads-man ever shall
Be sent up for you.

_Gos_. God o' mercy _Clause_,
There's something to put thee in mind hereafter
To think of me.

_Ger_. May he that gave it you
Reward you for it, with encrease, good Master.

_Gos_. I thrive the better for thy prayers.

_Ger_. I hope so.
This three years have I fed upon your bounties,
And by the fire of your blest charity warm'd me,
And yet, good Master, pardon me, that must,
Though I have now receiv'd your alms, presume
To make one sute more to you.

_Gos_. What is't _Clause_?

_Ger_. Yet do not think me impudent I beseech you,
Since hitherto your charity hath prevented
My begging your relief, 'tis not for mony
Nor cloaths (good Master) but your good word for me.

_Gos_. That thou shalt have, _Clause_, for I think thee honest.

_Ger_. To morrow then (dear M'r.) take the trouble
Of walking early unto _Beggars Bush_,
And as you see me, among others (Brethren
In my affliction) when you are demanded
Which you like best among us, point out me,
And then pass by, as if you knew me not.

_Gos_. But what will that advantage thee?

_Ger_. O much Sir,
'Twill give me the preheminence of the rest,
Make me a King among 'em, and protect me
From all abuse, such as are stronger, might
Offer my age; Sir, at your better leisure
I will inform you further of the good
It may do to me.

_Gos_. 'Troth thou mak'st me wonder;
Have you a King and common-wealth among you?

_Ger_. We have, and there are States are govern'd worse.

_Gos_. Ambition among Beggars?

_Ger_. Many great ones
Would part with half their states, to have the place,
And credit to beg in the first file, Master:
But shall I be so much bound to your furtherance
In my Petition?

_Gos._ That thou shalt not miss of,
Nor any worldly care make me forget it,
I will be early there.

_Ger._ Heaven bless my Master.       [_Exeunt_.

Actus Secundus. Scena Prima.


_Enter_ Higgen, Ferret, Prig, Clause, Jaculine,
Snap, Ginks, _and other beggars_.

_Hig._ Come Princes of the ragged regiment,
You o' the blood, _Prig_ my most upright Lord,
And these (what name or title, e're they bear)
_Jarkman_, or _Patrico_, _Cranke_, or _Clapperdudgeon_,
_Frater_, or _Abram-man_; I speak to all
That stand in fair Election for the title
Of King of _Beggars_, with the command adjoyning,
_Higgen_, your Orator, in this Inter-regnum,
That whilom was your Dommerer, doth beseech you
All to stand fair, and put your selves in rank,
That the first Comer, may at his first view
Make a free choice, to say up the question.

_Fer. Pr._ 'Tis done Lord _Higgen_.

_Hig._ Thanks to Prince _Prig_, Prince _Ferret_.

_Fer._ Well, pray my Masters all, _Ferret_ be chosen,
Y'are like to have a mercifull mild Prince of me.

_Prig._ A very tyrant, I, an arrant tyrant,
If e're I come to reign; therefore look to't,
Except you do provide me hum enough
And Lour to bouze with: I must have my Capons
And Turkeys brought me in, with my green Geese,
And Ducklings i'th' season: fine fat chickens,
Or if you chance where an eye of tame Phesants
Or Partridges are kept, see they be mine,
Or straight I seize on all your priviledge,
Places, revenues, offices, as forfeit,
Call in your crutches, wooden legs, false bellyes,
Forc'd eyes and teeth, with your dead arms; not leave you
A durty clout to beg with o' your heads,
Or an old rag with Butter, Frankincense,
Brimston and Rozen, birdlime, blood, and cream,
To make you an old sore; not so much soap
As you may fome with i'th' Falling-sickness;
The very bag you bear, and the brown dish
Shall be escheated. All your daintiest Dells too
I will deflower, and take your dearest Doxyes
From your warm sides; and then some one cold night
I'le watch you what old barn you go to roost in,
And there I'le smother you all i'th' musty hay.

_Hig._ This is tyrant-like indeed: But what would _Ginks_
Or _Clause_ be here, if either of them should raign?

_Clau._ Best ask an Ass, if he were made a Camel,
What he would be; or a dog, and he were a Lyon.

_Ginks._ I care not what you are, Sirs, I shall be
A Beggar still I am sure, I find my self there.

_Enter_ Goswin.

_Snap._ O here a Judge comes.

_Hig._ Cry, a Judge, a Judge.

_Gos._ What ail you Sirs? what means this outcry?

_Hig._ Master,
A sort of poor souls met: Gods fools, good Master,
Have had some little variance amongst our selves
Who should be honestest of us, and which lives
Uprightest in his calling: Now, 'cause we thought
We ne're should 'gree on't our selves, because
Indeed 'tis hard to say: we all dissolv'd, to put it
To him that should come next, and that's your Master-ship,
Who, I hope, will 'termine it as your mind serves you,
Right, and no otherwise we ask it: which?
Which does your worship think is he? sweet Master
Look over us all, and tell us; we are seven of us,
Like to the seven wise Masters, or the Planets.

_Gos._ I should judge this the man with the grave beard,
And if he be not--

_Clau._ Bless you, good Master, bless you.

_Gos._ I would he were: there's something too amongst you
To keep you all honest.            [_Exit._

_Snap._ King of Heaven go with you.

_Omn._ Now good reward him,
May he never want it, to comfort still the poor, in a good hour.

_Fer._ What is't? see: _Snap_ has got it.

_Snap._ A good crown, marry.

_Prig._ A crown of gold.

_Fer._ For our new King: good luck.

_Ginks._ To the common treasury with it; if't be gold,
Thither it must.

_Prig._ Spoke like a Patriot, _Ferret_--
King _Clause_, I bid God save thee first, first, _Clause_,
After this golden token of a crown;
Where's oratour _Higgen_ with his gratuling speech now
In all our names?

_Fer._ Here he is pumping for it.

_Gin._ H'has cough'd the second time, 'tis but once more
And then it comes.

_Fer._ So, out with all: expect now--

_Hig._ That thou art chosen, venerable _Clause_,
Our King and Soveraign; Monarch o'th'Maunders,
Thus we throw up our Nab-cheats, first for joy,
And then our filches; last, we clap our fambles,
Three subject signs, we do it without envy:
For who is he here did not wish thee chosen,
Now thou art chosen? ask 'em: all will say so,
Nay swear't: 'tis for the King, but let that pass.
When last in conference at the bouzing ken
This other day we sat about our dead Prince
Of famous memory: (rest go with his rags:)
And that I saw thee at the tables end,
Rise mov'd, and gravely leaning on one Crutch,
Lift the other like a Scepter at my head,
I then presag'd thou shortly wouldst be King,
And now thou art so: but what need presage
To us, that might have read it in thy beard
As well, as he that chose thee? by that beard
Thou wert found out, and mark'd for Soveraignty.
O happy beard! but happier Prince, whose beard
Was so remark'd, as marked out our Prince,
Not bating us a hair. Long may it grow,
And thick, and fair, that who lives under it,
May live as safe, as under _Beggars Bush_,
Of which this is the thing, that but the type.

_Om._ Excellent, excellent orator, forward good _Higgen_,
Give him leave to spit: the fine, well-spoken _Higgen_.

_Hig._ This is the beard, the bush, or bushy-beard,
Under whose gold and silver raign 'twas said
So many ages since, we all should smile
On impositions, taxes, grievances,
Knots in a State, and whips unto a Subject,
Lye lurking in this beard, but all kemb'd out:
If now, the Beard be such, what is the Prince
That owes the Beard? a Father; no, a Grand-father;
Nay the great Grand-father of you his people.
He will not force away your hens, your bacon,
When you have ventur'd hard for't, nor take from you
The fattest of your puddings: under him
Each man shall eat his own stolen eggs, and butter,
In his own shade, or sun-shine, and enjoy
His own dear Dell, Doxy, or Mort, at night
In his own straw, with his own shirt, or sheet,
That he hath filch'd that day, I, and possess
What he can purchase, back, or belly-cheats
To his own prop: he will have no purveyers
For Pigs, and poultry.

_Clau._ That we must have, my learned oratour,
It is our will, and every man to keep
In his own path and circuit.

_Hig._ Do you hear?
You must hereafter maund on your own pads he saies.

_Clau._ And what they get there, is their own, besides
To give good words.

_Hig._ Do you mark? to cut been whids,
That is the second Law.

_Clau._ And keep a-foot
The humble, and the common phrase of begging,
Lest men discover us.

_Hig._ Yes; and cry sometimes,
To move compassion: Sir, there is a table,
That doth command all these things, and enjoyns 'em,
Be perfect in their crutches, their feign'd plaisters,
And their torn pass-ports, with the ways to stammer,
And to be dumb, and deaf, and blind, and lame,
There, all the halting paces are set down,
I'th' learned language.

_Clau._ Thither I refer them,
Those, you at leisure shall interpret to them.
We love no heaps of laws, where few will serve.

_Om._ O gracious Prince, 'save, 'save the good King _Clause_.

_Hig._ A Song to crown him.

_Fer._ Set a Centinel out first.

_Snap._ The word?

_Hig._ A Cove comes, and fumbumbis to it.--     _Strike._

    _The SONG.

Cast our Caps and cares away: this is Beggars Holy-day,
At the Crowning of our King, thus we ever dance and sing.
In the world look out and see: where's so happy a Prince as he?
Where the Nation live so free, and so merry as do we?
Be it peace, or be it war, here at liberty we are,
And enjoy our ease and rest; To the field we are not prest;
Nor are call'd into the Town, to be troubled with the Gown.
Hang all Officers we cry, and the Magistrate too, by;
When the Subsidie's encreast, we are not a penny Sest.
Nor will any go to Law, with the Beggar for a straw.
All which happiness he brags, he doth owe unto his rags._

_Enter_ Snap, Hubert, _and_ Hemskirke.

_Snap._ A Cove comes: Fumbumbis.

_Prig._ To your postures; arm.

_Hub._ Yonder's the Town: I see it.

_Hemsk._ There's our danger
Indeed afore us, if our shadows save not.

_Hig._ Bless your good Worships.

_Fer._ One small piece of mony.

_Prig._ Amongst us all poor wretches.

_Clau._ Blind, and lame.

_Ginks._ For his sake that gives all.

_Hig._ Pitifull Worships.

_Snap._ One little doyt.

_Enter_ Jaculin.

_Jac._ King, by your leave, where are you?

_Fer._ To buy a little bread.

_Hig._ To feed so many
Mouths, as will ever pray for you.

_Prig._ Here be seven of us.

_Hig._ Seven, good Master, O remember seven,
Seven blessings.

_Fer._ Remember, gentle Worship.

_Hig._ 'Gainst seven deadly sins.

_Prig._ And seven sleepers.

_Hig._ If they be hard of heart, and will give nothing--
Alas, we had not a charity this three dayes.

_Hub._ There's amongst you all.

_Fer._ Heaven reward you.

_Prig._ Lord reward you.

_Hig._ The Prince of pity bless thee.

_Hub._ Do I see? or is't my fancy that would have it so?
Ha? 'tis her face: come hither maid.

_Jac._ What ha' you,
Bells for my squirrel? I ha' giv'n bun meat,
You do not love me, do you? catch me a butterfly,
And I'le love you again; when? can you tell?
Peace, we go a birding: I shall have a fine thing.  [_Exit._

_Hub._ Her voyce too sayes the same; but for my head
I would not that her manners were so chang'd.
Hear me thou honest fellow; what's this maiden,
That lives amongst you here?

_Gin._ Ao, ao, ao, ao.

_Hub._ How? nothing but signs?

_Gin._ Ao, ao, ao, ao.

_Hub._ This is strange,
I would fain have it her, but not her thus.

_Hig._ He is de-de-de-de-de-de-deaf, and du-du-dude-dumb Sir.

_Hub._ Slid they did all speak plain ev'n now me thought.
Do'st thou know this same maid?

_Snap._ Why, why, why, why, which, gu, gu, gu, gu, Gods fool
She was bo-bo-bo-bo-born at the barn yonder,
By-be-be-be-be-Beggars Bush-bo-bo-Bush
Her name is, My-my-my-my-my-match: so was her Mo-mo-mo-Mothers too-too.

_Hub._ I understand no word he says; how long
Has she been here?

_Snap._ Lo-lo-long enough to be ni-ni-nigled, and she ha' go-go-go-good
luck.

_Hub._ I must be better inform'd, than by this way.
Here was another face too, that I mark'd
Of the old mans: but they are vanish'd all
Most suddenly: I will come here again,
O, that I were so happy, as to find it,
What I yet hope: it is put on.

_Hem._ What mean you Sir,
To stay there with that stammerer?

_Hub._ Farewell friend,--
It will be worth return, to search: Come,
Protect us our disguise now, pre'thee _Hemskirk_
If we be taken, how do'st thou imagine
This town will use us, that hath stood so long
Out against _Wolfort_?

_Hem._ Ev'n to hang us forth
Upon their walls a sunning, to make Crows meat,
If I were not assur'd o' the _Burgomaster_,
And had a pretty excuse to see a niece there,
I should scarce venture.

_Hub._  Come 'tis now too late
To look back at the ports: good luck, and enter. [_Exeunt._




Scena II.


    _Enter_ Goswin.

_Gos._ Still blow'st thou there? and from all other parts,
Do all my agents sleep, that nothing comes?
There's a conspiracy of windes, and servants,
If not of Elements, to ha' me break;
What should I think unless the Seas, and Sands
Had swallow'd up my ships? or fire had spoil'd
My ware-houses? or death devour'd my Factors?
I must ha' had some returns.

_Enter_ Merchants.

_1 Mer._ 'Save you Sir.

_Gos._ 'Save you.

_1 Mer._ No news yet o' your Ships?

_Gos._ Not any yet Sir.

_1 Mer._ 'Tis strange.            [_Exit._

_Gos._ 'Tis true Sir: what a voyce was here now?
This was one passing bell, a thousand ravens
Sung in that man now, to presage my ruins.

_2 Mer._ _Goswin_, good day, these winds are very constant.

_Gos._ They are so Sir; to hurt--

_2 Mer._  Ha' you had no letters
Lately from _England_, nor from _Denmark_?

_Gos._ Neither.

_2 Mer._ This wind brings them; nor no news over land,
Through _Spain_, from the _Straights_?

_Gos._ Not any.

_2 Mer._ I am sorry Sir.           [_Exit._

_Gos._ They talk me down: and as 'tis said of Vulturs
They scent a field fought, and do smell the carkasses
By many hundred miles: So do these, my wracks
At greater distances. Why, thy will Heaven
Come on, and be: yet if thou please, preserve me;
But in my own adventure, here at home,
Of my chast love, to keep me worthy of her,
It shall be put in scale 'gainst all ill fortunes:
I am not broken yet: nor should I fall,
Me thinks with less than that, that ruins all.    [_Exit._




Scena III.


_Enter_ Van-dunck, Hubert, Hemskirk, _and_ Margaret, Boors.

_Van._ Captain, you are welcom; so is this your friend
Most safely welcom, though our Town stand out
Against your Master, you shall find good quarter:
The troth is, we not love him: _Margaret_ some wine,
Let's talk a little treason, if we can
Talk treason, 'gainst the traitors; by your leave, Gentlemen,
We, here in _Bruges_, think he do's usurp,
And therefore I am bold with him.

_Hub._  Sir, your boldness
Happily becomes your mouth, but not our ears,
While we are his servants; And as we come here,
Not to ask questions, walk forth on your walls,
Visit your courts of guard, view your munition,
Ask of your corn-provisions, nor enquire
Into the least, as spies upon your strengths,
So let's entreat, we may receive from you
Nothing in passage or discourse, but what
We may with gladness, and our honesties here,
And that shall seal our welcom.

_Van._  Good: let's drink then,
Fill out, I keep mine old pearl still Captain.

_Marg._  I hang fast man.

_Hen._  Old Jewels commend their keeper, Sir.

_Van._  Here's to you with a heart, my Captains friend,
With a good heart, and if this make us speak
Bold words, anon, 'tis all under the Rose
Forgotten: drown all memory, when we drink.

_Hub._  'Tis freely spoken noble _Burgomaster_,
I'le do you right.

_Hem._  Nay Sir mine heer _Van-dunck_
Is a true Statesman.

_Van._  Fill my Captains cup there, O that your Master _Wolfort_
Had been an honest man.

_Hub._  Sir?

_Van._  Under the Rose.

_Hem._  Here's to you _Marget_.

_Marg._ Welcome, welcome Captain.

_Van._ Well said my pearl still.

_Hem._ And how does my Niece?
Almost a Woman, I think? This friend of mine,
I drew along w[i]th me, through so much hazard,
Only to see her: she was my errand.

_Van._  I, a kind Uncle you are (fill him his glass)
That in seven years, could not find leisure--

_Hem._  No,
It's not so much.

_Van_. I'le bate you ne'r an hour on't,
It was before the _Brabander_ 'gan his War,
For moon-shine, i'the water there, his Daughter
That never was lost: yet you could not find time
To see a Kinswoman; but she is worth the seeing, Sir,
Now you are come, you ask if she were a Woman?
She is a Woman, Sir, fetch her forth _Marget_.    [_Exit_ Marg.
And a fine Woman, and has Suitors.

_Hem_. How?
What Suitors are they?

_Van_. Bachellors; young Burgers:
And one, a Gallant, the young Prince of Merchants
We call him here in _Bruges_.

_Hem_. How? a Merchant?
I thought, _Vandunke_, you had understood me better,
And my Niece too, so trusted to you by me,
Than t'admit of such in name of Suitors.

_Van_. Such? he is such a such, as were she mine
I'd give him thirty thousand crowns with her.

_Hem_. But the same things, Sir, fit not you and me.     [_Ex_.

_Van_. Why, give's some wine, then; this will fit us all:
Here's to you still, my Captains friend: All out:
And still, would _Wolfort_ were an honest man,
Under the Rose, I speak it: but this Merchant
Is a brave boy: he lives so, i'the Town here,
We know not what to think on him: at some times
We fear he will be Bankrupt; he do's stretch
Tenter his credit so; embraces all,
And to't, the winds have been contrary long.
But then, if he should have all his returns,
We think he would be a King, and are half sure on't.
Your Master is a Traitor, for all this,
Under the Rose: Here's to you; and usurps
The Earldom from a better man.

_Hub_. I marry, Sir,
Where is that man?

_Van_. Nay soft: and I could tell you
'Tis ten to one I would not: here's my hand,
I love not _Wolfort_: sit you still, with that:
Here comes my Captain again, and his fine Niece,
And there's my Merchant; view him well: fill wine here.

_Enter_ Hemskirk, Gertrude, _and_ Goswin.

_Hem_. You must not only know me for your Uncle
Now, but obey me: you, go cast your self
Away, upon a Dunghil here? a Merchant?
A petty fellow? one that makes his Trade
With Oaths and perjuries?

_Gos_. What is that you say, Sir?
If it be me you speak of, as your eye
Seems to direct, I wish you would speak to me, Sir.

_Hem_. Sir, I do say, she is no Merchandize,
Will that suffice you?

_Gos_. Merchandize good Sir?
Though ye be Kinsman to her, take no leave thence
To use me with contempt: I ever thought
Your Niece above all price.

_Hem_. And do so still, Sir,
I assure you, her rates are more than you are worth.

_Gos_. You do not know, what a Gentleman's worth, Sir,
Nor can you value him.

_H[u]b_. Well said Merchant.

_Van_. Nay,
Let him alone, and ply your matter.

_Hem_. A Gentleman?
What o'the Wool-pack? or the Sugar-chest?
Or lists of Velvet? which is't pound, or yard,
You vent your Gentry by?

_Hub_. O _Hemskirk_, fye.

_Van_. Come, do not mind 'em, drink, he is no _Wolfort_,
Captain, I advise you.

_Hem_. Alas, my pretty man,
I think't be angry, by its look: Come hither,
Turn this way, a little: if it were the blood
Of _Charlemaine_, as't may (for ought I know)
Be some good Botchers issue, here in _Bruges_.

_Gos_. How?

_Hem_. Nay: I'me not certain of that; of this I am,
If it once buy, and sell, its Gentry is gone.

_Gos_. Ha, ha.

_Hem._ You are angry, though ye laugh.

_Gos._ No, now 'tis pity
Of your poor argument. Do not you, the Lords
Of Land (if you be any) sell the grass,
The Corn, the Straw, the Milk, the Cheese?

_Van._ And Butter:
Remember Butter; do not leave out Butter.

_Gos._ The Beefs and Muttons that your grounds are stor'd with?
Swine, with the very mast, beside the Woods?

_Hem._ No, for those sordid uses we have Tenants,
Or else our Bailiffs.

_Gos._ Have not we, Sir, Chap-men,
And Factors, then to answer these? your honour
Fetch'd from the Heralds _ABC_, and said over
With your Court faces, once an hour, shall never
Make me mistake my self. Do not your Lawyers
Sell all their practice, as your Priests their prayers?
What is not bought, and sold? The company
That you had last, what had you for't, i'faith?

_Hem._ You now grow sawcy.

_Gos._ Sure I have been bred
Still, with my honest liberty, and must use it.

_Hem._ Upon your equals then.

_Gos._ Sir, he that will
Provoke me first, doth make himself my equal.

_Hem._ Do ye hear? no more.

_Gos._ Yes, Sir, this little, I pray you,
And't shall be aside, then after, as you please.
You appear the Uncle, Sir, to her I love
More than mine eyes; and I have heard your scorns
With so much scoffing, and so much shame,
As each strive which is greater: But, believe me,
I suck'd not in this patience with my milk.
Do not presume, because you see me young,
Or cast despights on my profession
For the civility and tameness of it.
A good man bears a contumely worse
Than he would do an injury. Proceed not
To my offence: wrong is not still successful,
Indeed it is not: I would approach your Kins-woman
With all respect, done to your self and her.

_Hem._ Away Companion: handling her? take that.        [_Strikes him._

_Gos._ Nay, I do love no blows, Sir, there's exchange.

_Hub._  Hold, Sir.  (_He gets_ Hemskirks _sword and cuts him on the head._

_Mar._  O murther.

_Ger._  Help my _Goswin_.

_Mar._ Man.

_Van._ Let 'em alone; my life for one.

_Gos._ Nay come,
If you have will.

_Hub._ None to offend you, I, Sir.

_Gos._ He that had, thank himself: not hand her? yes Sir,
And clasp her, and embrace her; and (would she
Now go with me) bear her through all her Race,
Her Father, Brethren, and her Uncles, arm'd,
And all their Nephews, though they stood a wood
Of Pikes, and wall of Canon: kiss me _Gertrude_,
Quake not, but kiss me.

_Van._ Kiss him, Girl, I bid you;
My Merchant Royal; fear no Uncles: hang 'em,
Hang up all Uncles: Are not we in _Bruges_?
Under the Rose here?

_Gos._ In this circle, Love,
Thou art as safe, as in a Tower of Brass;
Let such as do wrong, fear.

_Van._ I, that's good,
Let _Wolfort_ look to that.

_Gos._ Sir, here she stands,
Your Niece, and my beloved. One of these titles
She must apply to; if unto the last,
Not all the anger can be sent unto her,
In frown, or voyce, or other art, shall force her,
Had _Hercules_ a hand in't: Come, my Joy,
Say thou art mine, aloud Love, and profess it.

_Van._ Doe: and I drink to it.

_Gos._ Prethee say so, Love.

_Ger._ 'Twould take away the honour from my blushes:
Do not you play the tyrant, sweet: they speak it.

_Hem._ I thank you niece.

_Gos._ Sir, thank her for your life,
And fetch your sword within.

_Hem._ You insult too much
With your good fortune, Sir.     [_Exeunt_ Gos. _and_ Ger.

_Hub._ A brave clear Spirit;
_Hemskirk_, you were to blame: a civil habit
Oft covers a good man: and you may meet
In person of a Merchant, with a soul
As resolute, and free, and all wayes worthy,
As else in any file of man-kind: pray you,
What meant you so to slight him?

_Hem._ 'Tis done now,
Ask no more of it; I must suffer.     [_Exit_ Hemskirk.

_Hub._ This
Is still the punishment of rashness, sorrow.
Well; I must to the woods, for nothing here
Will be got out. There, I may chance to learn
Somewhat to help my enquiries further.

_Van._ Ha?
A Looking-glass?

_Hub._ How now, brave _Burgomaster_?

_Van._ I love no _Wolforts_, and my name's _Vandunk_,

_Hub._ _Van drunk_ it's rather: come, go sleep within.

_Van._ Earl _Florez_ is right heir, and this same _Wolfort_
Under the Rose I speak it--

_Hub._ Very hardly.

_Van-d._ Usurps: and a rank Traitor, as ever breath'd,
And all that do uphold him. Let me goe,
No man shall hold me, that upholds him;
Do you uphold him?

_Hub._ No.

_Van._ Then hold me up.          [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ Goswin, _and_ Hemskirk.

_Hem._ Sir, I presume, you have a sword of your own,
That can so handle anothers.

_Gos._ Faith you may Sir.

_Hem._ And ye have made me have so much better thoughts of you
As I am bound to call you forth.

_Gos._ For what Sir?

_Hem._ To the repairing of mine honour, and hurt here.

_Gos._ Express your way.

_Hem._ By fight, and speedily.

_Gos._ You have your will: Require you any more?

_Hem._ That you be secret: and come single.

_Gos._ I will.

_Hem._ As you are the Gentleman you would be thought.

_Gos._ Without the Conjuration: and I'le bring
Only my sword, which I will fit to yours,
I'le take his length within.

_Hem._ Your place now Sir?

_Gos._ By the Sand-hills.

_Hem._ Sir, nearer to the woods,
If you thought so, were fitter.

_Gos._ There, then.

_Hem._ Good.
Your time?

_Gos._ 'Twixt seven and eight.

_Hem._ You'l give me Sir
Cause to report you worthy of my Niece,
If you come, like your promise.

_Gos._ If I do not,
Let no man think to call me unworthy first,
I'le do't my self, and justly wish to want her.--     [_Exeunt._

Actus Tertius. Scena Prima.


_Enter three or four_ Boors.

_1 B._ Come, _English_ beer Hostess, _English_ beer by th' belly.

_2 B._ Stark beer boy, stout and strong beer: so, sit down Lads,
And drink me upsey-Dutch:
Frolick, and fear not.

_Enter_ Higgen _like a Sow-gelder, singing._

Hig. _Have ye any work for the Sow-gelder, hoa,
My horn goes too high too low, too high too low.
Have ye any Piggs, Calves, or Colts,
Have ye any Lambs in your holts
To cut for the Stone,
Here comes a cunning one.
Have ye any braches to spade,
Or e're a fair maid
That would be a Nun,
Come kiss me, 'tis done.
Hark how my merry horn doth blow,
Too high too low, too high too low._

_1 B._ O excellent! two-pence a piece boyes, two-pence a piece.
Give the boys some drink there. Piper, wet your whistle,
Canst tell me a way now, how to cut off my wifes Concupiscence?

_Hig._ I'le sing ye a Song for't.

      The Song.

_Take her, and hug her,
And turn her and tug her,
And turn her again boy, again,
Then if she mumble,
Or if her tail tumble,
Kiss her amain hoy, amain.
Do thy endeavour,
To take off her feaver,
Then her disease no longer will raign.
If nothing will serve her,
Then thus to preserve her,
Swinge her amain boy amain.
Give her cold jelly
To take up her belly,
And once a day swinge her again,
If she stand all these pains,
Then knock out her brains,
Her disease no longer will reign._

_1 Bo._ More excellent, more excellent, sweet Sow-gelder.

_2 Bo._ Three-pence a piece, three-pence a piece.

_Hig._ Will you hear a Song how the Devil was gelded?

_3 Bo._ I, I, let's hear the Devil roar, Sow-gelder.


            SONG.

             1.
_He ran at me first in the shape of a Ram,
And over and over the Sow-Gelder came;
I rise and I halter'd him fast by the horn,
I pluckt out his Stones as you'd pick out a Corn.
Baa, quoth the Devil, and forth he slunk,
And left us a Carcase of Mutton that stunk.

             2.
The next time I rode a good mile and a half,
Where I heard he did live in disguise of a Calf,
I bound and I gelt him, ere he did any evil;
He was here at his best, but a sucking Devil.
Maa, yet he cry'd, and forth he did steal,
And this was sold after, for excellent Veal.

             3.
Some half a year after in the form of a Pig,
I met with the Rogue, and he look'd very big;
I catch'd at his leg, laid him down on a log,
Ere a man could fart twice, I had made him a Hog.
Owgh, quoth the Devil, and forth gave a Jerk,
That a Jew was converted, and eat of the Perk._

_1 Bo._ Groats apiece, Groats apiece, Groats apiece,
There sweet Sow-Gelder.

_Enter_ Prig _and_ Ferret.

_Prig._ Will ye see any feats of activity,
Some Sleight of hand, Legerdemain? hey pass,
Presto, be gone there?

_2 Bo._ Sit down Jugler.

_Prig._ Sirrah, play you your art well; draw near Piper:
Look you, my honest friends, you see my hands;
Plain dealing is no Devil: lend me some Money,
Twelve-pence a piece will serve.

_1. 2. B._ There, there.

_Prig._ I thank you,
Thank ye heartily: when shall I pay ye?

_All B._ Ha, ha, ha, by th' Mass this was a fine trick.

_Prig._ A merry sleight toy: but now I'll show your Worships
A trick indeed.

_Hig._ Mark him well now my Masters.

_Prig._ Here are three balls,
These balls shall be three bullets,
One, two, and three: _ascentibus, malentibus_.

_Presto_, be gone: they are vanish'd: fair play, Gentlemen.
Now these three, like three Bullets, from your three Noses
Will I pluck presently: fear not, no harm Boys,

_Titere, tu patule._

_1 B._ Oh, oh, oh.

_Prig._ _Recubans sub jermlne fagi._

_2 B._ Ye pull too hard; ye pull too hard.

_Prig._ Stand fair then:
_Silvertramtrim-tram._

_3 B._ Hold, hold, hold.

_Prig._ Come aloft, bullets three, with a whim-wham.
Have ye their Moneys?

_Hig._ Yes, yes.

_1 B._ Oh rare Jugler!

_2 B._ Oh admirable Jugler!

_Prig._ One trick more yet;
Hey, come aloft; _sa, sa, flim, flum, taradumbis_?
East, West, North, South, now fly like _Jack_ with a _bumbis_.
Now all your money's gone; pray search your pockets.

_1 B._ Humh.

_2 B._ He.

_3 B._ The Devil a penny's here!

_Prig._ This was a rare trick.

_1 B._ But 'twould be a far rarer to restore it.

_Prig._ I'll do ye that too; look upon me earnestly,
And move not any ways your eyes from this place,
This Button here? pow, whir, whiss, shake your pockets.

_1 B._ By th' Mass 'tis here again, boys.

_Prig._ Rest ye merry;
My first trick has paid me.

_All B._ I, take it, take it,
And take some drink too.

_Prig._ Not a drop now I thank you;
Away, we are discover'd else.     [_Exit._

_Enter_ Gerrard _like a blind_ Aqua vitae man, _and a Boy, singing the
Song._

_Bring out your Cony-skins, fair maids to me,
And hold 'em fair that I may see;
Grey, black, and blue: for your smaller skins,
I'll give ye looking-glasses, pins:
And for your whole Coney, here's ready, ready Money.
Come Gentle_ Jone, _do thou begin
With thy black, black, black Coney-skin.
And_ Mary _then, and_ Jane _will follow,
With their silver hair'd skins, and their yellow.
The white Cony-skin, I will not lay by,
For though it be faint, 'tis fair to the eye;
The grey, it is warm, but yet for my Money,
Give me the bonny, bonny black Cony.
Come away fair Maids, your skins will decay:
Come, and take money, maids, put your ware away.
Cony-skins, Cony-skins, have ye any Cony-skins,
I have fine bracelets, and fine silver pins._

_Ger._ Buy any Brand Wine, buy any Brand Wine?

_Boy._ Have ye any Cony-skins?

_2 [B.]_ My fine Canary-bird, there's a Cake for thy Worship.

_1 B._ Come fill, fill, fill, fill suddenly: let's see Sir,
What's this?

_Ger._ A penny, Sir.

_1 B._ Fill till't be six-pence,
And there's my Pig.

_Boy._ This is a Counter, Sir.

_1 B._ A Counter! stay ye, what are these then?
O execrable Jugler! O dama'd Jugler!
Look in your hose, hoa, this comes of looking forward.

_3 B._ Devil a Dunkirk! what a Rogue's this Jugler!
This hey pass, repass, h'as repast us sweetly.

_2 B._ Do ye call these tricks.

_Enter_ Higgen.

_Hig._ Have ye any Ends of Gold, or Silver?

_2 B._ This Fellow comes to mock us; Gold or Silver? cry Copper.

_1 B._ Yes, my good Friend,
We have e'n an end of all we have.

_Hig._ 'Tis well Sir,
You have the less to care for: Gold and Silver.     [_Exit._

_Enter_ Prigg.

_Pr._ Have ye any old Cloaks to sell, have ye any old Cloaks to sell?
[_Exit._

_1 B._ Cloaks! Look about ye Boys: mine's gone!

_2 B._ A ------ juggle 'em?
------ O they're Prestoes: mine's gone too!

_3 B._ Here's mine yet.

_1 B._ Come, come let's drink then more Brand Wine.

_Boy._ Here Sir.

_1 B._ If e'r I catch your Sow-gelder, by this hand I'll strip him:
Were ever Fools so ferkt? We have two Cloaks yet;
And all our Caps; the Devil take the Flincher.

_All B._ Yaw, yaw, yaw, yaw.

_Enter_ Hemskirk.

_Hem._ Good do'n my honest Fellows,
You are merry here I see.

_3 B._ 'Tis all we have left, Sir.

_Hem._ What hast thou? Aqua vitae?

_Boy._ Yes.

_Hem._ Fill out then;
And give these honest Fellows round.

_All B._ We thank ye.

_Hem._ May I speak a word in private to ye?

_All B._ Yes Sir.

_Hem._ I have a business for you, honest Friends,
If you dare lend your help, shall get you crowns.

_Ger._ Ha!
Lead me a little nearer, Boy.

_1 B._ What is't Sir?
If it be any thing to purchase money,
Which is our want, [command] us.

_Boors._ All, all, all, Sir.

_Hem._ You know the young spruce Merchant in _Bruges_?

_2 B._ Who? Master _Goswin_?

_Hem._ That he owes me money,
And here in town there is no stirring of him.

_Ger._ Say ye so?

_Hem._ This day, upon a sure appointment,
He meets me a mile hence, by the Chase side,
Under the row of Oaks; do you know it?

_All B._ Yes Sir.

_Hem._ Give 'em more drink: there if you dare but venture
When I shall give the word to seize upon him
Here's twenty pound.

_3 B._ Beware the Jugler.

_Hem._ If he resist, down with him, have no mercy.

_1 B._ I warrant you, we'll hamper him.

_Hem._ To discharge you,
I have a Warrant here about me.

_3 B._ Here's our Warrant,
This carries fire i'th' Tail.

_Hem._ Away with me then,
The time draws on,
I must remove so insolent a Suitor,
And if he be so rich, make him pay ransome
Ere he see _Bruges_ Towers again. Thus wise men
Repair the hurts they take by a disgrace,
And piece the Lions skin with the Foxes case.

_Ger._ I am glad I have heard this sport yet.

_Hem._ There's for thy drink, come pay the house within Boys,
And lose no time.

_Ger._ Away with all our haste too.      [_Exeunt._




Scene II.


_Enter_ Goswin.

_Gos._ No wind blow fair yet? no return of moneys?
Letters? nor any thing to hold my hopes up?
Why then 'tis destin'd, that I fall, fall miserably!
My credit I was built on, sinking with me.
Thou boystrous North-wind, blowing my misfortunes,
And frosting all my hopes to cakes of coldness;
Yet stay thy fury; give the gentle South
Yet leave to court those sails that bring me safety,
And you auspicious fires, bright twins in heaven
Daunce on the shrowds; he blows still stubbornly,
And on his boystrous Rack rides my sad ruin;
There is no help, there can be now no comfort,
To morrow with the Sun-set, sets my credit.
Oh misery! thou curse of man, thou plague,
In the midst of all our strength thou strik'st us;
My vertuous Love is lost too: all, what I have been,
No more hereafter to be seen than shadow;
To prison now? well, yet there's this hope left me;
I may sink fairly under this days venture,
And so to morrow's cross'd, and all those curses:
Yet manly I'll invite my Fate, base fortune
Shall never say, she has cut my throat in fear.
This is the place his challenge call'd me to,
And was a happy one at this time for me,
For let me fall before my Foe i'th' field,
And not at Bar, before my Creditors;
H'as kept his word: now Sir, your swords tongue only
Loud as you dare, all other language--

_Enter_ Hemskirke.

_Hem._ Well Sir,
You shall not be long troubled: draw.

_Gos._ 'Tis done Sir,
And now have at ye.

_Hem._ Now.

_Enter_ Boors.

_Gos._ Betray'd to Villains!
Slaves ye shall buy me bravely,
And thou base coward.

_Enter_ Gerrard _and_ Beggars.

_Ger._ Now upon 'em bravely,
Conjure 'em soundly Boys.

_Boors._ Hold, hold.

_Ger._ Lay on still,
Down with that Gentleman rogue, swinge him to sirrup.
Retire Sir, and take Breath: follow, and take him,
Take all, 'tis lawful prize.

_Boors._ We yield.

_Ger._ Down with 'em
Into the Wood, and rifle 'em, tew 'em, swinge 'em,
Knock me their brains into their Breeches.     [_Exeunt._

_Boors._ Hold, hold.

_Gos._ What these men are I know not, nor for what cause
They shou'd thus thrust themselves into my danger,
Can I imagine. But sure Heavens hand was in't!
Nor why this coward Knave should deal so basely
To eat me up with Slaves: but Heaven I thank thee,
I hope thou hast reserv'd me to an end
Fit for thy creature, and worthy of thine honour:
Would all my other dangers here had suffered,
With what a joyful heart should I go home then?
Where now, Heaven knows, like him that waits his sentence,
Or hears his passing Bell; but there's my hope still.

_Enter_ Gerrard.

_Ger._ Blessing upon you Master.

_Gos._ Thank ye; leave me,
For by my troth I have nothing now to give thee.

_Ger._ Indeed I do not ask Sir, only it grieves me
To see ye look so sad; now goodness keep ye
From troubles in your mind.

_Gos._ If I were troubled,
What could thy comfort do? prithee _Clause_, leave me.

_Ger._ Good Master be not angry; for what I say
Is out of true love to ye.

_Gos._ I know thou lov'st me.

_Ger._ Good Mr. blame that love then, if I prove so sawcy
To ask ye why ye are sad.

_Gos._ Most true, I am so,
And such a sadness I have got will sink me.

_Ger._ Heaven shield it, Sir.

_Gos._ Faith, thou must lose thy Master.

_Ger._ I had rather lose my neck, Sir: would I knew--

_Gos._ What would the knowledg do thee good so miserable,
Thou canst not help thy self? when all my ways
Nor all the friends I have--

_Ger._ You do not know Sir,
What I can do: cures sometimes, for mens cares
Flow, where they least expect 'em.

_Gos._ I know thou wouldst do,
But farewell _Clause_, and pray for thy poor Master.

_Ger._ I will not leave ye.

_Gos._ How?

_Ger._ I dare not leave ye, Sir, I must not leave ye,
And till ye beat me dead, I will not leave ye.
By what ye hold most precious, by Heavens goodness,
As your fair youth may prosper, good Sir tell me:
My mind believes yet something's in my power
May ease you of this trouble.

_Gos._ I will tell thee,
For a hundred thousand crowns upon my credit,
Taken up of Merchants to supply my traffiques,
The winds and weather envying of my fortune,
And no return to help me off, yet shewing
To morrow, _Clause_, to morrow, which must come,
In prison thou shalt find me poor and broken.

_Ger._ I cannot blame your grief Sir.

_Gos._ Now, what say'st thou?

_Ger._ I say you should not shrink, for he that gave ye,
Can give you more; his power can bring ye off Sir,
When friends and all forsake ye, yet he sees you.

_Gos._ There's all my hope.

_Ger._ Hope still Sir, are you ty'd
Within the compass of a day, good Master,
To pay this mass of mony?

_Gos._ Ev'n to morrow:
But why do I stand mocking of my misery?
Is't not enough the floods, and friends forget me?

_Ger._ Will no less serve?

_Gos._ What if it would?

_Ger._ Your patience,
I do not ask to mock ye: 'tis a great sum,
A sum for mighty men to start and stick at;
But not for honest: have ye no friends left ye,
None that have felt your bounty? worth this duty?

_Gos._ Duty? thou knowst it not.

_Ger._ It is a duty,
And as a duty, from those men have felt ye,
Should be return'd again: I have gain'd by ye,
A daily alms these seven years you have showr'd on me,
Will half supply your want.

_Gos._ Why do'st thou fool me?
Can'st thou work miracles?

_Ger._ To save my Master,
I can work this.

_Gos._ Thou wilt make me angry with thee.

_Ger._ For doing good?

_Gos._ What power hast thou?

_Ger._ Enquire not:
So I can do it, to preserve my Master;
Nay if it be three parts.

_Gos._ O that I had it,
But good _Clause_, talk no more, I feel thy charity,
As thou hast felt mine: but alas!

_Ger._ Distrust not,
'Tis that that quenches ye: pull up your Spirit,
Your good, your honest, and your noble Spirit;
For if the fortunes of ten thousand people
Can save ye, rest assur'd; you have forgot Sir,
The good ye did, which was the power you gave me;
Ye shall now know the King of Beggars treasure:
And let the winds blow as they list, the Seas roar,
Yet, here to morrow, you shall find your harbour.
Here fail me not, for if I live I'le fit ye.

_Gos._ How fain I would believe thee!

_Ger._ If I ly Master,
Believe no man hereafter.

_Gos._ I will try thee,
But he knows, that knows all.

_Ger._ Know me to morrow,
And if I know not how to cure ye, kill me;
So pass in peace, my best, my worthiest Master.     [_Exeunt._




Scena III.


_Enter_ Hubert, _like a Huntsman._

_Hub._ Thus have I stoln away disguiz'd from _Hemskirk_
To try these people, for my heart yet tells me
Some of these Beggars, are the men I look for:
Appearing like my self, they have no reason
(Though my intent is fair, my main end honest)
But to avoid me narrowly, that face too,
That womans face, how near it is! O may it
But prove the same, and fortune how I'le bless thee!
Thus, sure they cannot know me, or suspect me,
If to my habit I but change my nature;
As I must do; this is the wood they live in,
A place fit for concealment: where, till fortune
Crown me with that I seek, I'le live amongst 'em.  [_Exit._

_Enter_ Higgen, Prigg, Ferret, Ginks, _and
the rest of the_ Boors.

_Hig._ Come bring 'em out, for here we sit in justice:
Give to each one a cudgel, a good cudgel:
And now attend your sentence. That you are rogues,
And mischievous base rascalls, (there's the point now)
I take it, is confess'd.

_Prig._ Deny it if you dare knaves.

_Boors._ We are Rogues Sir.

_Hig._ To amplify the matter then, rogues as ye are,
And lamb'd ye shall be e're we leave ye.

_Boors._ Yes Sir.

_Hig._ And to the open handling of our justice,
Why did ye this upon the proper person
Of our good Master? were you drunk when you did it?

_Boors._ Yes indeed were we.

_Prig._ You shall be beaten sober.

_Hig._ Was it for want you undertook it?

_Boors._ Yes Sir.

_Hig._ You shall be swing'd abundantly.

_Prig._ And yet for all that,
You shall be poor rogues still.

_Hig._ Has not the Gentleman,
Pray mark this point Brother _Prig_, that noble Gentleman
Reliev'd ye often, found ye means to live by,
By imploying some at Sea, some here, some there;
According to your callings?

_Boors._ 'Tis most true Sir.

_Hig._ Is not the man, an honest man?

_Boors._ Yes truly.

_Hig._ A liberal Gentleman? and as ye are true rascals
Tell me but this, have ye not been drunk, and often,
At his charge?

_Boors._ Often, often.

_Hig._ There's the point then,
They have cast themselves, Brother _Prig_.

_Prig._ A shrewd point, Brother.

_Hig._ Brother, proceed you now; the cause is open,
I am some what weary.

_Prig._ Can you do these things?
You most abhominable stinking Rascals,
You turnip-eating Rogues.

_Boors._ We are truly sorry.

_Prig._ Knock at your hard hearts Rogues, and presently
Give us a sign you feel compunction,
Every man up with's cudgel, and on his neighbour
Bestow such alms, 'till we shall say sufficient,
For there your sentence lyes without partiality;
Either of head, or hide Rogues, without sparing,
Or we shall take the pains to beat you dead else:
You shall know your doom.

_Hig._ One, two, and three about it.

_Prig._ That fellow in the blue, has true Compunction,
[_Beat one another._
He beats his fellows bravely, oh, well struck boyes.

_Enter_ Gerrard.

_Hig._ Up with that blue breech, now playes he the Devil.
So get ye home, drink small beer, and be honest;
Call in the Gentleman.

_Ger._ Do, bring him presently,
His cause I'le hear my self.

_Enter_ Hemskirk.

_Hig. Prig._ With all due reverence,
We do resign Sir.

_Ger._ Now huffing Sir, what's your name?

_Hem._ What's that to you Sir?

_Ger._ It shall be ere we part.

_Hem._ My name is _Hemskirk_,
I follow the Earl, which you shall feel.

_Ger._ No threatning,
For we shall cool you Sir; why did'st thou basely
Attempt the murder of the Merchant _Goswin_?

_Hem._ What power hast thou to ask me?

_Ger._ I will know it,
Or fley thee till thy pain discover it.

_Hem._ He did me wrong, base wrong.

_Ger._ That cannot save ye,
Who sent ye hither? and what further villanies
Have you in hand?

_Hem._ Why would'st thou know? what profit,
If I had any private way, could rise
Out of my knowledge, to do thee commodity?
Be sorry for what thou hast done, and make amends fool,
I'le talk no further to thee, nor these Rascals.

_Ger._ Tye him to that tree.

_Hem._ I have told you whom I follow.

_Ger._ The Devil you should do, by your villanies,
Now he that has the best way, wring it from him.

_Hig._ I undertake it: turn him to the Sun boyes;
Give me a fine sharp rush, will ye confess yet?

_Hem._ Ye have rob'd me already, now you'le murder me.

_Hig._ Murder your nose a little: does your head purge Sir?
To it again, 'twill do ye good.

_Hem._ Oh,
I cannot tell you any thing.

_Ger._ Proceed then.

_Hig._ There's maggots in your nose, I'le fetch 'em out Sir.

_Hem._ O my head breaks.

_Hig._ The best thing for the rheum Sir,
That falls into your worships eyes.

_Hem._  Hold, hold.

_Ger._ Speak then.

_Hem._ I know not what.

_Hig._ It lyes in's brain yet,
In lumps it lyes, I'le fetch it out the finest;
What pretty faces the fool makes? heigh!

_Hem._ Hold,
Hold, and I'le tell ye all, look in my doublet;
And there within the lining in a paper,
You shall find all.

_Ger._ Go fetch that paper hither,
And let him loose for this time.

_Enter_ Hubert.

_Hub._ Good ev'n my honest friends.

_Ger._ Good ev'n good fellow.

_Hub._ May a poor huntsman, with a merry heart,
A voice shall make the forest ring about him,
Get leave to live amongst ye? true as steel, boyes?
That knows all chases, and can watch all hours,
And with my quarter staff, though the Devil bid stand,
Deal such an alms, shall make him roar again?
Prick ye the fearfull hare through cross waves, sheep-walks,
And force the crafty Reynard climb the quicksetts;
Rouse ye the lofty Stag, and with my bell-horn,
Ring him a knel, that all the woods shall mourn him,
'Till in his funeral tears, he fall before me?
The _Polcat_, _Marterne_, and the rich skin'd _Lucerne_
I know to chase, the Roe, the wind out-stripping
_Isgrin_ himself, in all his bloody anger
I can beat from the bay, and the wild Sounder
Single, and with my arm'd staff, turn the Boar,
Spight of his foamy tushes, and thus strike him;
'Till he fall down my feast.

_Ger._ A goodly fellow.

_Hub._ What mak'st thee here, ha?     [_aside._

_Ger._ We accept thy fellowship.

_Hub._ _Hemskirk_, thou art not right I fear, I fear thee.     [_aside._

_Enter_ Ferret, _with a Letter._

_Fer._ Here is the paper: and as he said we found it.

_Ger._ Give me it, I shall make a shift yet, old as I am,
To find your knavery: you are sent here, Sirra,
To discover certain Gentlemen, a spy-knave,
And if ye find 'em, if not by perswasion
To bring 'em back, by poyson to despatch 'em.

_Hub._ By poyson, ha?

_Ger._  Here is another, _Hubert_;
What is that _Hubert_ Sir?

_Hem._ You may perceive there.

_Ger._ I may perceive a villany and a rank one,
Was he joyn'd partner of thy knavery?

_Hem._ No.
He had an honest end, would I had had so,
Which makes him scape such cut-throats.

_Ger._ So it seems.
For here thou art commanded, when that _Hubert_
Has done his best and worthiest service, this way
To cut his throat, for here he's set down dangerous.

_Hub._ This is most impious.

_Ger._ I am glad we have found ye,
Is not this true?

_Hem._ Yes; what are you the better?

_Ger._ You shall perceive Sir, ere you get your freedom:
Take him aside, and friend, we take thee to us,
Into our company, thou dar'st be true unto us?

_Hig._ I, and obedient too?

_Hub._  As you had bred me.

_Ger._ Then take our hand: thou art now a servant to us,
Welcom him all.

_Hig._ Stand off, stand off: I'le do it,
We bid ye welcom three wayes; first for your person,
Which is a promising person, next for your quality,
Which is a decent, and a gentle quality,
Last for the frequent means you have to feed us,
You can steal 'tis to be presum'd.

_Hub._ Yes, venison, and if you want--

_Hig._ 'Tis well you understand right,
And shall practise daily: you can drink too?

_Hub._ Soundly.

_Hig._ And ye dare know a woman from a weathercock?

_Hub._ If I handle her.

_Ger._ Now swear him.

_Hig._ I crown thy _nab_, with a _gag of benbouse_,
And _stall_ thee by the _Salmon_ into the _clows_,
To _mand_ on the _pad_, and _strike_ all the _cheats_;
To _Mill_ from the _Ruffmans_, _commision_ and _slates_,
_Twang dell_'s, i' the _stiromell_, and let the _Quire Cuffin_:
And _Herman Beck strine_, and _trine_ to the _Ruffin_.

_Ger._ Now interpret this unto him.

_Hig._ I pour on thy pate a pot of good ale,
And by the Rogues [oth] a Rogue thee instal:
To beg on the way, to rob all thou meets;
To steal from the hedge, both the shirt and the sheets:
And lye with thy wench in the straw till she twang,
Let the Constable, Justice, and Devil go hang.

_Hig._ You are welcom Brother.

_All._ Welcom, welcom, welcom, but who shall have the keeping
Of this fellow?

_Hub._  Sir, if you dare but trust me;
For if I have kept wild dogs and beasts for wonder,
And made 'em tame too: give into my custody
This roaring Rascal, I shall hamper him,
With all his knacks and knaveries, and I fear me
Discover yet a further villany in him;
O he smells ranck o'th' Rascal.

_Ger._ Take him to thee,
But if he scape--

_Hub._ Let me be ev'n hang'd for him,
Come Sir, I'le tye ye to my leash.

_Hem._ Away Rascal.

_Hub._ Be not so stubborn: I shall swindge ye soundly,
And ye play tricks with me.

_Ger._ So, now come in,
But ever have an eye Sir, to your Prisoner.

_Hub._  He must blind both mine eyes, if he get from me.

_Ger._ Go get some victuals, and some drink, some good drink;
For this day we'll keep holy to good fortune,
Come, and be frolick with us.

_Hig._ You are a stranger, Brother, I pray lead,
You must, you must, Brother.         [_Exeunt._




Scena IV.


_Enter_ Goswin _and_ Gertrude.

_Ger._ Indeed you're welcome: I have heard your scape,
And therefore give her leave, that only loves you;
(Truly and dearly loves you) give her joy leave
To bid you welcome: what is't makes you sad man?
Why do you look so wild? Is't I offend you?
Beshrew my heart, not willingly.

_Gos._ No, _Gertrude_.

_Ger._ Is't the delay of that ye long have look'd for,
A happy marriage? now I come to urge it.
Now when you please to finish it?

_Gos._ No news yet?

_Ger._ Do you hear Sir?

_Gos._ Yes.

_Ger._ Do you love me?

_Gos._ Have I liv'd
In all the happiness Fortune could seat me,
In all mens fair opinions?

_Ger._ I have provided
A Priest, that's ready for us.

_Gos._ And can the Devil,
In one ten days, that Devil Chance devour me?

_Ger._ We'll fly to what place you please.

_Gos._ No Star prosperous!
All at a swoop?

_Ger._ You do not love me _Goswin_?
You will not look upon me?

_Gos._ Can mens Prayers
Shot up to Heaven, with such a zeal as mine are,
Fall back like lazy mists, and never prosper?
Jives I must wear, and cold must be my comfort;
Darkness, and want of meat; alas she weeps too,
Which is the top of all my sorrows, _Gertrude_.

_Ger._ No, no, you will not know me; my poor beauty,
Which has been worth your eyes.

_Gos._ The time grows on still;
And like a tumbling wave, I see my ruine
Come rowling over me.

_Ger._ Yet will ye know me?

_Gos._ For a hundred thousand Crowns.

_Ger._ Yet will ye love me?
Tell me but how I have deserv'd your slighting?

_Gos._ For a hundred thousand Crowns?

_Ger._ Farewel Dissembler.

_Gos._ Of which I have scarce ten: O how it starts me!

_Ger._ And may the next you love, hearing my ruine.

_Gos._ I had forgot my self, O my best _Gertrude_,
Crown of my joys and comforts.

_Ger._ Sweet what ails ye?
I thought you had been vext with me.

_Gos._ My mind, Wench,
My mind o'rflow'd with sorrow, sunk my memory.

_Ger._ Am I not worthy of the knowledge of it?
And cannot I as well affect your sorrows,
As your delights? you love no other Woman?

_Gos._ No, I protest.

_Ger._ You have no ships lost lately?

_Gos._ None, that I know of.

_Ger._ I hope you have spilt no blood, whose innocence
May lay this on your conscience.

_Gos._ Clear, by Heaven.

_Ger._ Why should you be thus then?

_Gos._ Good _Gertrude_ ask not,
Ev'n by the love you bear me.

_Ger._ I am obedient.

_Gos._ Go in, my fair, I will not be long from ye,
Nor long I fear me with thee. At my return
Dispose me as you please.

_Ger._ The good gods guide ye.
[_Exit._

_Gos._ Now for my self, which is the least I hope for,
And when that fails, for mans worst fortune, pity.     [_Exit._

Actus Quartus. Scena Prima.


_Enter_ Goswin _and_ 4. Merchants.

_Gos._ Why gentlemen, 'tis but a week more, I intreat you
But 7. short days, I am not running from ye;
Nor, if you give me patience, is it possible
All my adventures fail; you have ships abroad
Endure the beating both of Wind and Weather:
I am sure 'twould vex your hearts, to be protested;
Ye are all fair Merchants.

_1 Mer._ Yes, and must have fair play:
There is no living here else; one hour's failing
Fails us of all our friends, of all our credits:
For my part, I would stay, but my wants tell me,
I must wrong others in't.

_Gos._ No mercy in ye!

_2 Mer._ 'Tis foolish to depend on others mercy:
Keep your self right, and even cut your cloth, Sir,
According to your calling, you have liv'd here,
In Lord-like Prodigality, high, and open,
And now ye find what 'tis: the liberal spending
The Summer of your Youth, which you should glean in,
And like the labouring Ant, make use and gain of,
Has brought this bitter, stormy Winter on ye,
And now you cry.

_3 Mer._ Alas, before your Poverty,
We were no men, of no mark, no endeavour;
You stood alone, took up all trade, all business
Running through your hands, scarce a Sail at Sea,
But loaden with your Goods: we poor weak Pedlers;
When by your leave, and much intreaty to it,
We could have stowage for a little Cloath,
Or a few Wines, put off, and thank your Worship.
Lord, how the World's chang'd with ye? now I hope, Sir,
We shall have Sea-room.

_Gos._ Is my misery
Become my scorn too! have ye no humanity?
No part of men left? are all the Bounties in me
To you, and to the Town, turn'd my reproaches?

_4 Mer._ Well, get your moneys ready: 'tis but 2 hours;
We shall protest ye else, and suddenly.

_Gos._ But two days.

_1 Mer._ Not an hour, ye know the hazard.     [_Exeunt._

_Gos._ How soon my light's put out! hard hearted _Bruges_!
Within thy Walls may never honest Merchant
Venture his fortunes more: O my poor Wench too.

_Enter_ Gerrard.

_Ger._ Good fortune, Master.

_Gos._ Thou mistak'st me, _Clause_,
I am not worth thy Blessing.

_Ger._ Still a sad man!

_Enter_ Higgen _and_ Prigg, _like_ Porters.
No belief gentle Master? come bring it in then,
And now believe your Beadsman.

_Gos._ Is this certain?
Or dost thou work upon my troubled sense?

_Ger._ 'Tis gold, Sir,
Take it and try it.

_Gos._ Certainly 'tis treasure;
Can there be yet this Blessing?

_Ger._ Cease your wonder,
You shall not sink, for ne'r a sowst Flap-dragon,
For ne'r a pickl'd Pilcher of 'em all, Sir,
'Tis there, your full sum, a hundred thousand crowns:
And good sweet Master, now be merry; pay 'em,
Pay the poor pelting Knaves, that know no goodness:
And chear your heart up handsomely.

_Gos._ Good _Clause_,
How cam'st thou by this mighty Sum? if naughtily,
I must not take it of thee, 'twill undo me.

_Ger._ Fear not, you have it by as honest means
As though your father gave it: Sir, you know not
To what a mass, the little we get daily,
Mounts in seven years; we beg it for Heavens charity,
And to the same good we are bound to render it.

_Gos._ What great security?

_Ger._ Away with that, Sir,
Were not ye more than all the men in _Bruges_;
And all the money in my thoughts--

_Gos._ But good _Clause_,
I may dye presently.

_Ger._ Then this dies with ye:
Pay when you can good Master, I'll no Parchments,
Only this charity I shall entreat you;
Leave me this Ring.

_Gos._ Alas, it is too poor, _Clause_.

_Ger._ 'Tis all I ask, and this withal, that when
I shall deliver this back, you shall grant me
Freely one poor petition.

_Gos._ There, I confirm it,      [_Gives the Ring._
And may my faith forsake me when I shun it.

_Ger._ Away, your time draws on. Take up the money,
And follow this young Gentleman.

_Gos._ Farewell _Clause_,
And may thy honest memory live for ever.

_Ger._ Heaven bless you, and still keep you, farewel Master.    [_Exeunt._




Scena II.


_Enter_ Hubert.

_Hub._ I have lockt my Youth up close enough for gadding,
In an old Tree, and set watch over him.

_Enter_ Jaculin.

Now for my Love, for sure this Wench must be she,
She follows me; Come hither, pretty _Minche_.

_Jac._ No, no, you'll kiss.

_Hub._ So I will.

_Jac._ Y'ded law?
How will ye kiss me, pray you?

_Hub._ Thus, soft as my loves lips.

_Jac._ Oh!

_Hub._ What's your Father's name?

_Jac._ He's gone to Heaven.

_Hub._ Is it not _Gerrard_, Sweet?

_Jac._ I'll stay no longer;
My Mother's an old Woman, and my Brother
Was drown'd at Sea, with catching Cockles. O Love!
O how my heart melts in me: how thou fir'st me!

_Hub._ 'Tis certain she; pray let me see your hand, Sweet?

_Jac._ No, no, you'l bite it.

_Hub._ Sure I should know that Gymmal!

_Jac._ 'Tis certain he: I had forgot my Ring too.
O _Hubert_! _Hubert_!

_Hub._ Ha! methought she nam'd me--
Do you know me, Chick?

_Jac._ No indeed, I never saw ye;
But methinks you kiss finely.

_Hub._ Kiss again then;
By Heaven 'tis she.

_Jac._ O what a joy he brings me!

_Hub._ You are not _Minche_?

_Jac._ Yes, pretty Gentleman,
And I must be marry'd to morrow to a Capper.

_Hub._ Must ye my Sweet, and does the Capper love ye?

_Jac._ Yes, yes, he'I give me pie, and look in mine eyes thus.
'Tis he: 'tis my dear Love: O blest Fortune.

_Hub._ How fain she would conceal her self, yet shew it!
Will you love me, and leave that man? I'll serve.

_Jac._ O I shall lose my self!

_Hub._ I'll wait upon you,
And make you dainty Nose-gays.

_Jac._ And where will you stick 'em?

_Hub._ Here in [thy] bosom, Sweet, and make a crown of Lilies
For your fair head.

_Jac._ And will you love me deed-law?

_Hub._ With all my Heart.

_Jac._ Call me to morrow then,
And we'll have brave chear, and go to Church together:
Give you good ev'n Sir.

_Hub._ But one word fair _Minche_.

_Jac._ I must be gone a milking.

_Hub._ Ye shall presently.
Did you never hear of a young maid called _Jaculin_?

_Jac._ I am discover'd; hark in your ear, I'll tell ye:
You must not know me, kiss and be constant ever.

_Hub._ Heaven curse me else 'tis she, and now I am certain
They are all here: now for my other project--     [_Exeunt._




Scena III.


_Enter_ Goswin, 4. Merchants, Higgen, _and_ Prigg.

_1 Mer._ Nay, if 'twould do you courtesie.

_Gos._ None at all, Sir:
Take it, 'tis yours, there's your ten thousand for ye,
Give in my Bills. Your sixteen.

_3 Mer._ Pray be pleas'd Sir
To make a further use.

_Gos._ No.

_3 Mer._ What I have, Sir,
You may command; pray let me be your Servant.

_Gos._ Put your Hats on: I care not for your courtesies,
They are most untimely done, and no truth in 'em.

_2 Mer._ I have a fraught of Pepper.

_Gos._ Rot your Pepper,
Shall I trust you again? there's your seven thousand.

_4 Mer._ Or if you want fine Sugar, 'tis but sending.

_Gos._ No, I can send to _Barbary_, those people
That never yet knew faith, have nobler freedoms:
These carry to _Vanlock_, and take my Bills in,
To _Peter Zuten_ these: bring back my Jewels,
Why are these pieces?

_Enter_ Sayler.

_Sayler._ Health to the noble Merchant,
The _Susan_ is return'd.

_Gos._ Well?

_Say._ Well, and rich Sir,
And now put in.

_Gos._ Heaven thou hast heard my prayers.

_Say._ The brave _Rebeccah_ too, bound from the Straits,
With the next Tide is ready to put after.

_Gos._ What news o'th' fly-boat?

_Say._ If this Wind hold till midnight,
She will be here, and wealthy, 'scap'd fairly.

_Gos._ How, prithee, Sayler?

_Say._ Thus Sir, she had fight
Seven hours together, with six Turkish Gallies,
And she fought bravely; but at length was boarded
And overlaid with strength: when presently
Comes boring up the wind Captain _Vannoke_,
That valiant Gentleman, you redeem'd from prison;
He knew the Boat, set in, and fought it bravely:
Beat all the Gallies off, sunk three, redeem'd her,
And as a service to ye sent her home Sir.

_Gos._ An honest noble Captain, and a thankfull;
There's for thy news: go drink the Merchants health, _Saylor_.

_Say._ I thank your bounty, and I'le do it to a doyt, Sir.
[_Exit_ Saylor.

_1 Mer._ What miracles are pour'd upon this fellow!

_Gos._ This here I hope, my friends, I shall scape prison,
For all your cares to catch me.

_2 Mer._ You may please Sir
To think of your poor servants in displeasure,
Whose all they have, goods, moneys, are at your service.

_Gos._ I thank you,
When I have need of you I shall forget you:
You are paid I hope.

_All._ We joy in your good fortunes.

_Enter_ Van-dunck.

_Van-d._ Come Sir, come take your ease, you must go home
With me, yonder is one weeps and howls.

_Gos._ Alas how does she?

_Van-d._ She will be better soon I hope.

_Gos._ Why soon Sir?

_Van-d._ Why when you have her in your arms, this night
My boy she is thy wife.

_Gos._ With all my heart I take her.

_Van-d._ We have prepar'd, all thy friends will be there,
And all my Rooms shall smoak to see the revel;
Thou hast been wrong'd, and no more shall my service
Wait on the knave her Uncle, I have heard all,
All his baits for my Boy, but thou shalt have her;
Hast thou dispatch't thy business?

_Gos._ Most.

_Van-d._ By the mass Boy,
Thou tumblest now in wealth, and I joy in it,
Thou art the best Boy, that _Bruges_ ever nourish'd.
Thou hast been sad, I'le cheer thee up with Sack,
And when thou art lusty I'le fling thee to thy Mistris.
She'I hug thee, sirrah.

_Gos._ I long to see it,
I had forgot you: there's for you my friends:
You had but heavy burthens; commend my love
To my best love, all the love I have
To honest _Clause_, shortly I will thank him better.     [_Exit._

_Hig._ By the mass a royal Merchant,
Gold by the handfull, here will be sport soon, _Prig._

_Prig._ It partly seems so, and here will I be in a trice.

_Hig._ And I boy,
Away apace, we are look'd for.

_Prig._ Oh these bak'd meats,
Me thinks I smell them hither.

_Hig._ Thy mouth waters.     [_Exeunt._




Scena IV.


_Enter_ Hubert, _and_ Hemskirk.

_Hub._ I Must not.

_Hem._ Why? 'tis in thy power to do it, and in mine
To reward thee to thy wishes.

_Hub._ I dare not, nor I will not.

_Hem._ Gentle Huntsman,
Though thou hast kept me hard: though in thy duty,
Which is requir'd to do it, th' hast used me stubbornly;
I can forgive thee freely.

_Hub._ You the Earls servant?

_Hem._ I swear I am near as his own thoughts to him;
Able to doe thee--

_Hub._ Come, come, leave your prating.

_Hem._ If thou dar'st but try.

_Hub._ I thank you heartily, you will be
The first man that will hang me, a sweet recompence,
I could do, but I do not say I will,
To any honest fellow that would think on't,
And be a benefactor.

_Hem._ If it be not recompenc'd, and to thy own desires,
If within these ten days I do not make thee--

_Hub._ What, a false knave!

_Hem._ Prethee, prethee conceive me [rightly], any thing
Of profit or of place that may advance thee.

_Hub._ Why what a Goosecap would'st thou make me,
Do not I know that men in misery will promise
Any thing, more than their lives can reach at?

_Hem._ Believe me Huntsman,
There shall not one short syllable
That comes from me, pass
Without its full performance.

_Hub._ Say you so Sir?
Have ye e're a good place for my quality?

_Hem._ A thousand Chases, Forests, Parks: I'le make thee
Chief ranger over all the games.

_Hub._ When?

_Hem._ Presently.

_Hub._ This may provoke me: and yet to prove a knave too.

_Hem._ 'Tis to prove honest: 'tis to do good service,
Service for him thou art sworn to, for thy Prince,
Then for thy self that good; what fool would live here,
Poor, and in misery, subject to all dangers,
Law, and lewd people can inflict, when bravely
And to himself he may be law and credit?

_Hub._ Shall I believe thee?

_Hem._ As that thou holdst most holy.

_Hub._ Ye may play tricks.

_Hem._ Then let me never live more.

_Hub._ Then you shall see Sir, I will do a service
That shall deserve indeed.

_Hem._ 'Tis well said, Huntsman,
And thou shall be well thought of.

_Hub._ I will do it: 'tis not your setting free, for that's meer nothing,
But such a service, if the Earl be noble,
He shall for ever love me.

_Hem._ What is't Huntsman?

_Hub._ Do you know any of these people live here?

_Hem._ No.

_Hub._ You are a fool then: here be those, to have 'em,
I know the Earl so well, would make him caper.

_Hem._ Any of the old Lords that rebel'd?

_Hub._ Peace, all,
I know 'em every one, and can betray 'em.

_Hem._ But wilt thou doe this service?

[_Hub._] If you'l keep
Your faith, and free word to me.

_Hem._ Wilt thou swear me?

_Hub._ No, no, I will believe ye: more than that too,
Here's the right heir.

_Hem._ O honest, honest huntsman!

_Hub._ Now, how to get these Gallants, there's the matter,
You will be constant, 'tis no work for me else.

_Hem._ Will the Sun shine again?

_Hub._ The way to get 'em.

_Hem._ Propound it, and it shall be done.

_Hub._ No sleight;
(For they are Devilish crafty, it concerns 'em,)
Nor reconcilement, (for they dare not trust neither)
Must doe this trick.

_Hem._ By force?

_Hub._ I, that must doe it.
And with the person of the Earl himself,
Authority (and mighty) must come on 'em:
Or else in vain: and thus I would have ye do it.
To morrow-night be here: a hundred men will bear 'em,
(So he be there, for he's both wise and valiant,
And with his terrour will strike dead their forces)
The hour be twelve a Clock, now for a guide
To draw ye without danger on these persons,
The woods being thick, and hard to hit, my self
With some few with me, made unto our purpose,
Beyond the wood, upon the plain, will wait ye
By the great Oak.

_Hem._ I know it: keep thy faith huntsman,
And such a showr of wealth--

_Hub._ I warrant ye:
Miss nothing that I tell ye.

_Hem._ No.

_Hub._ Farewel;
You have your liberty, now use it wisely;
And keep your hour, goe closer about the wood there,
For fear they spy you.

_Hem._ Well.

_Hub._ And bring no noise with ye.
[_Exit._

_Hem._ All shall be done to th' purpose: farewel hunts-man.

_Enter_ Gerrard, Higgen, Prig, Ginks, Snap, Ferret.

_Ger._ Now, what's the news in town?

_Ginks._ No news, but joy Sir;
Every man wooing of the noble Merchant,
Who has his hearty commendations to ye.

_Fer._ Yes this is news, this night he's to be married.

_Ginks._ By th' mass that's true, he marrys _Vandunks_ Daughter,
The dainty black-ey'd bell.

_Hig._ I would my clapper
Hung in his baldrick, a what a peal could I Ring?

_Ger._ Married?

_Ginks._ 'Tis very true Sir, O the pyes,
The piping-hot mince-pyes!

_Prig._ O the Plum-pottage!

_Hig._ For one leg of a goose now would I venture a limb boys,
I love a fat goose, as I love allegiance,
And------upon the Boors, too well they know it,
And therefore starve their poultry.

_Ger._ To be married
To _Vandunks_ Daughter?

_Hig._ O this [pretious] Merchant:
What sport he will have! but hark you brother _Prig_,
Shall we do nothing in the foresaid wedding?
There's mony to be got, and meat I take it,
What think ye of a morise?

_Prig._ No, by no means,
That goes no further than the street, there leaves us,
Now we must think of something that must draw us
Into the bowels of it, into th' buttery,
Into the Kitchin, into the Cellar, something
That that old drunken Burgo-master loves,
What think ye of a wassel?

_Hig._ I think worthily.

_Prig._ And very fit it should be, thou, and _Ferret_,
And _Ginks_ to sing the Song: I for the structure,
Which is the bowl.

_Hig._ Which must be up-sey _English_,
Strong, lusty _London_ beer; let's think more of it.

_Ger._ He must not marry.

_Enter_ Hubert.

_Hub._ By your leave in private,
One word Sir, with ye; _Gerrard_: do not start me,
I know ye, and he knows ye, that best loves ye:
_Hubert_ speaks to ye, and you must be _Gerrard_.
The time invites you to it.

_Ger._ Make no show then,
I am glad to see you Sir; and I am _Gerrard_.
How stand affairs?

_Hub._ Fair, if ye dare now follow,
_Hemskirk_ I have let goe, and these my causes,
I'le tell ye privately, and how I have wrought him,
And then to prove me honest to my friends,
Look upon these directions, you have seen his.

_Hig._ Then will I speak a speech, and a brave speech
In praise of Merchants, where's the Ape?

_Prig._ ------ Take him,
A gowty Bear-ward stole him the other day.

_Hig._ May his Bears worry him, that Ape had paid it,
What dainty tricks! ------ O that bursen Bear-ward:
In his French doublet, with his blister'd bullions,
In a long stock ty'd up; O how daintily
Would I have made him wait, and shift a trencher,
Carry a cup of wine? ten thousand stinks
Wait on thy mangy hide, thou lowzy Bear-ward.

_Ger._ 'Tis passing well, I both believe and joy in't,
And will be ready: keep you here the mean while,
And keep in, I must a while forsake ye,
Upon mine anger no man stir, this two hours.

_Hig._ Not to the wedding Sir?

_Ger._ Not any whither.

_Hig._ The wedding must be seen sir; we want meat too.
We are horrible out of meat.

_Prig._ Shall it be spoken,
Fat Capons shak't their tails at's in defiance?
And turkey tombs such honorable monuments,
Shall piggs, Sir, that the Parsons self would envy,
And dainty Ducks--

_Ger._ Not a word more, obey me.
[_Exit_ Ger.

_Hig._ Why then come dolefull death, this is flat tyranny,
And by this hand--

_Hub._ What?

_Hig._ I'le goe sleep upon't.
[_Exit_ Hig.

_Prig._ Nay, and there be a wedding, and we wanting,
Farewel our happy days: we do obey Sir.     [_Exeunt._




Scena V.


_Enter two young_ Merchants.

_1 Mer._ Well met Sir, you are for this lusty wedding.

_2 Mer._ I am so, so are you I take it.

_1 Mer._ Yes,
And it much glads me, that to doe him service
Who is the honour of our trade, and lustre,
We meet thus happily.

_2 Mer._ He's a noble fellow,
And well becomes a bride of such a beauty.

_1 Mer._ She is passing fair indeed, long may their loves
Continue like their youths, in spring of sweetness,
All the young Merchants will be here
No doubt on't,
For he that comes not to attend this wedding,
The curse of a most blind one fall upon him,
A loud wife, and a lazie: here's _Vanlock_.

_Enter_ Vanlock _and_ Francis.

_Vanl._ Well overtaken Gentlemen: save ye.

_1 Mer._ The same to you sir; save ye fair Mistris _Francis_,
I would this happy night might make you blush too.

_Vanl._ She dreams apace.

_Fran._ That's but a drowsie fortune.

_3 Mer._ Nay take us with ye too; we come to that end,
I am sure ye are for the wedding.

_Vanl._ Hand and heart man:
And what their feet can doe, I could have tript it
Before this whorson gout.

_Enter_ Clause.

_Clau._ Bless ye Masters.

_Vanl._ _Clause_? how now _Clause_? thou art come to see thy Master,
(And a good master he is to all poor people)
In all his joy, 'tis honestly done of thee.

_Clau._ Long may he live sir, but my business now is
If you would please to doe it, and to him too.

_Enter_ Goswin.

_Vanl._ He's here himself.

_Gos._ Stand at the door my friends?
I pray walk in: welcom fair Mistris _Francis_,
See what the house affords, there's a young Lady
Will bid you welcom.

_Vanl._ We joy your happiness.
[_Exeunt._

_Gos._ I hope it will be so: _Clause_ nobly welcom,
My honest, my best friend, I have been carefull
To see thy monys--

_Clau._ Sir, that brought not me,
Do you know this Ring again?

_Gos._ Thou hadst it of me.

_Cla._ And do you well remember yet, the boun you gave me
Upon the return of this?

_Gos._ Yes, and I grant it,
Be it what it will: ask what thou canst, I'le do it;
Within my power.

_Cla._ Ye are not married yet?

_Gos._ No.

_Cla._ Faith I shall ask you that that will disturb ye,
But I must put ye to your promise.

_Gos._ Do,
And if I faint and flinch in't--

_Cla._ Well said Master,
And yet it grieves me too: and yet it must be.

_Gos._ Prethee distrust me not.

_Cla._ You must not marry,
That's part of the power you gave me: which to make up,
You must presently depart, and follow me.

_Gos._ Not marry, _Clause_?

_Cla._ Not if you keep your promise,
And give me power to ask.

_Gos._ Pre'thee think better,
I will obey, by Heaven.

_Cla._ I have thought the best, Sir

_Gos._ Give me thy reason, do'st thou fear her honesty?

_Cla._ Chaste as the ice, for any thing I know, Sir.

_Gos._ Why should'st thou light on that then? to what purpose?

_Cla._ I must not now discover.

_Gos._ Must not marry?
Shall I break now when my poor heart is pawn'd?
When all the preparation?

_Cla._ Now or never.

_Gos._ Come, 'tis not that thou would'st: thou do'st but fright me.

_Cla._ Upon my soul it is, Sir, and I bind ye.

_Gos._ _Clause_, can'st thou be so cruel?

_Cla._ You may break, Sir,
But never more in my thoughts appear honest.

_Gos._ Did'st ever see her?

_Cla._ No.

_Gos._ She is such a thing,
O _Clause_, she is such a wonder, such a mirror,
For beauty, and fair vertue, _Europe_ has not:
Why hast thou made me happy, to undo me?
But look upon her; then if thy heart relent not,
I'le quit her presently: who waits there?

_Ser._ [_within_] Sir.

_Gos._ Bid my fair love come hither, and the Company.
Prethee be good unto me; take a mans heart
And look upon her truly: take a friends heart
And feel what misery must follow this.

_Cla._ Take you a noble heart and keep your promise;
I forsook all I had, to make you happy.

_Enter_ Gertrude, Vandunk, _and the rest_ Merchants.

Can that thing call'd a Woman, stop your goodness?

_Gos._ Look there she is, deal with me as thou wilt now,
Did'st ever see a fairer?

_Cla._ She is most goodly.

_Gos._ Pray ye stand still.

_Ger._ What ails my love?

_Gos._ Didst thou ever,
By the fair light of Heave[n], behold a sweeter?
O that thou knew'st but love, or ever felt him,
Look well, look narrowly upon her beauties.

_1 Mer._ Sure h'as some strange design in hand, he starts so.

_2 Mer._ This Beggar has a strong power over his pleasure.

_Gos._ View all her body,

_Cla._ 'Tis exact and excellent.

_Gos._ Is she a thing then to be lost thus lightly?
Her mind is ten times sweeter, ten times nobler,
And but to hear her speak, a Paradise,
And such a love she bears to me, a chaste love,
A vertuous, fair, and fruitful love: 'tis now too
I am ready to enjoy it; the Priest ready, _Clause_,
To say the holy words shall make us happy,
This is a cruelty beyond mans study,
All these are ready, all our joyes are ready,
And all the expectation of our friends,
'Twill be her death to do it.

_Cla._ Let her dye then.

_Gos._ Thou canst not: 'tis impossible.

_Cla._ It must be.

_Gos._ 'Twill kill me too, 'twill murder me: by heaven _Clause_
I'le give thee half I have; come thou shalt save me.

_Cla._ Then you must go with me: I can stay no longer,
If ye be true, and noble.

_Gos._ Hard heart, I'le follow:
Pray ye all go in again, and pray be merry,
I have a weighty business, (give my Cloak there,)

_Enter_ Servant (_with a Cloak._)

Concerns my life, and state, (make no enquiry,)
This present hour befaln me: with the soonest
I shall be here again: nay pray go in, Sir,
And take them with you, 'tis but a night lost, Gentlemen.

_Van._ Come, come in, we will not lose our meat yet,
Nor our good mirth, he cannot stay long from her,
I am sure of that.

_Gos._ I will not stay; believe, Sir.     [_Exit._

_Gertrude_, a word with you.

_Ger._ Why is this stop, Sir?

_Gos._ I have no more time left me, but to kiss thee,
And tell thee this, I am ever thine: farewel wench.     [_Exit._

_Ger._ And is that all your Ceremony? Is this a wedding?
Are all my hopes and prayers turn'd to nothing?
Well, I will say no more, nor sigh, nor sorrow;
Till to thy face I prove thee false. Ah me!     [_Exit._