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Tema: Francis Beaumont & John Fletcher ~ Frensis Bomont & Džon Flečer  (Pročitano 11428 puta)
20. Feb 2006, 22:52:12
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Variety is the spice of life

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The Custom Of The Country

     

Persons Represented in the Play

Count Clodio, _Governour and a dishonourable pursuer of_ Zenocia.
Manuel du Sosa, _Governour of_ Lisbon, _and Brother to_ Guiomar.
Arnoldo, _A Gentleman contracted to_ Zenocia.
Rutilio, _A merry Gentleman Brother to_ Arnoldo.
Charino, _Father to_ Zenocia.
Duarte, _Son to_ Guiomar, _a Gentleman well qualified but vain glorious_.
Alonzo, _a young_ Portugal _Gentleman, enemy to_ Duarte.
Leopold, _a Sea Captain Enamour'd on_ Hippolyta.
Zabulon, _a_ Jew, _servant to_ Hippolyta.
Jaques, _servant to_ Sulpitia.
Doctor.
Chirurgion.
Officers.
Guard.
Page.
Bravo.
Knaves, _of the Male Stewes_.
Servants.

Women

Zenocia, _Mistress to_ Arnoldo, _and a chaste Wife_.
Guiomar, _a vertuous Lady, Mother to_ Duarte.
Hippolyta, _a rich Lady, wantonly in Love with_ Arnoldo.
Sulpitia, _a Bawd, Mistress of the Male Stewes_.

       *       *       *       *       *

_The Scene sometimes_ Lisbon, _sometimes_ Italy.
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Variety is the spice of life

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Actus primus. Scena prima


_Enter_ Rutilio, _and_ Arnold
  • .

    _Rut._ Why do you grieve thus still?

    _Arn._ 'Twould melt a Marble,
    And tame a Savage man, to feel my fortune.

    _Rut._ What fortune? I have liv'd this thirty years,
    And run through all these follies you call fortunes,
    Yet never fixt on any good and constant,
    But what I made myself: why should I grieve then
    At that I may mould any way?

    _Arn._ You are wide still.

    _Rut._ You love a Gentlewoman, a young handsom woman,
    I have lov'd a thosand, not so few.

    _Arn._ You are dispos'd.

    _Rut._ You hope to Marry her; 'tis a lawful calling
    And prettily esteem'd of, but take heed then,
    Take heed dear Brother of a stranger fortune
    Than e're you felt yet; fortune my foe is a friend to it.

    _Arn._ 'Tis true I love, dearly, and truly love,
    A noble, vertuous, and most beauteous Maid,
    And am belov'd again.

    _Rut._ That's too much o' Conscience,
    To love all these would run me out o' my wits.

    _Arn._ Prethee give ear, I am to Marry her.

    _Rut._ Dispatch it then, and I'le go call the Piper.

    _Arn._ But O the wicked Custom of this Country,
    The barbarous, most inhumane, damned Custom.

    _Rut_. 'Tis true, to marry is a Custom
    I' the world; for look you Brother,
    Wou'd any man stand plucking for the Ace of Harts,
    With one pack of Cards all dayes on's life?

    _Arn._ You do not
    Or else you purpose not to understand me.

    _Rut._ Proceed, I will give ear.

    _Arn._ They have a Custom
    In this most beastly Country, out upon't.

    _Rut._ Let's hear it first.

    _Arn._ That when a Maid is contracted
    And ready for the tye o'th' Church, the Governour,
    He that commands in chief, must have her Maiden-head,
    Or Ransom it for mony at his pleasure.

    _Rut._ How might a man atchieve that place? a rare Custom!
    An admirable rare Custom: and none excepted?

    _Arn._ None, none.

    _Rut._ The rarer still: how could I lay about me,
    In this rare Office? are they born to it, or chosen?

    _Arn._ Both equal damnable.

    _Rut._ Me thinks both excellent,
    Would I were the next heir.

    _Arn._ To this mad fortune
    Am I now come, my Marriage is proclaim'd,
    And nothing can redeem me from this mischief.

    _Rut._ She's very young.

    _Arn._ Yes.

    _Rut._ And fair I dare proclaim her,
    Else mine eyes fail.

    _Arn._ Fair as the bud unblasted.

    _Rut._ I cannot blame him then, if 'twere mine own case,
    I would not go an Ace less.

    _Arn._ Fye _Rutilio_,
    Why do you make your brothers misery
    Your sport and game?

    _Rut._ There is no pastime like it.

    _Arn._ I look'd for your advice, your timely Counsel,
    How to avoid this blow, not to be mockt at,
    And my afflictions jeer'd.

    _Rut._ I tell thee _Arnoldo_,
    An thou wert my Father, as thou art but my Brother,
    My younger Brother too, I must be merry.
    And where there is a wench yet can, a young wench,
    A handsome wench, and sooner a good turn too,
    An I were to be hang'd, thus must I handle it.
    But you shall see Sir, I can change this habit
    To do you any service; advise what you please,
    And see with what Devotion I'le attend it?
    But yet me thinks, I am taken with this Custom,

    [_Enter_ Charino _and_ Zenocia.

    And could pretend to th' place.

    _Arn._ Draw off a little;
    Here comes my Mistress and her Father.

    _Rut._ A dainty wench!
    Wou'd I might farm his Custom.

    _Char._ My dear Daughter,
    Now to bethink your self of new advice
    Will be too late, later this timeless sorrow,
    No price, nor prayers, can infringe the fate
    Your beauty hath cast on yo[u], my best _Zenocia_,
    Be rul'd by me, a Fathers care directs ye,
    Look on the Count, look chearfully and sweetly;
    What though he have the power to possess ye,
    To pluck your Maiden honour, and then slight ye
    By Custom unresistible to enjoy you;
    Yet my sweet Child, so much your youth and goodness,
    The beauty of your soul, and Saint-like Modesty,
    Have won upon his mild mind, so much charm'd him,
    That all power laid aside, what Law allows him,
    Or sudden fires, kindled from those bright eyes,
    He sues to be your servant, fairly, nobly
    For ever to be tyed your faithful Husband:
    Consider my best child.

    _Zeno._ I have considered.

    _Char._ The blessedness that this breeds too, consider
    Besides your Fathers Honour, your own peace,
    The banishment for ever of this Custom,
    This base and barbarous use, for after once
    He has found the happiness of holy Marriage,
    And what it is to grow up with one Beauty,
    How he will scorn and kick at such an heritage
    Left him by lust and lewd progenitors.
    All Virgins too, shall bless your name, shall Saint it,
    And like so many Pilgrims go to your shrine,
    When time has turn'd your beauty into ashes,
    Fill'd with your pious memory.

    _Zeno._ Good Father
    Hide not that bitter Pill I loath to swallow
    In such sweet words.

    _Char._ The Count's a handsome Gentleman,
    And having him, y'are certain of a fortune,
    A high and noble fortune to attend you:
    Where if you fling your Love upon this stranger
    This young _Arnoldo_, not knowing from what place
    Or honourable strain of blood he is sprung, you venture
    All your own sweets, and my long cares to nothing,
    Nor are you certain of his faith; why may not that
    Wander as he does, every where?

    _Zen._ No more Sir;
    I must not hear, I dare not hear him wrong'd thus,
    Vertue is never wounded, but I suffer.
    'Tis an ill Office in your age, a poor one,
    To judge thus weakly: and believe your self too,
    A weaker, to betray your innocent Daughter,
    To his intemp'rate, rude, and wild embraces,
    She hates as Heaven hates falshood.

    _Rut._ A good wench,
    She sticks close to you Sir.

    _Zeno._ His faith uncertain?
    The nobleness his vertue springs from, doubted?
    D'ye doubt it is day now? or when your body's perfect,
    Your stomach's well dispos'd, your pulse's temperate,
    D'ye doubt you are in health? I tell you Father,
    One hour of this mans goodness, this mans Nobleness
    Put in the Scale, against the Counts whole being,
    Forgive his lusts too, which are half his life,
    He could no more endure to hold weight with him;
    _Arnoldo's_ very looks, are fair examples;
    His common and indifferent actions,
    Rules and strong ties of vertue: he has my first love,
    To him in sacred vow I have given this body,
    In him my mind inhabits.

    _Rut._ Good wench still.

    _Zeno._ And till he fling me off, as undeserving,
    Which I confess I am, of such a blessing,
    But would be loth to find it so--

    _Arn._ O never;
    Never my happy Mistress, never, never,
    When your poor servant lives but in your favour,
    One foot i'th' grave the other shall not linger.
    What sacrifice of thanks, what age of service,
    What danger, of more dreadful look than death,
    What willing Martyrdom to crown me constant
    May merit such a goodness, such a sweetness?
    A love so Nobly great, no power can ruine;
    Most blessed Maid go on, the Gods that gave this,
    This pure unspotted love, the Child of Heaven,
    In their own goodness, must preserve and save it,
    And raise you a reward beyond our recompence.

    _Zeno._ I ask but you, a pure Maid to possess,
    And then they have crown'd my wishes: If I fall then
    Go seek some better love, mine will debase you.

    _Rut._ A pretty innocent fool; well, Governour,
    Though I think well of your custom, and could wish my self
    For this night in your place, heartily wish it:
    Yet if you play not fair play and above board too,
    I have a foolish gin here, I say no more;
    I'le tell you what, and if your honours guts are not inchanted.

    _Arn._ I should now chide you Sir, for so declining
    The goodness and the grace you have ever shew'd me,
    And your own vertue too, in seeking rashly
    To violate that love Heaven has appointed,
    To wrest your Daughters thoughts, part that affection
    That both our hearts have tyed, and seek to give it.

    _Rut._ To a wild fellow, that would weary her;
    A Cannibal, that feeds on the heads of Maids,
    Then flings their bones and bodies to the Devil,
    Would any man of discretion venture such a gristle,
    To the rude clawes of such a _Cat-a-mountain_?
    You had better tear her between two Oaks, a Town Bull
    Is a meer _Stoick_ to this fellow, a grave Philosopher,
    And a _Spanish_ Jennet, a most vertuous Gentleman.

    _Arn._ Does this seem handsome Sir?

    _Rut._ Though I confess
    Any man would desire to have her, and by any means,
    At any rate too, yet that this common Hangman,
    That hath whipt off the heads of a thousand maids already,
    That he should glean the Harvest, sticks in my stomach:
    This Rogue breaks young wenches to the Saddle,
    And teaches them to stumble ever after;
    That he should have her? for my Brother now
    That is a handsome young fellow; and well thought on,
    And will deal tenderly in the business;
    Or for my self that have a reputation,
    And have studied the conclusions of these causes,
    And know the perfect manage, I'le tell you old Sir,
    If I should call you wise Sir, I should bely you,
    This thing, you study to betray your child to,
    This Maiden-monger. When you have done your best,
    And think you have fixt her in the point of honour,
    Who do you think you have tyed her to? a Surgeon,
    I must confess an excellent dissector,
    One that has cut up more young tender Lamb-pies--

    _Char_. What I spake Gentlemen, was meer compulsion,
    No Fathers free-will, nor did I touch your person
    With any edge of spight; or strain your loves
    With any base, or hir'd perswasions;
    Witness these tears, how well I wisht your fortunes.     [_Exit._

    _Rut_. There's some grace in thee yet, you are determined
    To marry this Count, Lady.

    _Zen_. Marry him _Rutilio_?

    _Rut_. Marry him, and lye with him I mean.

    _Zen_. You cannot mean that,
    If you be a true Gentleman, you dare not,
    The Brother to this man, and one that loves him;
    I'le marry the Devil first.

    _Rut_. A better choice
    And lay his horns by, a handsomer bed-fellow,
    A cooler o' my conscience.

    _Arn_. Pray let me ask you;
    And my dear Mistris, be not angry with me
    For what I shall propound, I am confident,
    No promise, nor no power, can force your love,
    I mean in way of marriage, never stir you,
    Nor to forget my faith, no state can wound you.
    But for this Custom, which this wretched country
    Hath wrought into a law, and must be satisfied;
    Where all the pleas of honour are but laught at,
    And modesty regarded as a may-game,
    What shall be here considered? power we have none,
    To make resistance, nor policie to cross it:
    'Tis held Religion too, to pay this duty.

    _Zeno_. I'le dye an _Atheist_ then.

    _Arn_. My noblest Mistris,
    Not that I wish it so, but say it were so,
    Say you did render up part of your honour,
    For whilst your will is clear, all cannot perish;
    Say for one night you entertain'd this monster,
    Should I esteem you worse, forc'd to this render?
    Your mind I know is pure, and full as beauteous;
    After this short eclipse, you would rise again,
    And shaking off that cloud, spread all your lustre.

    _Zeno_. Who made you witty, to undoe your self, Sir?
    Or are you loaden, with the love I bring you,
    And fain would fling that burthen on another?
    Am I grown common in your eyes _Arnoldo_?
    Old, or unworthy of your fellowship?
    D'ye think because a woman, I must err,
    And therefore rather wish that fall before-hand
    Coloured with Custom, not to be resisted?
    D'ye love as painters doe, only some pieces,
    Some certain handsome touches of your Mistris,
    And let the mind pass by you, unexamined?
    Be not abus'd; with what the maiden vessel
    Is seasoned first, you understand the proverb.

    _Rut_. I am afraid, this thing will make me vertuous.

    _Zeno_. Should you lay by the least part of that love
    Y'ave sworn is mine, your youth and faith has given me,
    To entertain another, nay a fairer,
    And make the case thus desp'rate, she must dy else;
    D'ye think I would give way, or count this honest?
    Be not deceiv'd, these eyes should never see you more,
    This tongue forget to name you, and this heart
    Hate you, as if you were born, my full _Antipathie_.
    _Empire_ and more imperious love, alone
    Rule, and admit no rivals: the purest springs
    When they are courted by lascivious land-floods,
    Their maiden pureness, and their coolness perish.
    And though they purge again to their first beauty,
    The sweetness of their taste is clean departed.
    I must have all or none; and am not worthy
    Longer the noble name of wife, _Arnoldo_,
    Than I can bring a whole heart pure and handsom.

    _Arnol_. I never shall deserve you: not to thank you;
    You are so heavenly good, no man can reach you:
    I am sorrie I spake so rashly, 'twas but to try you.

    _Rut_. You might have tryed a thousand women so,
    And 900, fourscore and 19 should ha' followed your counsel.
    Take heed o' clapping spurrs to such free cattell.

    _Arn_. We must bethink us suddenly and constantly,
    And wisely too, we expect no common danger.

    _Zen_. Be most assur'd, I'le dye first.

    _Enter_ Clodio, _and_ Guard.

    _Rut_. An't come to that once,
    The Devil pick his bones, that dyes a coward,
    I'le jog along with you, here comes the Stallion,
    How smug he looks upon the imagination
    Of what he hopes to act! pox on your kidneys;
    How they begin to melt! how big he bears,
    Sure he will leap before us all: what a sweet company
    Of rogues and panders wait upon his lewdness!
    Plague of your chops, you ha' more handsome bitts,
    Than a hundred honester men, and more deserving.
    How the dogg leers.

    _Clod_. You need not now be jealous,
    I speak at distance to your wife, but when the Priest has done,
    We shall grow nearer, and more familiar.

    _Rut_. I'le watch you for that trick, baboon, I'le
    Smoke you: the rogue sweats, as if he had eaten
    Grains, he broyles, if I do come to the
    Basting of you.

    _Arno_. Your Lordship
    May happily speak this, to fright a stranger,
    But 'tis not in your honour, to perform it;
    The Custom of this place, if such there be,
    At best most damnable, may urge you to it,
    But if you be an honest man you hate it,
    How ever I will presently prepare
    To make her mine, and most undoubtedly
    Believe you are abus'd, this custome feign'd too,
    And what you now pretend, most fair and vertuous.

    _Clod_. Go and believe, a good belief does well Sir;
    And you Sir, clear the place, but leave her here.

    _Arn_. Your Lordships pleasure.

    _Clod_. That anon _Arnoldo_,
    This is but talk.

    _Rut_. Shall we goe off?

    _Arn_. By any means,
    I know she has pious thoughts enough to guard her:
    Besides, here's nothing due to him till the tye be done,
    Nor dare he offer.

    _Rut_. Now do I long to worry him:
    Pray have a care to the main chance.

    _Zen_. Pray Sir, fear not.     [_Exit_ Ar. _and_ Rut.

    _Clod_. Now, what say you to me?

    _Zen_. Sir it becomes
    The modestie, that maids are ever born with,
    To use few words.

    _Clod_. Do you see nothing in me?
    Nothing to catch your eyes, nothing of wonder
    The common mould of men, come short, and want in?
    Do you read no future fortune for your self here?
    And what a happiness it may be to you,
    To have him honour you, all women aim at?
    To have him love you Lady, that man love you,
    The best, and the most beauteous have run mad for?
    Look and be wise, you have a favour offer'd you
    I do not every day propound to women;
    You are a prettie one; and though each hour
    I am glutted with the sacrifice of beautie,
    I may be brought, as you may handle it,
    To cast so good a grace and liking on you.
    You understand, come kiss me, and be joyfull,
    I give you leave.

    _Zen_. Faith Sir, 'twill not shew handsome;
    Our sex is blushing, full of fear, unskil'd too
    In these alarms.

    _Clod_. Learn then and be perfect.

    _Zen_. I do beseech your honour pardon me,
    And take some skilfull one can hold you play,
    I am a fool.

    _Clod_. I tell thee maid I love thee,
    Let that word make thee happie, so far love thee,
    That though I may enjoy thee without ceremony,
    I will descend so low, to marry thee,
    Me thinks I see the race that shall spring from us,
    Some Princes, some great Souldiers.

    _Zen_. I am afraid
    Your honour's couzen'd in this calculation;
    For certain, I shall ne're have a child by you.

    _Clod_. Why?

    _Zen_. Because I must not think to marry you,
    I dare not Sir, the step betwixt your honour,
    And my poor humble State.

    _Clod_. I will descend to thee,
    And buoy thee up.

    _Zen_. I'le sink to th' Center first.
    Why would your Lordship marry, and confine that pleasure
    You ever have had freely cast upon you?
    Take heed my Lord, this marrying is a mad matter,
    Lighter a pair of shackles will hang on you,
    And quieter a quartane feaver find you.
    If you wed me I must enjoy you only,
    Your eyes must be called home, your thoughts in cages,
    To sing to no ears then but mine; your heart bound,
    The custom, that your youth was ever nurst in,
    Must be forgot, I shall forget my duty else,
    And how that will appear--

    _Clod_. Wee'l talk of that more.

    _Zen_. Besides I tell ye, I am naturally,
    As all young women are, that shew like handsome,
    Exceeding proud, being commended, monstrous.
    Of an unquiet temper, seldom pleas'd,
    Unless it be with infinite observance,
    Which you were never bred to; once well angred,
    As every cross in us, provokes that passion,
    And like a Sea, I roule, toss, and chafe a week after.
    And then all mischief I can think upon,
    Abusing of your bed the least and poorest,
    I tell you what you'le finde, and in these fitts,
    This little beauty you are pleased to honour,
    Will be so chang'd, so alter'd to an ugliness,
    To such a vizard, ten to one, I dye too,
    Take't then upon my death you murder'd me.

    _Clod_. Away, away fool, why dost thou proclame these
    To prevent that in me, thou hast chosen in another?

    _Zen_. Him I have chosen, I can rule and master,
    Temper to what I please, you are a great one
    Of a strong will to bend, I dare not venture.
    Be wise my Lord, and say you were well counsel'd,
    Take mony for my ransom, and forget me,
    'Twill be both safe, and noble for your honour,
    And wheresoever my fortunes shall conduct me,
    So worthy mentions I shall render of you,
    So vertuous and so fair.

    _Clod_. You will not marrie me?

    _Zen_. I do beseech your honour, be not angry
    At what I say, I cannot love ye, dare not;
    But set a ransom, for the flowr you covet.

    _Clod_. No mony, nor no prayers, shall redeem that,
    Not all the art you have.

    _Zen_. Set your own price Sir.

    _Clod_. Goe to your wedding, never kneel to me,
    When that's done, you are mine, I will enjoy you:
    Your tears do nothing, I will not lose my custom
    To cast upon my self an Empires fortune.

    _Zen_. My mind shall not pay this custom, cruel man.     [_Ex_.

    _Clod_. Your body will content me: I'le look for you.     [_Ex_.

    _Enter_ Charino, _and servants in blacks. Covering the
    place with blacks_.

    _Char_. Strew all your withered flowers, your Autumn sweets
    By the hot Sun ravisht of bud and beauty
    Thus round about her Bride-bed, hang those blacks there
    The emblemes of her honour lost; all joy
    That leads a Virgin to receive her lover,
    Keep from this place, all fellow-maids that bless her,
    And blushing do unloose her Zone, keep from her:
    No merry noise nor lusty songs be heard here,
    Nor full cups crown'd with wine make the rooms giddy,
    This is no masque of mirth, but murdered honour.
    Sing mournfully that sad Epithalamion
    I gave thee now: and prethee let thy lute weep.

    Song, Dance. _Enter_ Rutilio.

    _Rut_. How now, what livery's this? do you call this a wedding?
    This is more like a funeral.

    _Char_. It is one,
    And my poor Daughter going to her grave,
    To his most loath'd embraces that gapes for her.
    Make the Earles bed readie, is the marriage done Sir?

    _Rut_. Yes they are knit; but must this slubberdegullion
    Have her maiden-head now?

    [_Char_.] There's no avoiding it.

    _Rut_. And there's the scaffold where she must lose it.

    [_Char_.] The bed Sir.

    _Rut_. No way to wipe his mouldy chaps?

    _Char_. That we know.

    _Rut_. To any honest well-deserving fellow,
    And 'twere but to a merry Cobbler, I could sit still now,
    I love the game so well; but that this puckfist,
    This universal rutter--fare ye well Sir;
    And if you have any good prayers, put 'em forward,
    There may be yet a remedie.

    _Char_. I wish it, [_Exit_ Rut.
    And all my best devotions offer to it.

    _Enter_ Clodio, _and_ Guard.

    _Clod_. Now is this tye dispatch'd?

    _Char_. I think it be Sir.

    _Clod_. And my bed ready?

    _Char_. There you may quickly find Sir,
    Such a loath'd preparation.

    _Clod_. Never grumble,
    Nor fling a discontent upon my pleasure,
    It must and shall be done: give me some wine,
    And fill it till it leap upon my lips: [_wine_
    Here's to the foolish maidenhead you wot of,
    The toy I must take pains for.

    _Char_. I beseech your Lordship
    Load not a Fathers love.

    _Clod_. Pledge it _Charino_,
    Or by my life I'le make thee pledge thy last,
    And be sure she be a maid, a perfect Virgin,
    (I will not have my expectation dull'd)
    Or your old pate goes off. I am hot and fiery,
    And my bloud beats alarms through my body,
    And fancie high. You of my guard retire,
    And let me hear no noise about the lodging
    But musick and sweet ayres, now fetch your Daughter,
    And bid the coy wench put on all her beauties,
    All her enticements, out-blush damask Roses,
    And dim the breaking East with her bright Crystals.
    I am all on fire, away.

    _Char_. And I am frozen.     [_Exit_.

    _Enter_ Zenocia _with Bow and Quiver, an Arrow bent_,
    Arnoldo _and_ Rutilio _after her, arm'd_.

    _Zen_. Come fearless on.

    _Rut_. Nay an I budge from thee
    Beat me with durty sticks.

    _Clod_. What Masque is this?
    What pretty fancy to provoke me high?
    The beauteous Huntress, fairer far, and sweeter;
    Diana shewes an Ethiop to this beauty
    Protected by two Virgin Knights.

    _Rut_. That's a lye,
    A loud one, if you knew as much as I do,
    The Guard's dispers'd.

    _Arn_. Fortune I hope invites us.

    _Clod_. I can no longer hold, she pulls my heart from me.

    _Zen_. Stand, and stand fixt, move not a foot, nor speak not,
    For if thou doest, upon this point thy death sits.
    Thou miserable, base, and sordid lecher,
    Thou scum of noble blood, repent and speedily,
    Repent thy thousand thefts, from helpless Virgins,
    Their innocence betrayed to thy embraces.

    _Arn_. The base dishonour, that thou doest to strangers,
    In glorying to abuse the Laws of Marriage,
    Thy Infamy thou hast flung upon thy Country,
    In nourishing this black and barbarous Custom.

    _Clod_. My Guard.

    _Arn_. One word more, and thou diest.

    _Rut_. One syllable
    That tends to any thing, but I beseech you,
    And as y'are Gentlemen tender my case,
    And I'le thrust my Javeling down thy throat.
    Thou Dog-whelp, thou, pox upon thee, what
    Should I call thee, Pompion,
    Thou kiss my Lady? thou scour her Chamber-pot:
    Thou have a Maiden-head? a mottly Coat,
    You great blind fool, farewel and be hang'd to ye,
    Lose no time Lady.

    _Arn_. Pray take your pleasure Sir,
    And so we'l take our leaves.

    _Zen_. We are determined,
    Dye, before yield.

    _Arn_. Honour, and a fair grave.

    _Zen_. Before a lustful Bed, so for our fortunes.

    _Rut_. _Du cat awhee_, good Count, cry, prethee cry,
    O what a wench hast thou lost! cry you great booby.     [_Exe_.

    _Enter_ Charino.

    _Clod_. And is she gone then, am I dishonoured thus,
    Cozened and baffl'd? my Guard there, no man answer?
    My Guard I say, sirrah you knew of this plot;
    Where are my Guard? I'le have your life you villain,
    You politick old Thief.

    _Char_. Heaven send her far enough,

    _Enter Guard_.

    And let me pay the ransom.

    _Guard_. Did your honour call us?

    _Clod_. Post every way, and presently recover
    The two strange Gentlemen, and the fair Lady.

    _Guard_. This day was Married Sir?

    _Clod_. The same.

    _Guard_. We saw 'em.
    Making with all main speed to th' Port.

    _Clod_. Away villains.     [_Exit Guard_.
    Recover her, or I shall dye; deal truly,
    Didst not thou know?

    _Char_. By all that's good I did not.
    If your honour mean their flight, to say I grieve for that,
    Will be to lye; you may handle me as you please.

    _Clod_. Be sure, with all the cruelty, with all the rigor,
    For thou hast rob'd me villain of a treasure.

    _Enter Guard_.

    How now?

    _Guard_. They're all aboard, a Bark rode ready for 'em,
    And now are under Sail, and past recovery.

    _Clod_. Rig me a Ship with all the speed that may be,
    I will not lose her: thou her most false Father,
    Shalt go along; and if I miss her, hear me,
    A whole day will I study to destroy thee.

    _Char_. I shall be joyful of it; and so you'l find me.

    [_Exeunt omnes_.
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    _Enter_ Manuel du Sosa, _and_ Guiomar.

    _Man_.  I Hear and see too much of him, and that
    Compels me Madam, though unwillingly,
    To wish I had no Uncles part in him,
    And much I fear, the comfort of a Son
    You will not long enjoy.

    _Gui_. 'Tis not my fault,
    And therefore from his guilt my innocence
    Cannot be tainted, since his Fathers death,
    (Peace to his soul) a Mothers prayers and care
    Were never wanting, in his education.
    His Child-hood I pass o're, as being brought up
    Under my wing; and growing ripe for study,
    I overcame the tenderness, and joy
    I had to look upon him, and provided
    The choicest Masters, and of greatest name
    Of _Salamanca_, in all liberal Arts.

    _Man_. To train his youth up.
    I must witness that.

    _Gui_. How there he prospered to the admiration
    Of all that knew him, for a general Scholar,
    Being one of note, before he was a man,
    Is still remembred in that _Academy_,
    From thence I sent him to the Emperours Court,
    Attended like his Fathers Son, and there
    Maintain'd him, in such bravery and height,
    As did become a Courtier.

    _Man_. 'Twas that spoil'd him, my Nephew had been happy.
    The Court's a School indeed, in which some few
    Learn vertuous principles, but most forget
    What ever they brought thither good and honest.
    Trifling is there in practice, serious actions
    Are obsolete and out of use, my Nephew
    Had been a happy man, had he ne're known
    What's there in grace and fashion.

    _Gui_. I have heard yet,
    That while he liv'd in Court, the Emperour
    Took notice of his carriage and good parts,
    The Grandees did not scorn his company,
    And of the greatest Ladies he was held
    A compleat Gentleman.

    _Man_. He indeed Daunc'd well;
    A turn o'th' Toe, with a lofty trick or two,
    To argue nimbleness, and a strong back,
    Will go far with a Madam: 'tis most true,
    That he's an excellent Scholar, and he knows it;
    An exact Courtier, and he knows that too;
    He has fought thrice, and come off still with honour,
    Which he forgets not.

    _Gui_. Nor have I much reason,
    To grieve his fortune that way.

    _Man_. You are mistaken,
    Prosperity does search a Gentlemans temper,
    More than his adverse fortune: I have known
    Many, and of rare parts from their success
    In private Duels, rais'd up to such a pride,
    And so transform'd from what they were, that all
    That lov'd them truly, wish'd they had fallen in them.
    I need not write examples, in your Son
    'Tis too apparent; for e're _Don Duarte_
    Made tryal of his valour, he indeed was
    Admired for civil courtesie, but now
    He's swoln so high, out of his own assurance,
    Of what he dares do, that he seeks occasions,
    Unjust occasions, grounded on blind passion,
    Ever to be in quarrels, and this makes him
    Shunn'd of all fair Societies.

    _Gui_. Would it were
    In my weak power to help it: I will use
    With my entreaties th' Authority of a Mother,
    As you may of an Uncle, and enlarge it
    With your command, as being a Governour
    To the great King in _Lisbon.

    Enter_ Duarte _and his Page_.

    _Man_. Here he comes.
    We are unseen, observe him.

    _Dua_. Boy.

    _Page_. My Lord.

    _Dua_. What saith the _Spanish_ Captain that I struck,
    To my bold challenge?

    _Page_.  He refus'd to read it.

    _Dua_. Why didst not leave it there?

    _Page_. I did my Lord,
    But to no purpose, for he seems more willing
    To sit down with the wrongs, than to repair
    His honour by the sword; he knows too well,
    That from your Lordship nothing can be got
    But more blows, and disgraces.

    _Dua_. He's a wretch,
    A miserable wretch, and all my fury
    Is lost upon him; holds the Mask, appointed
    I'th' honour of _Hippolyta_?

    _Page_. 'Tis broke off.

    _Dua_. The reason?

    _Page_. This was one, they heard your Lordship
    Was by the Ladies choice to lead the Dance,
    And therefore they, too well assur'd how far
    You would outshine 'em, gave it o're and said,
    They would not serve for foiles to set you off.

    _Dua_. They at their best are such, and ever shall be
    Where I appear.

    _Man_. Do you note his modesty?

    _Dua_. But was there nothing else pretended?

    _Page_. Yes,
    Young Don _Alonzo_, the great Captains Nephew,
    Stood on comparisons.

    _Dua_. With whom?

    _Page_. With you,
    And openly profess'd that all precedence,
    His birth and state consider'd, was due to him,
    Nor were your Lordship to contend with one
    So far above you.

    _Dua_. I look down upon him
    With such contempt and scorn, as on my slave,
    He's a name only, and all good in him
    He must derive from his great grandsires Ashes,
    For had not their victorious acts bequeath'd
    His titles to him, and wrote on his forehead,
    This is a Lord, he had liv'd unobserv'd
    By any man of mark, and died as one
    Amongst the common route. Compare with me?
    'Tis Gyant-like ambition; I know him,
    And know my self, that man is truly noble,
    And he may justly call that worth his own,
    Which his deserts have purchas'd, I could wish
    My birth were more obscure, my friends and kinsmen
    Of lesser power, or that my provident Father
    Had been like to that riotous Emperour
    That chose his belly for his only heir;
    For being of no family then, and poor
    My vertues wheresoe'r I liv'd, should make
    That kingdom my inheritance.

    _Gui_. Strange self Love!

    _Dua_. For if I studied the Countries Laws,
    I should so easily sound all their depth,
    And rise up such a wonder, that the pleaders,
    That now are in most practice and esteem,
    Should starve for want of Clients: if I travell'd,
    Like wise _Ulysses_ to see men and manners,
    I would return in act, more knowing, than
    _Homer_ could fancy him; if a Physician,
    So oft I would restore death-wounded men,
    That where I liv'd, _Galen_ should not be nam'd,
    And he that joyn'd again the scatter'd limbs
    Of torn _Hippolytus_ should be forgotten.
    I could teach _Ovid_ courtship, how to win
    A _Julia_, and enjoy her, though her Dower
    Were all the Sun gives light to: and for arms
    Were the _Persian_ host that drank up Rivers, added
    To the _Turks_ present powers, I could direct,
    Command, and Marshal them.

    _Man_. And yet you know not
    To rule your self, you would not to a boy else
    Like _Plautus_ Braggart boast thus.

    _Dua_. All I speak,
    In act I can make good.

    _Gui_. Why then being Master
    Of such and so good parts do you destroy them,
    With self opinion, or like a rich miser,
    Hoard up the treasures you possess, imparting
    Nor to your self nor others, the use of them?
    They are to you but like inchanted viands,
    On which you seem to feed, yet pine with hunger;
    And those so rare perfections in my Son
    Which would make others happy, render me
    A wretched Mother.

    _Man_. You are too insolent.
    And those too many excellencies, that feed
    Your pride, turn to a Pleurisie, and kill
    That which should nourish vertue; dare you think
    All blessings are confer'd on you alone?
    Y'are grosly cousen'd; there's no good in you,
    Which others have not: are you a Scholar? so
    Are many, and as knowing: are you valiant?
    Waste not that courage then in braules, but spend it
    In the Wars, in service of your King and Country.

    _Dua_. Yes, so I might be General, no man lives
    That's worthy to command me.

    _Man_. Sir, in _Lisbon_
    I am: and you shall know it; every hour
    I am troubled with complaints of your behaviour
    From men of all conditions, and all sexes.
    And my authority, which you presume
    Will bear you out, in that you are my Nephew,
    No longer shall protect you, for I vow
    Though all that's past I pardon, I will punish
    The next fault with as much severity
    As if you were a stranger, rest assur'd on't.

    _Gui_. And by that love you should bear, or that duty
    You owe a Mother, once more I command you
    To cast this haughtiness off; which if you do,
    All that is mine, is yours, if not, expect
    My prayers, and vows, for your conversion only,
    But never means nor favour.      [_Ex_. Manuel _and_ Guiomar.

    _Dua_. I am Tutor'd
    As if I were a child still, the base Peasants
    That fear, and envy my great worth, have done this;
    But I will find them out, I will o'boord
    Get my disguise; I have too long been idle,
    Nor will I curb my spirit, I was born free,
    And will pursue the course best liketh me.     [_Exeunt_.

    _Enter_ Leopold, Sailers, _and_ Zenocia.

    _Leop_. Divide the spoil amongst you, this fair Captive
    I only challenge for my self.

    _Sail_. You have won her
    And well deserve her: twenty years I have liv'd
    A Burgess of the Sea, and have been present
    At many a desperate fight, but never saw
    So small a Bark with such incredible valour
    So long defended, and against such odds,
    And by two men scarce arm'd too.

    _Leop_. 'Twas a wonder.
    And yet the courage they exprest being taken,
    And their contempt of death wan more upon me
    Than all they did, when they were free: me thinks
    I see them yet when they were brought aboard us,
    Disarm'd and ready to be put in fetters
    How on the suddain, as if they had sworn
    Never to taste the bread of servitude,
    Both snatching up their swords, and from this Virgin,
    Taking a farewel only with their eyes,
    They leapt into the Sea.

    _Sail_. Indeed 'twas rare.

    _Leop_. It wrought so much on me, that but I fear'd
    The great ship that pursued us, our own safety
    Hindring my charitable purpose to 'em,
    I would have took 'em up, and with their lives
    They should have had their liberties.

    _Zen_. O too late,
    For they are lost, for ever lost.

    _Leop_. Take comfort
    'Tis not impossible, but that they live yet,
    For when they left the ships, they were within
    A League o'th' shore, and with such strength and cunning
    They swimming, did delude the rising Billows,
    With one hand making way, and with the other,
    Their bloudy swords advanced, threatning the Sea-gods
    With war, unless they brought them safely off,
    That I am almost confident they live,
    And you again may see them.

    _Zen_. In that hope
    I brook a wretched being, till I am
    Made certain of their fortunes; but they dead,
    Death hath so many doors to let out life,
    I will not long survive them.

    _Leop_. Hope the best,
    And let the courteous usage you have found,
    Not usual in men of War perswade you
    To tell me your condition.

    _Zen_.  You know it,
    A Captive, my fate and your power have made me,
    Such I am now, but what I was it skills not:
    For they being dead, in whom I only live,
    I dare not challenge Family, or Country,
    And therefore Sir enquire not, let it suffice,
    I am your servant, and a thankful servant
    (If you will call that so, which is but duty)
    I ever will be, and my honour safe,
    Which nobly hitherto ye have preserv'd,
    No slavery can appear in such a form,
    Which with a masculine constancy I will not
    Boldly look on and suffer.

    _Leop_. You mistake me:
    That you are made my prisoner, may prove
    The birth of your good fortune. I do find
    A winning language in your tongue and looks;
    Nor can a suit by you mov'd be deni'd,
    And therefore of a prisoner you must be
    The Victors advocate.

    _Zen._ To whom?

    _Leap._ A Lady:
    In whom all graces that can perfect beauty
    Are friendly met. I grant that you are fair:
    And had I not seen her before, perhaps
    I might have sought to you.

    _Zen._ This I hear gladly.

    _Leap._ To this incomparable Lady I will give you,
    (Yet being mine, you are already hers)
    And to serve her is more than to be free,
    At least I think so; and when you live with her,
    If you will please to think on him that brought you
    To such a happiness, for so her bounty
    Will make you think her service, you shall ever
    Make me at your devotion.

    _Zen._ All I can do,
    Rest you assur'd of.

    _Leap._ At night I'le present you,
    Till when I am your Guard.

    _Zen._ Ever your servant.          [_Exeunt._

        _Enter_ Arnoldo _and_ Rutilio.

    _Arn._ To what are we reserv'd?

    _Rut._ Troth 'tis uncertain,
    Drowning we have scap'd miraculously, and
    Stand fair for ought I know for hanging; mony
    We have none, nor e're are like to have,
    'Tis to be doubted: besides we are strangers,
    Wondrous hungry strangers; and charity
    Growing cold, and miracles ceasing,
    Without a Conjurers help, cannot find
    When we shall eat again.

    _Arn._ These are no wants
    If put in ballance with _Zenocias_ loss;
    In that alone all miseries are spoken:
    O my _Rutilio_, when I think on her,
    And that which she may suffer, being a Captive,
    Then I could curse my self, almost those powers
    That send me from the fury of the Ocean.

    _Rut_. You have lost a wife indeed, a fair and chast one,
    Two blessings, not found often in one woman;
    But she may be recovered, questionless
    The ship that took us was of _Portugal_,
    And here in _Lisbon_, by some means or other
    We may hear of her.

    _Arn_. In that hope I live.

    _Rut_. And so do I, but hope is a poor Sallad
    To dine and sup with, after a two dayes fast too,
    Have you no mony left?

    _Arn_. Not a Denier.

    _Rut_. Nor any thing to pawn? 'tis now in fashion,
    Having a Mistress, sure you should not be
    Without a neat Historical shirt.

    _Arn_. For shame
    Talk not so poorly.

    _Rut_. I must talk of that
    Necessity prompts us to, for beg I cannot,
    Nor am I made to creep in at a window,
    To filch to feed me, something must be done,
    And suddenly resolve on't.

    _Enter_ Zabulon _and a Servant_.

    _Arn_. What are these?

    _Rut_. One by his habit is a _Jew_.

    _Zab_. No more:
    Thou art sure that's he.

    _Ser_. Most certain.

    _Zab_. How long is it
    Since first she saw him?

    _Ser_. Some two hours.

    _Zab_. Be gone--let me alone to work him.     [_Exit_ Ser.

    _Rut_. How he eyes you!
    Now he moves towards us, in the Devils name
    What would he with us?

    _Arn_. Innocence is bold:
    Nor can I fear.

    _Zab_. That you are poor and strangers,
    I easily perceive.

    _Rut_. But that you'l help us,
    Or any of your tribe, we dare not hope Sir.

    _Zab_. Why think you so?

    _Rut_. Because you are a _Jew_ Sir,
    And courtesies come sooner from the Devil
    Than any of your Nation.

    _Zab_. We are men,
    And have like you, compassion when we find
    Fit subjects for our bounty, and for proof
    That we dare give, and freely, not to you Sir,
    Pray spare your pains, there's gold, stand not amaz'd,
    'Tis current I assure you.

    _Rut_. Take it man,
    Sure thy good Angel is a _Jew_, and comes
    In his own shape to help thee: I could wish now
    Mine would appear too like a _Turk_.

    _Arn_. I thank you,
    But yet must tell you, if this be the Prologue
    To any bad act, you would have me practise,
    I must not take it.

    _Zab_. This is but the earnest
    Of [t]hat which is to follow, and the bond
    Which you must seal to for't, is your advancement,
    Fortune with all that's in her power to give,
    Offers her self up to you: entertain her,
    And that which Princes have kneel'd for in vain
    Presents it self to you.

    _Arn_. 'Tis above wonder.

    _Zab_. But far beneath the truth, in my relation
    Of what you shall possess, if you emb[r]ace it.
    There is an hour in each mans life appointed
    To make his happiness if then he seize it,
    And this, (in which, beyond all expectation,
    You are invited to your good) is yours,
    If you dare follow me, so, if not, hereafter
    Expect not the like offer.     [_Exit_.

    _Arn_. 'Tis no vision.

    _Rut_. 'Tis gold I'm sure.

    _Arn_. We must like brothers share;
    There's for you.

    _Rut_. By this light I'm glad I have it:
    There are few Gallants, (for men may be such
    And yet want gold, yea and sometimes silver)
    But would receive such favours from the Devil,
    Though he appear'd like a Broker, and demanded
    Sixty i'th' hundred.

    _Arn_. Wherefore should I fear
    Some plot upon my life? 'tis now to me
    Not worth the keeping. I will follow him,
    Farewel, wish me good fortune, we shall meet
    Again I doubt not.

    _Rut_. Or I'le ne're trust _Jew_ more,     [_Exit_ Arnoldo.
    Nor Christian for his sake--plague o' my stars,
    How long might I have walkt without a Cloak,
    Before I should have met with such a fortune?
    We elder Brothers, though we are proper men,
    _Ha' not the luck_, ha' too much beard, that spoils us;
    The smooth Chin carries all: what's here to do now?
    [_Manet_ Rutilio.

    _Enter_ Duarte, Alonzo, _and a_ Page.

    _Dua_. I'le take you as I find you.

    _Alon_. That were base--you see I am unarm'd.

    _Dua_. Out with your Bodkin
    Your Pocket-dagger, your Steletto, out with it,
    Or by this hand I'le kill you: such as you are
    Have studied the undoing of poor Cutlers,
    And made all manly weapons out of fashion:
    You carry Poniards to murder men,
    Yet dare not wear a sword to guard your Honour.

    _Rut_. That's true indeed: upon my life this gallant
    Is brib'd to repeal banisht swords.

    _Dua_. I'le shew you
    The difference now between a _Spanish_ Rapier
    And your pure Pisa.

    _Alon_. Let me fetch a sword,
    Upon mine honour I'le return.

    _Dua._ Not so Sir.

    _Alon._ Or lend me yours I pray you, and take this.

    _Rut._ To be disgrac'd as you are, no I thank you
    Spight of the fashion, while I live, I am
    Instructed to go arm'd: what folly 'tis
    For you that are a man, to put your self
    Into your enemies mercy.

    _Dua._ Yield it quickly
    Or I'le cut off your hand, and now disgrace you,
    Thus kick and baffle you: as you like this,
    You may again prefer complaints against me
    To my Uncle and my Mother, and then think
    To make it good with a Poniard.

    _Alon._ I am paid
    For being of the fashion.

    _Dua._ Get a sword,
    Then if you dare redeem your reputation:
    You know I am easily found: I'le add this to it
    To put you in mind.

    _Rut._ You are too insolent,
    And do insult too much on the advantage
    Of that which your unequal weapon gave you,
    More than your valour.

    _Dua._ This to me, you Peasant?
    Thou art not worthy of my foot poor fellow,
    'Tis scorn, not pity, makes me give thee life:
    Kneel down and thank me for't: how, do you stare?

    _Rut._ I have a sword Sir, you shall find, a good one;
    This is no stabbing guard.

    _Dua._ Wert thou thrice arm'd,
    Thus yet I durst attempt thee.

    _Rut._ Then have at you, [_Fight._
    I scorn to take blows.

    _Dua._ O I am slain. [_Falls._

    _Page._ Help! murther, murther!

    _Alon._ Shift for your self you are dead else,
    You have kill'd the Governou[r]s Nephew.

    _Page._ Raise the streets there.

    _Alon._ If once you are beset you cannot scape,
    Will you betray your self?

    _Rut_. Undone for ever.     [_Exit_ Rut. _and_ Alonzo.

    _Enter_ Officers.

    _1 Off_. Who makes this out-cry?

    _Page_. O my Lord is murdered;
    This way he took, make after him,
    Help help there.              [_Exit_ Page.

    _2 Offi_. 'Tis _Don Duarte_.

    _1 Offi_. Pride has got a fall,
    He was still in quarrels, scorn'd us Peace-makers,
    And all our Bill-authority, now h'as paid for't.
    You ha' met with your match Sir now, bring off his body
    And bear it to the Governour. Some pursue
    The murderer; yet if he scape, it skills not;
    Were I a Prince, I would reward him for't,
    He has rid the City of a turbulent beast,
    There's few will pity him: but for his Mother
    I truly grieve indeed, she's a good Lady.     [_Exeunt_.

    _Enter_ Guiomar _and_ Servants.

    _Gui_. He's not i'th' house?

    _Ser. No Madam.

    _Gui_. Haste and seek him,
    Go all and every where, Pie not to bed
    Till you return him, take away the lights too,
    The Moon lends me too much, to find my fears
    And those devotions I am to pay
    Are written in my heart, not in this book,     [_Kneel_.
    And I shall read them there without a Taper.     [_Ex_. Ser.

    _Enter_ Rutilio.

    _Rut_. I am pursued; all the Ports are stopt too;
    Not any hope to escape, behind, before me,
    On either side I am beset, cursed fortune
    My enemie on the Sea, and on the Land too,
    Redeem'd from one affliction to another:
    Would I had made the greedy waves my tomb
    And dyed obscure, and innocent, not as Nero
    Smear'd o're with blood. Whither have my fears brought me?
    I am got into a house, the doors all open,
    This, by the largeness of the room, the hangings,
    And other rich adornments, glistring through
    The sable masque of night, sayes it belongs
    To one of means and rank: no servant stirring?
    Murmur nor whisper?

    _Guio._ Who's that?

    _Rut._ By the voice,
    This is a woman.

    _Guio._  _Stephana, Jaspe, Julia,_
    Who waits there?

    _Rut._ 'Tis the Lady of the house,
    I'le flie to her protection.

    _Guio._ Speak, what are you?

    _Rut._ Of all that ever breath'd, a man most wretched.

    _Guio._ I am sure you are a man of most ill manners,
    You could not with so little reverence else
    Press to my private chamber. Whither would you,
    Or what do you seek for?

    _Rut._ Gracious woman hear me;
    I am a stranger, and in that I answer
    All your demands, a most unfortunate stranger,
    That call'd unto it by my enemies pride,
    Have left him dead i'th' streets, Justice pursues me,
    And for that life I took unwillingly,
    And in a fair defence, I must lose mine,
    Unless you in your charity protect me.
    Your house is now my sanctuary, and the Altar,
    I gladly would take hold of your sweet mercy.
    By all that's dear unto you, by your vertues,
    And by your innocence, that needs no forgiveness,
    Take pity on me.

    _Guio._ Are you a _Castillian_?

    _Rut._ No Madam, _Italy_ claims my birth.

    _Guio._ I ask not
    With purpose to betray you, if you were
    Ten thousand times a Spaniard, the nation
    We Portugals most hate, I yet would save you
    If it lay in my power: lift up these hangings;
    Behind my Beds head there's a hollow place,
    Into which enter; so, but from this stir not
    If the Officers come, as you expect they will doe,
    I know they owe such reverence to my lodgings,
    That they will easily give credit to me
    And search no further.

    _Rut._ The blest Saints pay for me
    The infinite debt I owe you.

    _Guio._ How he quakes!
    Thus far I feel his heart beat, be of comfort,
    Once more I give my promise for your safety,
    All men are subject to such accidents,
    Especially the valiant; and who knows not,
    But that the charity I afford this stranger
    My only Son else where may stand in need of?

    _Enter Officers, and Servants, with the body of Duarte--Page._

    _1 Ser._ Now Madam, if your wisedom ever could
    Raise up defences against floods of sorrow
    That haste to overwhelm you, make true use of
    Your great discretion.

    _2 Ser._ Your only son
    My Lord _Duart's_ slain.

    _1 Off._ His murtherer, pursued by us
    Was by a boy discovered
    Entring your house, and that induced us
    To press into it for his apprehension.

    _Guio._ Oh!

    _1 Ser._ Sure her heart is broke.

    _Off._ Madam.

    _Guio._ Stand off.
    My sorrow is so dear and pretious to me,
    That you must not partake it, suffer it
    Like wounds that do breed inward to dispatch me.
    O my _Duart_, such an end as this
    Thy pride long since did prophesie; thou art dead,
    And to encrease my misery, thy sad Mother
    Must make a wilfull shipwrack of her vow
    Or thou fall unreveng'd. My Soul's divided,
    And piety to a son, and true performance
    Of hospitable duties to my guest,
    That are to others Angels, are my furies.
    Vengeance knocks at my heart, but my word given
    Denies the entrance, is no _Medium_ left,
    But that I must protect the murderer,
    Or suffer in that faith he made his altar?
    Motherly love give place, the fault made this way,
    To keep a vow, to which high Heaven is witness,
    Heaven may be pleas'd to pardon.

    _Enter_ Manuel, Doctors, Surgeons.

    _Man._ 'Tis too late,
    Hee's gone, past all recovery: now reproof
    Were but unseasonable when I should give comfort,
    And yet remember Sister.

    _Guio._ O forbear,
    Search for the murtherer, and remove the body,
    And as you think fit, give it burial.
    Wretch that I am, uncapable of all comfort,
    And therefore I intreat my friends and kinsfolk,
    And you my Lord, for some space to forbear
    Your courteous visitations.

    _Man._ We obey you.     [_Exeunt omnes with the body._
    Manet Guiomar.

    _Rut._ My Spirits come back, and now despair resigns
    Her place again to hope.

    _Guio._ What ere thou art
    To whom I have given means of life, to witness
    With what Religion I have kept my promise,
    Come fearless forth, but let thy face be cover'd,
    That I hereafter be not forc't to know thee,
    For motherly affection may return
    My vow once paid to heaven. Thou hast taken from me
    The respiration of my heart, the light
    Of my swoln eyes, in his life that sustain'd me:
    Yet my word given to save you, I make good,
    Because what you did, was not done with malice,
    You are not known, there is no mark about you
    That can discover you; let not fear betray you.
    With all convenient speed you can, flie from me
    That I may never see you; and that want
    Of means may be no let unto your journie,
    There are a hundred Crownes: you are at the door now,
    And so Farewell for ever.

    _Rut._ Let me first fall
    Before your feet, and on them pay the duty
    I owe your goodness; next all blessings to you,
    And Heaven restore the joyes I have bereft you,
    With full increase hereafter, living be
    The Goddess stil'd of Hospitalitie.
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    Actus Tertius. Scena Prima.


    _Enter Leopold, and Zenocia._

    _Leo._ Fling off these sullen clouds, you are enter'd now
    Into a house of joy and happiness,
    I have prepar'd a blessing for ye.

    _Zen._ Thank ye, my state would rather ask a curse.

    _Leo._ You are peevish
    And know not when ye are friended, I have us'd those means,
    The Lady of this house, the noble Lady,
    Will take ye as her own, and use ye graciously:
    Make much of what you are, Mistris of that beautie,
    And expose it not to such betraying sorrows,
    When ye are old, and all those sweets hang wither'd,

    _Enter_ Servant.

    Then sit and sigh.

    _Zen._ My _Autumn_ is not far off.

    _Leo._ Have you told your Lady?

    _Ser._ Yes Sir, I have told her
    Both of your noble service, and your present,
    Which she accepts.

    _Leo._ I should be blest to see her.

    _Ser._ That now you cannot doe: she keeps the Chamber
    Not well dispos'd; and has denied all visits,
    The maid I have in charge to receive from ye,
    So please you render her.

    _Leo._ With all my service,
    But fain I would have seen.

    _Ser._ 'Tis but your patience;
    No doubt she cannot but remember nobly.

    _Leo._ These three years I have lov'd this scornfull Lady,
    And follow'd her with all the truth of service,
    In all which time, but twice she has honour'd me
    With sight of her blest beauty: when you please Sir,
    You may receive your charge, and tell your Lady;
    A Gentleman whose life is only dedicated
    To her commands, kisses her beauteous hands;
    And Faire-one, now your help, you may remember
    The honest courtesies, since you are mine,
    I ever did your modestie: you shall be near her,
    And if sometimes you name my service to her,
    And tell her with what nobleness I love her,
    'Twill be a gratitude I shall remember.

    _Zen._ What in my poor power lyes, so it be honest.

    _Leo._ I ask no more.

    _Ser._ You must along with me (Fair.)

    _Leo._ And so I leave you two: but a fortune
    Too happy for my fate: you shall enjoy her.




    Scena Secunda.


    _Enter Zabulon and Servants._

    _Zab._ Be quick, be quick, out with the banquet there,
    These scents are dull; cast richer on, and fuller;
    Scent every place, where have you plac'd the musick?

    _Ser._ Here they stand ready Sir.

    _Zab._ 'Tis well, be sure
    The wines be lusty, high, and full of Spirit,
    And Amber'd all.

    _Ser._ They are.

    _Zab._ Give fair attendance.
    In the best trim, and state, make ready all.
    I shall come presently again.        [_Banquet set forth. Exit._

    _2 Ser._ We shall Sir,
    What preparation's this?
    Some new device
    My Lady has in hand.

    _1 Ser._ O, prosper it
    As long as it carries good wine in the mouth,
    And good meat with it, where are all the rest?

    _2 Ser._ They are ready to attend.      [_Musick._

    _1 Ser._ Sure some great person,
    They would not make this hurry else.

    _2 Ser._ Hark the Musick.

    _Enter_ Zabulon, _and_ Arnoldo.

    It will appear now certain, here it comes.
    Now to our places.

    _Arn._ Whither will he lead me?
    What invitation's this? to what new end
    Are these fair preparations? a rich Banquet,
    Musick, and every place stuck with adornment,
    Fit for a Princes welcome; what new game
    Has Fortune now prepar'd to shew me happy?
    And then again to sink me? 'tis no illusion,
    Mine eyes are not deceiv'd, all these are reall;
    What wealth and state!

    _Zab._ Will you sit down and eat Sir?
    These carry little wonder, they are usual;
    But you shall see, if you be wise to observe it,
    That that will strike dead, strike with amazement,
    Then if you be a man: this fair health to you.

    _Ar._ What shall I see? I pledge ye Sir, I was never
    So buried in amazement--

    _Zab._ You are so still:
    Drink freely.

    _Ar._ The very wines are admirable:
    Good Sir, give me leave to ask this question,
    For what great worthy man are these prepar'd?
    And why do you bring me hither?

    _Zab._ They are for you, Sir;
    And under-value not the worth you carry,
    You are that worthy man: think well of these,
    They shall be more, and greater.

    _Ar._ Well, blind fortune
    Thou hast the prettiest changes when thou art pleas'd,
    To play thy game out wantonly--

    _Zab._ Come be lusty,
    And awake your Spirits.         [_Cease Musick._

    _Ar._  Good Sir, do not wake me.
    For willingly I would dye in this dream, pray whose Servants
    Are all these that attend here?

    _Zab._ They are yours;
    They wait on you.

    _Ar._ I never yet remember
    I kept such faces, nor that I was ever able
    To maintain so many.

    _Zab._ Now you are, and shall be.

    _Ar._ You'l say this house is mine too?

    _Zab._ Say it? swear it.

    _Ar._ And all this wealth?

    _Zab._ This is the least you see Sir.

    _Ar._ Why, where has this been hid these thirtie years?
    For certainly I never found I was wealthie
    Till this hour, never dream'd of house, and Servants.
    I had thought I had been a younger Brother, a poor Gent.
    I may eat boldly then.

    _Zab._ 'Tis prepar'd for ye.

    _Ar._ The taste is perfect, and most delicate:
    But why for me? give me some wine, I do drink;
    I feel it sensibly, and I am here,
    Here in this glorious place: I am bravely us'd too,
    Good Gentle Sir, give me leave to think a little,
    For either I am much abus'd--

    _Zab._ Strike Musick
    And sing that lusty Song.         [_Musick. Song._

    _Ar._ Bewitching harmony!
    Sure I am turn'd into another Creature.

    _Enter_ Hippolyta.

    Happy and blest, _Arnoldo_ was unfortunate;
    Ha! bless mine eyes; what pretious piece of nature
    To pose the world?

    _Zab._ I told you, you would see that
    Would darken these poor preparations;
    What think ye now? nay rise not, 'tis no vision.

    _Ar._ 'Tis more: 'tis miracle.

    _Hip._ You are welcom Sir.

    _Ar._ It speaks, and entertains me still more glorious;
    She is warm, and this is flesh here: how she stirs me!
    Bless me what stars are there?

    _Hip._ May I sit near ye?

    _Ar._ No, you are too pure an object to behold,
    Too excellent to look upon, and live;
    I must remove.

    _Zab._ She is a woman Sir,
    Fy, what faint heart is this?

    _Arn._ The house of wonder.

    _Zab._ Do not you think your self now truly happy?
    You have the abstract of all sweetness by ye,
    The precious wealth youth labours to arrive at;
    Nor is she less in honour, than in beauty,
    _Ferrara's_ Royal Duke is proud to call her
    His best, his Noblest, and most happy Sister,
    Fortune has made her Mistress of herself,
    Wealthy, and wise, without a power to sway her,
    Wonder of _Italy_, of all hearts Mistress.

    _Arn._ And all this is--

    _Zab._ _Hippolyta_ the beauteous.

    _Hip._ You are a poor relator of my fortunes,
    Too weak a Chronicle to speak my blessings,
    And leave out that essential part of story
    I am most high and happy in, most fortunate,
    The acquaintance, and the noble fellowship
    Of this fair Gentleman: pray ye do not wonder,
    Nor hold it strange to hear a handsome Lady
    Speak freely to ye: with your fair leave and courtesie
    I will sit by ye.

    _Arn._ I know not what to answer,
    Nor where I am, nor to what end consider;
    Why do you use me thus?

    _Hip._ Are ye angry Sir,
    Because ye are entertain'd with all humanity?
    Freely and nobly us'd?

    _Arn._ No gentle Lady,
    That were uncivil, but it much amazes me
    A stranger, and a man of no desert
    Should find such floods of courtesie.

    _Hip._ I love ye,
    I honour ye, the first and best of all men,
    And where that fair opinion leads, 'tis usual
    These trifles that but serve to set off, follow.
    I would not have you proud now, nor disdainful
    Because I say I love ye, though I swear it,
    Nor think it a stale favour I fling on ye,
    Though ye be handsome, and the only man
    I must confess I ever fixt mine eye on,
    And bring along all promises that please us,
    Yet I should hate ye then, despise ye, scorn ye,
    And with as much contempt pursue your person,
    As now I do with love. But you are wiser,
    At least I think, more master of your fortune,
    And so I drink your health.

    _Arn._  Hold fast good honesty,
    I am a lost man else.

    _Hip._ Now you may kiss me,
    'Tis the first kiss, I ever askt, I swear to ye.

    _Arn._ That I dare do sweet Lady.

    _Hip._ You do it well too;
    You are a Master Sir, that makes you coy.

    _Arn._ Would you would send your people off.

    _Hip._ Well thought on.
    Wait all without.        [_Exit_ Zab. _and Servants._

    _Zab._ I hope she is pleas'd throughly.

    _Hip._ Why stand ye still? here's no man to detect ye,
    My people are gone off: come, come, leave conjuring,
    The Spirit you would raise, is here already,
    Look boldly on me.

    _Arn._ What would you have me do?

    _Hip._ O most unmanly question! have you do?
    Is't possible your years should want a Tutor?
    I'le teach ye: come, embrace me.

    _Arn._ Fye stand off;
    And give me leave, more now than e're, to wonder,
    A building of so goodly a proportion,
    Outwardly all exact, the frame of Heaven,
    Should hide within so base inhabitants?
    You are as fair, as if the morning bare ye,
    Imagination never made a sweeter;
    Can it be possible this frame should suffer,
    And built on slight affections, fright the viewer?
    Be excellent in all, as you are outward,
    The worthy Mistress of those many blessings
    Heaven has bestowed, make 'em appear still nobler,
    Because they are trusted to a weaker keeper.
    Would ye have me love ye?

    _Hip._ Yes.

    _Arn._ Not for your beauty;
    Though I confess, it blowes the first fire in us,
    Time as he passes by, puts out that sparkle;
    Nor for your wealth, although the world kneel to it,
    And make it all addition to a woman,
    Fortune that ruines all, makes that his conquest;
    Be honest, and be vertuous, I'le admire ye,
    At least be wise, and where ye lay these nets,
    Strow over 'em a little modesty,
    'Twill well become your cause, and catch more Fools.

    _Hip._ Could any one that lov'd this wholesome counsel
    But love the giver more? you make me fonder:
    You have a vertuous mind, I want that ornament;
    Is it a sin I covet to enjoy ye?
    If ye imagine I am too free a Lover,
    And act that part belongs to you, I am silent:
    Mine eyes shall speak my blushes, parly with ye;
    I will not touch your hand, but with a tremble
    Fitting a Vestal Nun; not long to kiss ye,
    But gently as the Air, and undiscern'd too,
    I'le steal it thus: I'le walk your shadow by ye,
    So still and silent that it shall be equal,
    To put me off, as that, and when I covet,
    To give such toyes as these--

    _Arn._ A new temptation--

    _Hip._ Thus like the lazie minutes will I drop 'em,
    Which past once are forgotten.

    _Arn._ Excellent vice!

    _Hip._ Will ye be won? look stedfastly upon me,
    Look manly, take a mans affections to you;
    Young women, in the old world were not wont, Sir,
    To hang out gaudy bushes for their beauties,
    To talk themselves into young mens affections;
    How cold and dull you are!

    _Arn._ How I stagger!
    She is wise, as fair; but 'tis a wicked wisdom;
    I'le choak before I yield.

    _Hip._ Who waits within there?     [Zabulon _within._
    Make ready the green Chamber.

    _Zab._ It shall be Madam.

    _Arn._ I am afraid she will injoy me indeed.

    _Hip._ What Musick do ye love?

    _Arn._ A modest tongue.

    _Hip._ We'l have enough of that: fye, fye, how lumpish!
    In a young Ladyes arms thus dull?

    _Arn._ For Heaven sake
    Profess a little goodness.

    _Hip._ Of what Country?

    _Arn._ I am of _Rome_.

    _Hip._ Nay then I know you mock me,
    The _Italians_ are not frighted with such bug-bears,
    Prethee go in.

    _Arn._ I am not well.

    _Hip._ I'le make thee,
    I'le kiss thee well.

    _Arn._ I am not sick of that sore.

    _Hip._ Upon my Conscience, I must ravish thee,
    I shall be famous for the first example:
    With this I'le tye ye first, then try your strength Sir.

    _Arn._ My strength? away base woman, I abhor thee.
    I am not caught with stales, disease dwell with thee.     [_Exit._

    _Hip._ Are ye so quick? and have I lost my wishes?
    Hoe, _Zabulon_; my servants.

    _Enter_ Zabulon _and_ Servants.

    _Zab._ Call'd ye Madam?

    _Hip._ Is all that beauty scorned, so many su'd for;
    So many Princes? by a stranger too?
    Must I endure this?

    _Zab._ Where's the Gentleman?

    _Hip._ Go presently, pursue the stranger, _Zabulon_.
    He has broke from me, Jewels I have given him:
    Charge him with theft: he has stoln my love, my freedome,
    Draw him before the Governour, imprison him,
    Why dost thou stay?

    _Zab._ I'le teach him a new dance,
    For playing fast and loose with such a Lady.
    Come fellows, come: I'le execute your anger,
    And to the full.

    _Hip._ His scorn shall feel my vengeance.--      [_Exeunt._




    Scena Tertia.


    _Enter_ Sulpicia _and_ Jaques.

    _Sul._ Shall I never see a lusty man again?

    _Ja._ Faith Mistress
    You do so over-labour 'em when you have 'em,
    And so dry-founder 'em, they cannot last.

    _Sul._ Where's the _French_-man?

    _Ja._ Alas, he's all to fitters,
    and lyes, taking the height of his fortune with a Syringe.
    He's chin'd, he's chin'd good man, he is a mourner.

    _Sul._ What's become of the _Dane_?

    _Ja._ Who? goldy-locks?
    He's foul i'th' touch-hole; and recoils again,
    The main Spring's weaken'd that holds up his cock,
    He lies at the sign of the _Sun_, to be new breech'd.

    _Sul._ The Rutter too, is gone.

    _Ja._ O that was a brave Rascal,
    He would labour like a Thrasher: but alas
    What thing can ever last? he has been ill mew'd,
    And drawn too soon; I have seen him in the Hospital.

    _Sul._ There was an _English_-man.

    _Ja._ I there was an _English_-man;
    You'l scant find any now, to make that name good:
    There were those _English_ that were men indeed,
    And would perform like men, but now they are vanisht:
    They are so taken up in their own Country,
    And so beaten of their speed by their own women,
    When they come here, they draw their legs like Hackneys:
    Drink, and their own devices have undone 'em.

    _Sul._ I must have one that's strong, no life in _Lisbon_ else,
    Perfect and young: my Custom with young Ladies,
    And high fed City dames, will fall, and break else.
    I want my self too, in mine age to nourish me:
    They are all sunk I mantain'd: now what's this business,
    What goodly fellow's that?

    _Enter_ Rutilio _and_ Officers.

    _Rut._ Why do you drag me?
    Pox o' your justice; let me loose.

    _1 Offi._ Not so Sir.

    _Rut._ Cannot a man fall into one of your drunken Cellars,
    And venture the breaking on's neck, your trap-doors open,
    But he must be us'd thus rascally?

    _1 Offi._ What made you wandring
    So late i'th' night? you know that is imprisonment.

    _Rut._ May be I walk in my sleep.

    _2 Offi._ May be we'l walk ye.
    What made you wandring Sir, into that vault
    Where all the City store, and the Munition lay?

    _Rut._ I fell into it by chance, I broke my shins for't:
    Your worships feel not that: I knockt my head
    Against a hundred posts, would you had had it.
    Cannot I break my neck in my own defence?

    _2 Offi._ This will not serve: you cannot put it off so,
    Your coming thither was to play the villain,
    To fire the Powder, to blow up that part o'th' City.

    _Rut._ Yes, with my nose: why were the trap-doors open?
    Might not you fall, or you, had you gone that way?
    I thought your City had sunk.

    _1 Offi._ You did your best Sir,
    We must presume, to help it into th' Air,
    If you call that sinking: we have told you what's the law,
    He that is taken there, unless a Magistrate,
    And have command in that place, presently
    If there be nothing found apparent near him
    Worthy his torture, or his present death,
    Must either pay his fine for his presumption,
    (Which is six hundred Duckets) or for six years
    Tug at an Oar i'th' Gallies: will ye walk Sir,
    For we presume you cannot pay the penalty.

    _Rut._ Row in the Gallies, after all this mischief?

    _2 Offi._ May be you were drunk, they'l keep you sober there.

    _Rut._ Tug at an Oar? you are not arrant rascals,
    To catch me in a pit-fall, and betray me?

    _Sul._ A lusty minded man.

    _Ja._  A wondrous able.

    _Sul._  Pray Gentlemen, allow me but that liberty
    To speak a few words with your prisoner,
    And I shall thank you.

    _1 Offi._ Take your pleasure Lady.

    _Sul._ What would you give that woman should redeem ye,
    Redeem ye from this slavery?

    _Rut._ Besides my service
    I would give her my whole self, I would be her vassal.

    _Sul._ She has reason to expect as much, considering
    The great sum she pays for't, yet take comfort,
    What ye shall do to merit this, is easie,
    And I will be the woman shall befriend ye,
    'Tis but to entertain some handsome Ladies,
    And young fair Gentlewomen: you guess the way:
    But giving of your mind--

    _Rut._ I am excellent at it:
    You cannot pick out such another living.
    I understand ye: is't not thus?

    _Sul._ Ye have it.

    _Rut._ Bring me a hundred of 'em: I'le dispatch 'em.
    I will be none but yours: should another offer
    Another way to redeem me, I should scorn it.
    What women you shall please: I am monstrous lusty:
    Not to be taken down: would you have Children?
    I'le get you those as fast, and thick as flie-blows.

    _Sul._ I admire him: wonder at him!

    _Rut._ Hark ye Lady,
    You may require sometimes--

    _Sul._ I by my faith.

    _Rut._ And you shall have it by my faith, and handsomly:
    This old Cat will suck shrewdly: you have no Daughters?
    I flye at all: now am I in my Kingdom.
    Tug at an Oar? no, tug in a Feather-bed,
    With good warm Caudles; hang your bread and water,
    I'le make you young again, believe that Lady.
    I will so frubbish you.

    _Sul._ Come, follow Officers,
    This Gentleman is free: I'le pay the Duckets.

    _Rut._ And when you catch me in your City-powdring-tub
    Again, boil me with Cabbidge.

    _1 Offi._ You are both warn'd and arm'd Sir.     [_Exeunt._




    Scena Quarta.


    _Enter_ Leopold, Hippolyta, Zenocia.

    _Zen._ Will your Ladyship wear this Dressing?

    _Hip._ Leave thy prating:
    I care not what I wear.

    _Zen._ Yet 'tis my duty
    To know your pleasure, and my worst affliction
    To see you discontented.

    _Hip._ Weeping too?
    Prethee forgive me: I am much distemper'd,
    And speak I know not what: to make thee amends
    The Gown that I wore yesterday, is thine;
    Let it alone awhile.

    _Leo._ Now you perceive,
    And taste her bounty.

    _Zen._ Much above my merit.

    _Leo._ But have you not yet found a happy time
    To move for me.

    _Zen._ I have watched all occasions,
    But hitherto, without success: yet doubt not
    But I'le embrace the first means.

    _Leo._ Do, and prosper:
    Excellent creature, whose perfections make
    Even sorrow lovely, if your frowns thus take me,
    What would your smiles doe?

    _Hip._ Pox o' this stale Courtship:
    If I have any power.

    _Leo._ I am commanded,
    Obedience is the Lovers sacrifice
    Which I pay gladly.

    _Hip._ To be forc'd to wooe,
    Being a woman, could not but torment me,
    But bringing for my advocates, youth and beauty,
    Set off with wealth, and then to be deni'd too
    Do's comprehend all tortures. They flatter'd me,
    That said my looks were charms, my touches fetters,
    My locks soft chains, to bind the arms of Princes,
    And make them in that wish'd for bondage, happy.
    I am like others of a coarser feature,
    As weak to allure, but in my dotage, stronger:
    I am no _Circe_; he, more than _Ulysses_,
    Scorns all my offer'd bounties, slights my favours,
    And, as I were some new Egyptian, flyes me,
    Leaving no pawn, but my own shame behind him.
    But he shall finde, that in my fell revenge,
    I am a woman: one that never pardons
    The rude contemner of her proffered sweetness.

    _Enter_ Zabulon.

    _Zab._ Madam, 'tis done.

    _Hip._ What's done?

    _Zab._ The uncivill stranger
    Is at your suite arrested.

    _Hip._ 'Tis well handled.

    _Zab._ And under guard sent to the Governour,
    With whom my testimony, and the favour
    He bears your Ladiship, have so prevail'd
    That he is sentenc'd.

    _Hip._ How?

    _Zab._ To lose his head.

    _Hip._ Is that the means to quench the scorching heat
    Of my inrag'd desires? must innocence suffer,
    'Cause I am faulty? or is my Love so fatall
    That of necessity it must destroy
    The object it most longs for? dull _Hippolyta_,
    To think that injuries could make way for love,
    When courtesies were despis'd: that by his death
    Thou shouldst gain that, which only thou canst hope for
    While he is living: My honour's at the stake now,
    And cannot be preserv'd, unless he perish,
    The enjoying of the thing I love, I ever
    Have priz'd above my fame: why doubt I now then?
    One only way is left me, to redeem all:
    Make ready my Caroch.

    _Leo._  What will you Madam?

    _Hip._ And yet I am impatient of such stay:
    Bind up my hair: fye, fye, while that is doing
    The Law may seise his life: thus as I am then,
    Not like _Hippolyta_, but a _Bacchanal_
    My frantique Love transports me.         [_Exit._

    _Leo._ Sure she's distracted.

    _Zab._ Pray you follow her: I will along with you:
    I more than ghess the cause: women that love
    Are most uncertain, and one minute crave,
    What in another they refuse to have.       [_Exit._




    Scena Quinta.


    _Enter_ Clodio, Charino.

    _Clo._ Assure thy self _Charino_, I am alter'd
    From what I was; the tempests we have met with
    In our uncertain voyage, were smooth gales
    Compar'd to those, the memory of my lusts
    Rais'd in my Conscience: and if ere again
    I live to see _Zenocia_, I will sue,
    And seek to her as a Lover, and a Servant,
    And not command affection, like a Tyrant.

    _Char._ In hearing this, you make me young again,
    And Heaven, it seems, favouring this good change in you
    In setting of a period to our dangers
    Gives us fair hopes to find that here in _Lisbon_
    Which hitherto in vain we long have sought for.
    I have receiv'd assur'd intelligence,
    Such strangers have been seen here: and though yet
    I cannot learn their fortunes, nor the place
    Of their abode, I have a Soul presages
    A fortunate event here.

    _Clo._ There have pass'd
    A mutual enterchange of courtesies
    Between me, and the Governour; therefore boldly
    We may presume of him, and of his power
    If we finde cause to use them, otherwise
    I would not be known here, and these disguises
    Will keep us from discovery.

    _Enter_ Manuel, Doctor, Arnoldo, Guard.

    _Char._ What are these?

    _Clo._ The Governour: with him my Rival, bound.

    _Char._ For certain 'tis _Arnoldo_.

    _Clo._ Let's attend
    What the success will be.

    _Mar._ Is't possible
    There should be hope of his recovery,
    His wounds so many and so deadly?

    _Doct._ So they appear'd at first, but the blood stop'd,
    His trance forsook him, and on better search
    We found they were not mortal.

    _Man._ Use all care
    To perfect this unhop'd for cure: that done
    Propose your own rewards: and till you shall
    Hear farther from me, for some ends I have,
    Conceal it from his Mother.

    _Doct._ Wee'l not fail Sir.           [_Exit._

    _Man._ You still stand confident on your innocence.

    _Arn._ It is my best and last guard, which I will not
    Leave, to relye on your uncertain mercy.

    _Enter_ Hippolyta, Zabulon, Leopold, Zenocia, 2 Servants.

    _Hip._ Who bad you follow me! Goe home, and you Sir,
    As you respect me, goe with her.

    _Arn._ _Zenocia_!
    And in her house a Servant!

    _Char._ 'Tis my Daughter.

    _Clo._ My love? Contain your joy, observe the sequel.     [_Zen. passes._

    _Man._ Fye Madam, how undecent 'tis for you,
    So far unlike your self to bee seen thus
    In th' open streets? why do you kneel? pray you rise,
    I am acquainted with the wrong, and loss
    You have sustain'd, and the Delinquent now
    Stands ready for his punishment.

    _Hip._ Let it fall, Sir,
    On the offender: he is innocent,
    And most unworthy of these bonds he wears,
    But I made up of guilt.

    _Man._ What strange turn's this?

    _Leo._ This was my prisoner once.

    _Hip._ If chastity
    In a young man, and tempted to the height too
    Did ere deserve reward, or admiration,
    He justly may claim both. Love to his person
    (Or if you please give it a fouler name)
    Compel'd me first to train him to my house,
    All engines I rais'd there to shake his vertue,
    Which in the assault were useless; he unmov'd still
    As if he had no part of humane frailty.
    Against the nature of my Sex, almost
    I plaid the Ravisher. You might have seen
    In our contention, young _Apollo_ fly
    And love-sick _Daphne_ follow, all arts failing,
    By flight he wan the victory, breaking from
    My scorn'd embraces: the repulse (in women
    Unsufferable) invited me to practise
    A means to be reveng'd: and from this grew
    His Accusation, and the abuse
    Of your still equall justice: My rage ever
    Thanks heaven, though wanton, I found not my self
    So far engag'd to Hell, to prosecute
    To the death what I had plotted, for that love
    That made me first desire him, then accuse him,
    Commands me with the hazard of my self
    First to entreat his pardon, then acquit him.

    _Man._ What ere you are, so much I love your vertue,
    That I desire your friendship: do you unloose him
    From those bonds, you are worthy of: your repentance
    Makes part of satisfaction; yet I must
    Severely reprehend you.

    _Leo._ I am made
    A stale on all parts: But this fellow shall
    Pay dearly for her favour.

    _Arn._ My life's so full
    Of various changes, that I now despair
    Of any certain port; one trouble ending,
    A new, and worse succeeds it: what should _Zenocia_
    Do in this womans house? Can chastity
    And hot Lust dwell together without infection?
    I would not be or jealous, or secure,
    Yet something must be done, to sound the depth on't:
    That she lives is my bliss, but living there,
    A hell of torments; there's no way to her
    In whom I live, but by this door, through which
    To me 'tis death to enter, yet I must,
    And will make tryal.

    _Man._ Let me hear no more
    Of these devices, Lady: this I pardon,
    And at your intercession I forgive
    Your instrument the Jew too: get you home.
    The hundred thousand crowns you lent the City
    Towards the setting forth of the last Navy
    Bound for the Islands, was a good then, which
    I ballance with your ill now.

    _Char._ Now Sir, to him,
    You know my Daughter needs it.

    _Hip._ Let me take
    A farewell with mine eye, Sir, though my lip
    Be barr'd the Ceremonie, courtesie
    And Custom too allows of.

    _Arn._ Gentle Madam,
    I neither am so cold, nor so ill bred
    But that I dare receive it: you are unguarded,
    And let me tell you that I am asham'd
    Of my late rudeness, and would gladly therefore
    If you please to accept my ready service
    Wait on you to your house.

    _Hip._ Above my hope:
    Sir, if an Angel were to be my convoy,
    He should not be more welcom.--      [_Ex._ Arn. _and_ Hip.

    _Clo._ Now you know me.

    _Man._ Yes Sir, and honour you: ever remembring
    Your many bounties, being ambitious only
    To give you cause to say by some one service
    That I am not ungratefull.

    _Clod._ 'Tis now offer'd:
    I have a suit to you, and an easie one,
    Which e're long you shall know.

    _Man._ When you think fit Sir,
    And then as a command I will receive it,
    Till when, most welcom: you are welcom too Sir,
    'Tis spoken from the heart, and therefore needs not
    Much protestation: at your better leisure
    I will enquire the cause that brought you hither:
    In the mean time serve you.

    _Clod._ You out-doe me Sir.         [_Exeunt._
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    Actus Quartus. Scena Prima.


    _Enter_ Duarte, Doctor.

    _Dua._ You have bestow'd on me a second life,
    For which I live your creature, and have better'd
    What nature fram'd unperfect, my first being
    Insolent pride made monstrous; but this later
    In learning me to know my self, hath taught me
    Not to wrong others.

    _Doct._ Then we live indeed,
    When we can goe to rest without alarm
    Given every minute to a guilt-sick conscience
    To keep us waking, and rise in the morning
    Secure in being innocent: but when
    In the remembrance of our worser actions
    We ever bear about us whips and furies,
    To make the day a night of sorrow to us,
    Even life's a burthen.

    _Dua._ I have found and felt it;
    But will endeavour having first made peace
    With those intestine enemies my rude passions,
    To be so with man-kind: but worthy Doctor,
    Pray if you can resolve me; was the Gentleman
    That left me dead, ere brought unto his tryal?

    _Doct._ Not known, nor apprehended.

    _Dua._ That's my grief.

    _Doct._ Why, do you wish he had been punished?

    _Dua._ No,
    The stream of my swoln sorrow runs not that way:
    For could I find him, as I vow to Heaven
    It shall be my first care to seek him out,
    I would with thanks acknowledge that his sword,
    In opening my veins, which proud bloud poison'd,
    Gave the first symptoms of true health.

    _Doct._ 'Tis in you
    A Christian resolution: that you live
    Is by the Governours, your Uncles charge
    As yet conceal'd. And though a sons loss never
    Was solemniz'd with more tears of true sorrow
    Than have been paid by your unequal'd Mother
    For your supposed death, she's not acquainted
    With your recovery.

    _Dua._ For some few dayes
    Pray let her so continue: thus disguis'd
    I may abroad unknown.

    _Doct._ Without suspicion
    Of being discovered.

    _Dua._ I am confident
    No moisture sooner dies than womens tears,
    And therefore though I know my Mother vertuous,
    Yet being one of that frail sex I purpose
    Her farther tryal.

    _Doct._ That as you think fit--I'le not betray you.

    _Dua._ To find out this stranger
    This true Physician of my mind and manners
    Were such a blessing.  He seem'd poor, and may
    Perhaps be now in want; would I could find him.
    The Innes I'le search first, then the publick Stewes;
    He was of _Italy_, and that Country breeds not
    Precisians that way, but hot Libertines;
    And such the most are: 'tis but a little travail:
    I am unfurnisht too, pray Mr. Doctor,
    Can you supply me?

    _Doct._ With what summ you please.

    _Dua._ I will not be long absent.

    _Doct._ That I wish too;
    For till you have more strength, I would not have you
    To be too bold.

    _Dua._ Fear not, I will be carefull.      [_Exeunt._

    _Enter_ Leopold, Zabulon, Bravo.

    _Zab._ I have brought him Sir, a fellow that will do it
    Though Hell stood in his way, ever provided
    You pay him for't.

    _Leop._ He has a strange aspect,
    And looks much like the figure of a hang-man
    In a table of the Passion.

    _Zab._ He transcends
    All precedents, believe it, a flesh'd ruffian,
    That hath so often taken the Strappado,
    That 'tis to him but as a lofty trick
    Is to a tumbler: he hath perused too
    All Dungeons in _Portu[g]al_, thrice seven years
    Rowed in the Galleys for three several murthers,
    Though I presume that he has done a hundred,
    And scap't unpunisht.

    _Leop._ He is much in debt to you,
    You set him off so well. What will you take Sir
    To beat a fellow for me, that thus wrong'd me?

    _Bra._ To beat him say you?

    _Leop._ Yes, beat him to lameness,
    To cut his lips or nose off; any thing,
    That may disfigure him.

    _Bra._ Let me consider?
    Five hundred pistolets for such a service
    I think were no dear penniworth.

    _Zab._ Five hundred!
    Why there are of your Brother-hood in the City,
    I'le undertake, shall kill a man for twenty.

    _Bra._ Kill him? I think so; I'le kill any man
    For half the mony.

    _Leop._ And will you ask more
    For a sound beating than a murther?

    _Bra._ I Sir,
    And with good reason, for a dog that's dead,
    The Spanish proverb says, will never bite:
    But should I beat or hurt him only, he may
    Recover, and kill me.

    _Leo._ A good conclusion,
    The obduracie of this rascal makes me tender.
    I'le run some other course, there's your reward
    Without the employment.

    _Bra._ For that as you please Sir;
    When you have need to kill a man, pray use me,
    But I am out at beating.            [_Exit._

    _Zab._ What's to be done then?

    _Leop._ I'le tell thee _Zabulon_, and make thee privy
    To my most near designs: this stranger, which
    _Hippolyta_ so dotes on, was my prisoner
    When the last Virgin, I bestowed upon her,
    Was made my prize; how he escaped, hereafter
    I'le let thee know; and it may be the love
    He bears the servant, makes him scorn the Mistris.

    _Zab._ 'Tis not unlike; for the first time he saw her
    His looks exprest so much, and for more proof
    Since he came to my Ladys house, though yet
    He never knew her, he hath practis'd with me
    To help him to a conference, without
    The knowledge of _Hippolyta_; which I promis'd.

    _Leop._ And by all means perform it for their meeting,
    But work it so, that my disdainful Mistris
    (Whom, notwithstanding all her injuries,
    'Tis my hard fate to love) may see and hear them.

    _Zab._ To what end Sir?

    _Leop._ This _Zabulon_: when she sees
    Who is her rival, and her Lovers baseness
    To leave a Princess for her bondwoman,
    The sight will make her scorn, what now she dotes on,
    I'le double thy reward.

    _Zab._ You are like to speed then:
    For I confess what you will soon believe,
    We serve them best that are most apt to give,
    For you, I'le place you where you shall see all, and yet be unobserv'd.

    _Leop._ That I desire too.          [_Exeunt._

    _Enter_ Arnoldo.

    _Arn._ I cannot see her yet, how it afflicts me
    The poyson of this place should mix it self
    With her pure thoughts? 'Twas she that was commanded,
    Or my eyes failed me grosly; that youth, that face
    And all that noble sweetness. May she not live here,
    And yet be honest still?

    _Enter_ Zenocia.

    _Zen._ It is _Arnoldo_,
    From all his dangers free; fortune I bless thee.
    My noble husband! how my joy swells in me,
    But why in this place? what business hath he here?
    He cannot hear of me, I am not known here.
    I left him vertuous; how I shake to think now!
    And how that joy I had, cools, and forsakes me!

    _Enter above_ Hippolyta _and_ Zabulon.

    This Lady is but fair, I have been thought so
    Without compare admired; She has bewitched him
    And he forgot--

    _Arn._ 'Tis she again, the same--the same _Zenocia_.

    _Zab._ There they are together.--Now you may mark.

    _Hip._ Peace, let 'em parly.

    _Arn._ That you are well _Zenocia_, and once more
    Bless my despairing eyes, with your wisht presence,
    I thank the gods; but that I meet you here--

    _Hip._ They are acquainted.

    _Zab._ I found that secret Madam,
    When you co[m]manded her go home: pray hear 'em.

    _Zen._ That you meet me here, ne're blush at that _Arnoldo_.
    Your coming comes too late: I am a woman,
    And one woman with another may be trusted;
    Do you fear the house?

    _Arn._ More than a fear, I know it,
    Know it not good, not honest.

    _Zen._ What do you here then?
    I'th' name of vertue why do you approach it?
    Will you confess the doubt and yet pursue it?
    Where have your eyes been wandring, my _Arnoldo_?
    What constancy, what faith do you call this? Fie,
    Aim at one wanton mark, and wound another?
    I do confess, the Lady fair, most beauteous,
    And able to betray a strong mans liberty,
                     [Leopold _places himself unseen below._
    But you that have a love, a wife--you do well
    To deal thus wisely with me: yet _Arnoldo_,
    Since you are pleas'd to study a new beauty,
    And think this old and ill, beaten with misery,
    Study a nobler way for shame to love me,
    Wrong not her honesty.

    _Arn._ You have confirm'd me.

    _Zen._ Who though she be your wife, will never hinder you,
    So much I rest a servant to your wishes,
    And love your Loves, though they be my destructions,
    No man shall know me, nor the share I have in thee,
    No eye suspect I am able to prevent you,
    For since I am a slave to this great Lady,
    Whom I perceive you follow,

    _Arn._ Be not blinded.

    _Zen._ Fortune shall make me useful to your service,
    I will speak for you.

    _Arn._ Speak for me? you wrong me.

    _Zen._ I will endeavour all the wayes I am able
    To make her think well of you; will that please?
    To make her dote upon you, dote to madness,
    So far against my self I will obey you.
    But when that's done, and I have shewed this duty,
    This great obedience, few will buy it at my price,
    Thus will I shake hands with you, wish you well,
    But never see you more, nor receive comfort
    From any thing, _Arnoldo_.

    _Arn._ You are too tender;
    I neither doubt you, nor desire longer
    To be a man, and live, than I am honest
    And only yours; our infinite affections
    Abus'd us both.

    _Zab._ Where are your favours now?
    The courtesies you shew'd this stranger, Madam?

    _Hip._ Have I now found the cause?

    _Zab._ Attend it further.

    _Zen._ Did she invite you, do you say?

    _Arn._ Most cunningly,
    And with a preparation of that state
    I was brought in and welcom'd.

    _Zen._ Seem'd to love you?

    _Arn._ Most infinitely, at first sight, most dotingly.

    _Zen._ She is a goodly Lady.

    _Arn._ Wondrous handsom:
    At first view, being taken unprepar'd,
    Your memory not present then to assist me,
    She seem'd so glorious sweet, and so far stir'd me,
    Nay be not jealous, there's no harm done.

    _Zen._ Prethee--didst thou not kiss, _Arnoldo_?

    _Arn._ Yes faith did I.

    _Zen._ And then--

    _Arn._ I durst not, did not--

    _Zen._ I forgive you,
    Come tell the truth.

    _Arn._ May be I lay with her.

    _Hip._ He mocks me too, most basely.

    _Zen._ Did ye faith? did ye forget so far?

    _Arn._ Come, come, no weeping;
    I would have lyen first in my grave, believe that.
    Why will you ask those things you would not hear?
    She is too untemperate to betray my vertues,
    Too openly lascivious: had she dealt
    But with that seeming modesty she might,
    And flung a little Art upon her ardor,
    But 'twas forgot, and I forgot to like her,
    And glad I was deceiv'd. No my _Zenocia_,
    My first love here begun, rests here unreapt yet,
    And here for ever.

    _Zen._ You have made me happy,
    Even in the midst of bondage blest.

    _Zab._ You see now
    What rubs are in your way.

    _Hip._ And quickly _Zabulon_
    I'le root 'em out.--Be sure you do this presently.

    _Zab._ Do not you alter then.

    _Hip._ I am resolute.         [_Exit Zabulon._

    _Arn._ To see you only I came hither last,
    Drawn by no love of hers, nor base allurements,
    For by this holy light I hate her heartily.

    _Leop._ I am glad of that, you have sav'd me so much vengeance
    And so much fear,
    From this hour fair befal you.

    _Arn._ Some means I shall make shortly to redeem you,
    Till when, observe her well, and fit her temper,
    Only her lust contemn.

    _Zen._ When shall I see you?

    _Arn._ I will live hereabouts, and bear her fair still,
    Till I can find a fit hour to redeem you.

    _Hip._ Shut all the doors.

    _Arn._ Who's that?

    _Zen._ We are betray'd,
    The Lady of the house has heard our parly,
    Seen us, and seen our Loves.

    _Hip._ You courteous Gallant,
    You that scorn all I can bestow, that laugh at
    The afflictions, and the groans I suffer for you,
    That slight and jeer my love, contemn the fortune
    My favours can fling on you, have I caught you?
    Have I now found the cause? ye fool my wishes;
    Is mine own slave, my bane? I nourish that
    That sucks up my content. I'le pray no more,
    Nor wooe no more; thou shalt see foolish man,
    And to thy bitter pain and anguish, look on
    The vengeance I shall take, provok'd and slighted;
    Redeem her then, and steal her hence: ho _Zabulon_
    Now to your work.

    _Enter_ Zabulon, _and_ Servants, _some holding_ Arnoldo,
    _some ready with a cord to strangle_ Zenocia.

    _Arn._ Lady, but hear me speak first,
    As you have pity.

    _Hip._ I have none. You taught me,
    When I even hung about your neck, you scorn'd me.

    _Zab._ Shall we pluck yet?

    _Hip._ No, hold a little _Zabulon_,
    I'le pluck his heart-strings first: now am I worthy
    A little of your love?

    _Arn._ I'le be your Servant,
    Command me through what danger you shall aime at,
    Let it be death.

    _Hip._ Be sure Sir, I shall fit you.

    _Arn._ But spare this Virgin.

    _Hip._ I would spare that villain first,
    Had cut my Fathers throat.

    _Arn._ Bounteous Lady,
    If in your sex there be that noble softness,
    That tenderness of heart, women are crown'd for--

    _Zen._ Kneel not _Arnoldo_, doe her not that honour,
    She is not worthy such submission,
    I scorn a life depends upon her pity.
    Proud woman do thy worst, and arm thy anger
    With thoughts as black as Hell, as hot and bloody,
    I bring a patience here, shall make 'em blush,
    An innocence, shall outlook thee, and death too.

    _Arn._ Make me your slave, I give my freedom to ye,
    For ever to be fetter'd to your service;
    'Twas I offended, be not so unjust then,
    To strike the innocent, this gentle maid
    Never intended fear and doubt against you:
    She is your Servant, pay not her observance
    With cruel looks, her duteous faith with death.

    _Hip._ Am I fair now? now am I worth your liking?

    _Zen._ Not fair, not to be liked, thou glorious Devil,
    Thou vernisht piece of lust, thou painted fury.

    _Arn._ Speak gently sweet, speak gently.

    _Zen._ I'le speak nobly.
    'Tis not the saving of a life I aim at,
    Mark me lascivious woman, mark me truly,
    And then consider, how I weigh thy anger.
    Life is no longer mine, nor dear unto me,
    Than usefull to his honour I preserve it.
    If thou hadst studied all the courtesies
    Humanity and noble blood are linkt to,
    Thou couldst not have propounded such a benefit,
    Nor heapt upon me such unlookt for honour
    As dying for his sake, to be his Martyr,
    'Tis such a grace.

    _Hip._ You shall not want that favour,
    Let your bones work miracles.

    _Arn._ Dear Lady
    By those fair eyes--

    _Hip._ There is but this way left ye
    To save her life.--

    _Arn._ Speak it, and I embrace it.

    _Hip._ Come to my private chamber presently,
    And there, what love and I command--

    _Arn._ I'le doe it,
    Be comforted _Zenocia_.

    _Zen._ Do not do this
    To save me, do not lose your self I charge you,
    I charge you by your love, that love [you] bear me;
    That love, that constant love you have twin'd to me,
    By all your promises, take heed you keep 'em,
    Now is your constant tryal. If thou dost this,
    Or mov'st one foot, to guide thee to her lust,
    My curses and eternal hate pursue thee.
    Redeem me at the base price of dis-loyalty?
    Must my undoubted honesty be thy Bawd too?
    Go and intwine thy self about that body;
    Tell her, for my life thou hast lost thine honour,
    Pull'd all thy vows from heaven, basely, most basely
    Stoop'd to the servile flames of that foul woman,
    To add an hour to me that hate thee for it,
    Know thee not again, nor name thee for a Husband.

    _Arn._ What shall I do to save her?

    _Hip._ How now, what hast there?

    _Enter a_ Servant.

    _Ser._ The Governour, attended with some Gentlemen,
    Are newly entred, to speak with your Ladiship.

    _Hip._ Pox o' their business, reprieve her for this hour,
    I shall have other time.

    _Arn._ Now fortune help us.

    _Hip._ I'le meet 'em presently: retire awhile all.     [_Exeunt._

    _Zab._ You rise to day upon your right side Lady;
    You know the danger too, and may prevent it,
    And if you suffer her to perish thus,
    As she must do, and suddenly, believe it,
    Unless you stand her friend; you know the way on't,
    I guess you poorly love her, less your fortune.
    Let her know nothing, and perform this matter,
    There are hours ordained for several businesses,
    You understand.

    _Arn._ I understand you Bawd Sir,
    And such a Counsellour I never car'd for.

    _Enter the_ Governour, Clodio, Leopold, Charino _and_
    Attendants _at one door_, Hippolyta _at the other._

    _Hip._ Your Lordship does me honour.

    _Gover._ Fair _Hippolyta_,
    I am come to ease you of a charge.

    _Hip._ I keep none
    I count a burthen Sir: and yet I lye too.

    _Gover._ Which is the Maid; is she here?

    _Clod._ Yes Sir,
    This is she, this is _Zenocia_,
    The very same I sued to your Lordship for.

    _Zen._ _Clodio_ again? more misery? more ruin?
    Under what angry star is my life govern'd?

    _Gov._ Come hither Maid, you are once more a free woman,
    Here I discharge your bonds.

    _Arn._ Another smile,
    Another trick of fortune to betray us!

    _Hip._ Why does your Lordship use me so unnobly?
    Against my will to take away my bond-woman?

    _Gov._ She was no lawful prize, therefore no bond-woman:
    She's of that Country we hold friendship with,
    And ever did, and therefore to be used
    With entertainment, fair and courteous.
    The breach of League in us gives foul example,
    Therefore you must be pleas'd to think this honest;
    Did you know what she was?

    _Leop._ Not till this instant;
    For had I known her, she had been no prisoner.

    _Gov._ There, take the Maid, she is at her own dispose now,
    And if there be ought else to do your honour
    Any poor service in--

    _Clod._ I am vowed your servant.

    _Arn._ Your Father's here too, that's our only comfort,
    And in a Country now, we stand free people,
    Where _Clodio_ has no power, be comforted.

    _Zen._ I fear some trick yet.

    _Arn._ Be not so dejected.

    _Gover._ You must not be displeas'd; so farewel Lady.
    Come Gentlemen; Captain, you must with me too,
    I have a little business.

    _Leop._ I attend your Lordship:
    Now my way's free, and my hope's Lord again.
                            [_Exeunt all but_ Hip. _and_ Zab.

    _Hip._ D'ye jeer me now ye are going?
    I may live yet--to make you howl both.

    _Zab._ You might have done; you had power then,
    But now the chains are off, the command lost,
    And such a story they will make of this
    To laugh out lazie time.

    _Hip._ No means yet left me?
    For now I burst with anger: none to satisfie me?
    No comfort? no revenge?

    _Zab._ You speak too late;
    You might have had all these, your useful servants,
    Had you been wise, and suddain: what power, or will
    Over her beauty, have you now? by violence
    To constrain his love; she is as free as you are,
    And no law can impeach her liberty,
    And whilst she is so, _Arnoldo_ will despise you.

    _Hip._ Either my love or anger must be satisfied,
    Or I must dye.

    _Zab._ I have a way wou'd do it,
    Wou'd do it yet, protect me from the Law.

    _Hip._ From any thing; thou knowest what power I have,
    What mony, and what friends.

    _Zab._ 'Tis a devilish one:
    But such must now be us'd: walk in, I'le tell you;
    And if you like it, if the Devil can do any thing--

    _Hip._ Devil, or what thou wilt, so I be satisfied.     [_Ex._

    _Enter_ Sulpitia, _and_ Jaques.

    _Sulp._ This is the rarest and the lustiest fellow,
    And so bestirs himself--

    _Jaq._ Give him breath Mistress,
    You'l melt him else.

    _Sulp._ He does perform such wonders--
    The women are mad on him.

    _Jaq._ Give him breath I say;
    The man is but a man, he must have breath.

    _Sulp._ How many had he yesterday?
    And they paid bravely too.

    _Jaq._ About fourteen,
    But still I cry give breath, spare him and have him.

    _Sulp._ Five Dames to day; this was a small stage,
    He may endure five more.

    _Jaq._ Breath, breath I cry still;
    Body o' me give breath, the man's a lost man else.
    Feed him and give him breath.

    _Enter_ 2 Gentlewomen.

    _Sulp._ Welcome Gentlewomen,
    Y'are very welcome.

    _1 Gen._ We hear you have a lusty and well complexion'd fellow
    That does rare tricks; my Sister and my self here,
    Would trifle out an hour or two, so please you.

    _Sulp._ _Jaques_, conduct 'em in.

    _Both._ There's for your courtesie.           [_Ex._ Jaq. _and_ Gent.

    _Sulp._ Good pay still, good round pay, this happy fellow
    Will set me up again; he brings in gold
    Faster than I have leisure to receive it.
    O that his body were not flesh and fading;
    But I'le so pap him up--nothing too dear for him;
    What a sweet scent he has?--Now what news _Jaques_?

    _Jaq._ He cannot last, I pity the poor man,
    I suffer for him; two Coaches of young City dames,
    And they drive as the Devil were in the wheels,
    Are ready now to enter: and behind these
    An old dead-palsied Lady in a Litter,
    And she makes all the haste she can: the man's lost,
    You may gather up his dry bones to make Nine-pins,
    But for his flesh.

    _Sulp._ These are but easie labours
    Yet, for I know he must have rest.

    _Ja._ He must--you'll beat him off his legs else presently.

    _Sul._ Go in, and bid him please himself, I am pleas'd too:
    To morrow's a new day; but if he can
    I would have him take pity o' the old Lady.
    Alas 'tis charity.

    _Jaq._ I'le tell him all this,
    And if he be not too fool-hardy.

    _Enter_ Zabulon.

    _Sulp._ How now?
    What news with you?

    _Zab._ You must presently
    Shew all the art you have, and for my Lady.

    _Sulp._ She may command.

    _Zab._ You must not dream nor trifle.

    _Sulp._ Which way?

    _Zab._ A spell you must prepare, a powerful one,
    Peruse but these directions, you shall find all;
    There is the picture too, be quick, and faithful,
    And do it with that strength--when 'tis perform'd,
    Pitch your reward at what you please, you have it.

    _Sul._ I'le do my best, and suddenly: but hark ye,
    Will you never lye at home again?

    _Zab._ Excuse me,
    I have too much business yet.

    _Sulp._ I am right glad on't.

    _Zab._ Think on your business, so farewel.

    _Sulp._ I'le do it.

    _Zab._ Within this hour I'le visit you again
    And give you greater lights.

    _Sulp._ I shall observe ye;
    This brings a brave reward, bravely I'le do it,
    And all the hidden art I have, express in't.     [_Exeunt at both doors._

    _Enter_ Rutilio _with a Night-cap._

    _Rut._ Now do I look as if I were Crow-trodden,
    Fye, how my hams shrink under me!  O me,
    I am broken-winded too; is this a life?
    Is this the recreation I have aim'd at?
    I had a body once, a handsome body,
    And wholesome too. Now I appear like a rascal,
    That had been hung a year or two in Gibbets.
    Fye how I faint! women? keep me from women;
    Place me before a Cannon, 'tis a pleasure;
    Stretch me upon a Rack, a recreation;
    But women? women? O the Devil! women?
    _Curtius_ Gulf was never half so dangerous.
    Is there no way to find the Trap-door again,
    And fall into the Cellar, and be taken?
    No lucky fortune to direct me that way?
    No Gallies to be got, nor yet no Gallows?
    For I fear nothing now, no earthly thing
    But these unsatisfied Men-leeches, women.
    How devilishly my bones ake! O the old Lady!
    I have a kind of waiting-woman lyes cross my back too,
    O how she stings! no treason to deliver me?
    Now what are you? do you mock me?

      _Enter_ 3. _with Night-caps very faintly._

    _1_ No Sir, no;
    We were your Predecessors in this place.

    _2_ And come to see you bear up.

    _Rut._ Good Gentlemen;
    You seem to have a snuffing in your head Sir,
    A parlous snuffing, but this same dampish air--

    _2_ A dampish air indeed.

    _Rut._ Blow your face tenderly,
    Your nose will ne're endure it: mercy o' me,
    What are men chang'd to here? is my nose fast yet?
    Me thinks it shakes i'th' hilts: pray tell me gentlemen,
    How long is't since you flourisht here?

    _3_ Not long since.

    _Rut._ Move your self easily, I see you are tender,
    Nor long endured.

    _2_ The labour was so much Sir,
    And so few to perform it--

    _Rut._ Must I come to this?
    And draw my legs after me like a lame Dog?
    I cannot run away, I am too feeble:
    Will you sue for this place again Gentlemen?

    _1_ No truly Sir, the place has been too warm for our complexions.
    We have enough on't, rest you merry Sir,
    We came but to congratulate your fortune,
    You have abundance.

    _3_ Bear your fortune soberly,
    And so we leave you to the next fair Lady.     [_Ex. the_ 3.

    _Rut._ Stay but a little, and I'le meet you Gentlemen,
    At the next Hospital: there's no living thus,
    Nor am I able to endure it longer,
    With all the helps and heats that can be given me,
    I am at my trot already: they are fair and young
    Most of the women that repair unto me,
    But they stick on like Burs, shake me like Feathers.

    _Enter_ Sulpitia.

    More Women yet?
    Would I were honestly married
    To any thing that had but half a face,
    And not a groat to keep her, nor a smock,
    That I might be civilly merry when I pleased,
    Rather than labouring in these Fulling-mills.

    _Sul._ By this the spell begins to work: you are lusty,
    I see you bear up bravely yet.

    _Rut._ Do you hear Lady,
    Do not make a game-bear of me, to play me hourly,
    And fling on all your whelps; it would not hold;
    Play me with some discretion; to day one course,
    And two dayes hence another.

    _Sulp._ If you be so angry
    Pay back the mony I redeem'd you at
    And take your course, I can have men enough:
    You have cost me a hundred crowns since you came hither,
    In Broths and strength[n]ing Caudles; till you do pay me,
    If you will eat and live, you shall endeavour,
    I'le chain you to't else.

    _Rut._ Make me a Dog-kennel,
    I'le keep your house and bark, and feed on bare bones,
    And be whipt out o' doors,
    Do you mark me Lady? whipt,
    I'le eat old shoes.

    _Enter_ Duarte.

    _Dua._ In this house I am told
    There is a stranger, of a goodly person,
    And such a one there was; if I could see him,
    I yet remember him.

    _Sulp._ Your business Sir,
    If it be for a woman, ye are couzen'd,
    I keep none here.               [_Exit._

    _Dua._ Certain this is the Gentleman;
    The very same.

    _Rut._ Death, if I had but mony,
    Or any friend to bring me from this bondage,
    I would Thresh, set up a Cobler's shop, keep Hogs,
    And feed with 'em, sell Tinder-boxes,
    And Knights of Ginger-bread, Thatch for three
    Half pence a day, and think it Lordly,
    From this base Stallion trade: why does he eye me,
    Eye me so narrowly?

    _Dua._ It seems you are troubled Sir,
    I heard you speak of want.

    _Rut._ 'Tis better hearing
    Far, than relieving Sir.

    _Dua._ I do not think so, you know me not.

    _Rut._ Not yet that I remember.

    _Dua._ You shall, and for your friend: I am beholding to ye,
    Greatly beholding Sir; if you remember,
    You fought with such a man, they call'd _Duarte_,
    A proud distemper'd man: he was my enemy,
    My mortal foe, you slew him fairly, nobly.

    _Rut._ Speak softly Sir, you do not mean to betray me,
    I wisht the Gallows, now th'are coming fairly.

    _Dua._ Be confident, for as I live, I love you,
    And now you shall perceive it: for that service,
    Me, and my purse command: there, take it to ye,
    'Tis gold, and no small sum, a thousand Duckets,
    Supply your want.

    _Rut._ But do you do this faithfully?

    _Dua._ If I mean ill, spit in my face and kick me:
    In what else I may serve you, Sir--

    _Rut._ I thank you,
    This is as strange to me as Knights adventures.
    I have a project, 'tis an honest one,
    And now I'le tempt my fortune.

    _Dua._ Trust me with it.

    _Rut._ You are so good and honest I must trust ye,
    'Tis but to carry a letter to a Lady
    That sav'd my life once.

    _Dua._ That will be most thankful,
    I will do't with all care.

    _Rut._ Where are you, white-broth?
    Now lusty blood,
    Come in, and tell your mony:
    'Tis ready here, no threats, nor no orations,
    Nor prayers now.

    _Sulp._ You do not mean to leave me.

    _Rut._ I'le live in Hell sooner than here, and cooler.
    Come quickly come, dispatch, this air's unwho[l]som:
    Quickly good Lady, quickly to't.

    _Sulp._ Well, since it must be,
    The next I'le fetter faster sure, and closer.

    _Rut._ And pick his bones, as y'have done mine, pox take ye.

    _Dua._ At my lodging for a while, you shall be quartered,
    And there take Physick for your health.

    _Rut._ I thank ye,
    I have found my angel now too, if I can keep him.
                                               [_Exeunt omnes._
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    Actus Quintus. Scena Prima.


    _Enter Rutilio and Duarte._

    _Rut. You like the Letter?

    _Dua._ Yes, but I must tell you
    You tempt a desperate hazard, to sollicite
    The mother, (and the grieved one too, 'tis rumor'd)
    Of him you slew so lately.

    _Rut._ I have told you
    Some proofs of her affection, and I know not
    A nearer way to make her satisfaction
    For a lost Son, than speedily to help her
    To a good Husband; one that will beget
    Both Sons and Daughters, if she be not barren.
    I have had a breathing now, and have recovered
    What I lost in my late service, 'twas a hot one:
    It fired and fired me; but all thanks to you Sir,
    You have both freed and cool'd me.

    _Dua._ What is done Sir,
    I thought well done, and was in that rewarded,
    And therefore spare your thanks.

    _Rut._ I'le no more Whoring:
    This fencing 'twixt a pair of sheets, more wears one
    Than all the exercise in the world besides.
    To be drunk with good Canary, a meer Julip
    Or like gourd-water to't; twenty Surfeits
    Come short of one nights work there. If I get this Lady
    As ten to one I shall, I was ne're denied yet,
    I will live wondrous honestly; walk before her
    Gravely and demurely
    And then instruct my family; you are sad,
    What do you muse on Sir?

    _Dua._ Truth I was thinking
    What course to take for the delivery of your letter,
    And now I have it: but faith did this Lady
    (For do not gull your self) for certain know,
    You kill'd her Son?

    _Rut._ Give me a Book I'le swear't;
    Denyed me to the Officers, that pursued me,
    Brought me her self to th' door, then gave me gold
    To bear my charges, and shall I make doubt then
    But that she lov'd me? I am confident
    Time having ta'ne her grief off, that I shall be
    Most welcome to her: for then to have wooed her
    Had been unseasonable.

    _Dua._ Well Sir, there's more mony,
    To ma[ke] you handsome; I'le about your business:
    You know where you must stay?

    _Rut._ There you shall find me:
    Would I could meet my Brother now, to know,
    Whether the Jew, his Genius, or my Christian,
    Has prov'd the better friend.           [_Exit._

    _Dua._  O who would trust
    Deceiving woman! or believe that one
    The best, and most Canoniz'd ever was
    More than a seeming goodness? I could rail now
    Against the sex, and curse it; but the theam
    And way's too common: yet that _Guiomar_
    My Mother; (nor let that forbid her to be
    The wonder of our nation) she that was
    Mark'd out the great example, for all Matrons
    Both Wife and Widow; she that in my breeding
    Exprest the utmost of a Mothers care,
    And tenderness to a Son; she that yet feigns
    Such sorrow for me; good God, that this mother,
    After all this, should give up to a stranger,
    The wreak she ow'd her Son; I fear her honour.
    That he was sav'd, much joyes me, and grieve only
    That she was his preserver. I'le try further,
    And by this Engine, find whether the tears,
    Of which she is so prodigal, are for me,
    Or us'd to cloak her base hypocrisie.        [_Exit._

    _Enter_ Hippolyta _and_ Sulpitia.

    _Hip._ Are you assur'd the charm prevails?

    _Sulp._ Do I live?
    Or do you speak to me? Now this very instant
    Health takes its last leave of her; meager paleness
    Like winter, nips the Roses and the Lilies,
    The Spring that youth, and love adorn'd her face with.
    To force affection, is beyond our art,
    For I have prov'd all means that hell has taught me,
    Or the malice of a woman, which exceeds it,
    To change _Arnoldo's_ love, but to no purpose:
    But for your bond-woman--

    _Hip._ Let her pine and dye;
    She remov'd, which like a brighter Sun,
    Obscures my beams, I may shine out again,
    And as I have been, be admir'd and sought to:
    How long has she to live?

    _Sulp._ Lady, before
    The Sun twice rise and set, be confident,
    She is but dead; I know my Charm hath found her.
    Nor can the Governours Guard; her lovers tears;
    Her Fathers sorrow, or his power that freed her,
    Defend her from it.

    _Enter_ Zabulon.

    _Zab._ All things have succeeded,
    As you could wish; I saw her brought sick home;
    The image of pale death, stampt on her fore-head.
    Let me adore this second Hecate,
    This great Commandress, of the fatal Sisters,
    That as she pleases, can cut short, or lengthen
    The thread of life.

    _Hip._ Where was she when the inchantment
    First seis'd upon her?

    _Zab._ Taking the fresh air,
    In the company of the Governour, and Count _Clodio_,
    _Arnoldo_ too, was present with her Father,
    When, in a moment (so the servants told me)
    As she was giving thanks to the Governour,
    And _Clodio_, for her unexpected freedom,
    As if she had been blasted, she sunk down,
    To their amazement.

    _Hip._ 'Tis thy master-piece
    Which I will so reward, that thou shalt fix here,
    And with the hazard of thy life, no more
    Make tryal of thy powerful Art; which known
    Our Laws call death: off with this Magical Robe,
    And be thy self.

    _Enter_ Governour, Clodio, _and_ Charino.

    _Sulp._ Stand close, you shall hear more.

    _Man._ You must have patience; all rage is vain now,
    And piety forbids, that we should question
    What is decreed above, or ask a reason
    Why heaven determines this or that way of us.

    _Clod._ Heaven has no hand in't; 'tis a work of hell.
    Her life hath been so innocent, all her actions
    So free from the suspicion of crime,
    As rather she deserves a Saints place here,
    Than to endure, what now her sweetness suffers.

    _Char._ Not for her fault, but mine Sir, _Zenocia_ suffers:
    The sin I made, when I sought to rase down
    _Arnoldo's_ love, built on a Rock of truth,
    Now to the height is punish'd. I profess,
    Had he no birth, nor parts, the present sorrow
    He now expresses for her, does deserve her
    Above all Kings, though such had been his rivals.

    _Clod._ All ancient stories, of the love of Husbands
    To vertuous Wives, be now no more remembred.

    _Char._ The tales of _Turtles_, ever be forgotten,
    Or, for his sake believ'd.

    _Man._ I have heard, there has been
    Between some married pairs, such sympathy,
    That th' Husband has felt really the throws
    His Wife then teeming suffers, this true grief
    Confirms, 'tis not impossible.

    _Clod._ We shall find
    Fit time for this hereafter; let's use now
    All possible means to help her.

    _Man._ Care, nor cost,
    Nor what Physicians can do, shall be wanting;
    Make use of any means or men.

    _Char._ You are noble.
                              [_Exeunt_ Man. Clod, _and_ Char.

    _Sulp._ Ten Colledges of Doctors shall not save her.
    Her fate is in your hand.

    _Hip._ Can I restore her?

    _Sulp._ If you command my Art.

    _Hip._ I'le dye my self first.
    And yet I'le go visit her, and see
    This miracle of sorrow in _Arnoldo_:
    And 'twere for me, I should change places with her,
    And dye most happy, such a lovers tears
    Were a rich monument, but too good for her,
    Whose misery I glory in: come _Sulpitia_,
    You shall along with me, good _Zabulon_
    Be not far off.

    _Zab._ I will attend you Madam.       [_Exeunt._

    _Enter_ Duarte, _and a_ Servant.

    _Ser._ I have serv'd you from my youth, and ever
    You have found me faithful: that you live's a treasure
    I'le lock up here; nor shall it be let forth,
    But when you give me warrant.

    _Dua._ I rely
    Upon thy faith; nay, no more protestations,
    Too many of them will call that in question,
    Which now I doubt not: she is there?

    _Ser._ Alone too,
    But take it on my life, your entertainment,
    Appearing as you are, will be but course,
    For the displeasure I shall undergo
    I am prepar'd.

    _Dua._ Leave me, I'le stand the hazard.     [_Exit_ Servant.
    The silence that's observ'd, her close retirements,
    No visitants admitted, not the day;
    These sable colours, all signs of true sorrow,
    Or hers is deeply counterfeit. I'le look nearer,
    Manners give leave--she sits upon the ground;
    By heaven she weeps; my picture in her hand too;
    She kisses it and weeps again.

    _Enter_ Guiomar.

    _Gui._ Who's there?

    _Dua._ There is no starting back now Madam.

    _Gui._ Ha, another murderer! I'le not protect thee,
    Though I have no more Sons.

    _Dua._ Your pardon Lady,
    There's no such foul fact taints me.

    _Gui._ What makes thou here then?
    Where are my servants, do none but my sorrows
    Attend upon me? speak, what brought thee hither?

    _Dua._ A will to give you comfort.

    _Gui._ Thou art but a man.
    And 'tis beyond a humane reach to do it,
    If thou could raise the dead out of their graves,
    Bid time run back, make me now what I was,
    A happy Mother; gladly I would hear thee,
    But that's impossible.

    _Dua._ Please you but read this;
    You shall know better there, why I am sent,
    Than if I should deliver it.

    _Gui._ From whom comes it?

    _Dua._ That will instruct you. I suspect this stranger,
    Yet she spake something that holds such alliance
    With his reports; I know not what to think on't;
    What a frown was there? she looks me through, & through,
    Now reads again, now pauses, and now smiles;
    And yet there's more of anger in't than mirth,
    These are strange changes; oh I understand it,
    She's full of serious thoughts.

    _Gui._ You are just, you Heavens,
    And never do forget to hear their prayers,
    That truly pay their vows, the defer'd vengeance,
    For you, and my words sake so long defer'd,
    Under which as a mountain my heart groans yet
    When 'twas despair'd of, now is offer'd to me;
    And if I lose it, I am both wayes guilty.
    The womans mask, dissimulation help me.
    Come hither friend, I am sure you know the Gentleman,
    That sent these charms.

    _Dua._ Charms Lady?

    _Gui._ These charms;
    I well may call them so, they've won upon me,
    More than ere letter did; thou art his friend,
    (The confidence he has in thee, confirms it)
    And therefore I'le be open breasted to thee;
    To hear of him, though yet I never saw him,
    Was most desir'd of all men; let me blush,
    And then I'le say I love him.

    _Dua._ All men see,
    In this a womans vertue.

    _Gui._ I expected
    For the courtesie I did, long since to have seen him,
    And though I then forbad it, you men know,
    Between our hearts and tongues there's a large distance;
    But I'le excuse him, may be hitherto
    He has forborn it, in respect my Son
    Fell by his hand.

    _Dua._ And reason Lady.

    _Gui._ No, he did me a pleasure in't, a riotous fellow,
    And with that insolent, not worth the owning;
    I have indeed kept a long solemn sorrow,
    For my friends sake partly; but especially
    For his long absence.

    _Dua._ O the Devil.

    _Guio._ Therefore
    Bid him be speedy; a Priest shall be ready
    To tye the holy knot; this kiss I send him,
    Deliver that and bring him.

    _Dua._ I am dumb:
    A good cause I have now, and a good sword,
    And something I shall do, I wait upon you.     [_Exeunt._

    _Enter_ Manuel, Charino, Arnoldo, Zenocia, _born in a chair_. 2 Doctors,
    Clodio.

    _Doct._ Give her more air, she dyes else.

    _Arn._ O thou dread power,
    That mad'st this all, and of thy workmanship
    This virgin wife, the Master piece, look down on her;
    Let her minds virtues, cloth'd in this fair garment,
    That worthily deserves a better name
    Than flesh and bloud, now sue, and prevail for her.
    Or if those are denyed, let innocence,
    To which all passages in Heaven stand open,
    Appear in her white robe, before thy throne;
    And mediate for her: or if this age of sin
    Be worthy of a miracle, the Sun
    In his diurnal progress never saw
    So sweet a subject to imploy it on.

    _Man._ Wonders are ceas'd Sir, we must work by means.

    _Arno._ 'Tis true, and such reverend Physicians are;
    To you thus low I fall then; so may you ever
    Be stil'd the hands of Heaven, natures restorers;
    Get wealth and honours; and by your success,
    In all your undertakings, propagate
    Your great opinion in the world, as now
    You use your saving art; for know good Gentlemen,
    Besides the fame, and all that I possess,
    For a reward, posterity shall stand
    Indebted to you, for (as Heaven forbid it)
    Should my _Zenocia_ dye, robbing this age
    Of all that's good or gracefull, times succeeding,
    The story of her pure life not yet perfect,
    Will suffer in the want of her example.

    _Doct._ Were all the world to perish with her, we
    Can do no more, than what art and experience
    Give us assurance of, we have us'd all means
    To find the cause of her disease, yet cannot;
    How should we then, promise the cure?

    _Arn._ Away,
    I did bely you, when I charg'd you with
    The power of doing, ye are meer names only,
    And even your best perfection, accidental;
    What ever malady thou art, or Spirit,
    As some hold all diseases that afflict us,
    As love already makes me sensible
    Of half her sufferings, ease her of her part,
    And let me stand the butt of thy fell malice,
    And I will swear th'art mercifull.

    _Doct._ Your hand Lady;
    What a strange heat is here! bring some warm water.

    _Arn._ She shall use nothing that is yours; my sorrow
    Provides her of a better bath, my tears
    Shall do that office.

    _Zeno._ O my best _Arnoldo_!
    The truest of all lovers! I would live
    Were heaven so pleas'd, but to reward your sorrow
    With my true service; but since that's denied me,
    May you live long and happy: do not suffer
    (By your affection to me I conjure you)
    My sickness to infect you; though much love
    Makes you too subject to it.

    _Arn._ In this only

    _Zenocia_ wrongs her servant; can the body
    Subsist, the Soul departed? 'tis as easie
    As I to live without you; I am your husband,
    And long have been so, though our adverse fortune,
    Bandying us from one hazard to another,
    Would never grant me so much happiness,
    As to pay a husbands debt; despite of fortune,
    In death I'le follow you, and guard mine own;
    And there enjoy what here my fate forbids me.

    _Clod._ So true a sorrow, and so feelingly
    Exprest, I never read of.

    _Man._ I am struck
    With wonder to behold it, as with pity.

    _Char._ If you that are a stranger, suffer for them,
    Being tied no further than humanity
    Leads you to soft compassion; think great Sir,
    What of necessity I must endure,
    That am a Father?

    Hippolyta, Zabulon, _and_ Sulpitia _at the door._

    _Zab._  Wait me there, I hold it
    Unfit to have you seen; as I find cause,
    You shall proceed.

    _Man._ You are welcom Lady.

    _Hip._ Sir, I come to do a charitable office,
    How does the patient?

    _Clod._ You may enquire
    Of more than one; for two are sick, and deadly,
    He languishes in her, her health's despair'd of,
    And in hers, his.

    _Hip._ 'Tis a strange spectacle,
    With what a patience they sit unmov'd!
    Are they not dead already?

    _Doct._ By her pulse,
    She cannot last a day.

    _Arn._ Oh by that summons,
    I know my time too!

    _Hip._ Look to the man.

    _Clod._ Apply
    Your Art, to save the Lady, preserve her,
    A town is your reward.

    _Hip. I'le treble it,
    In ready gold, if you restore _Arnoldo_;
    For in his death I dye too.

    _Clod._ Without her
    I am no more.

    _Arn._ Are you there Madam? now
    You may feast on my miseries; my coldness
    In answering your affections, or hardness,
    Give it what name you please, you are reveng'd of,
    For now you may perceive, our thred of life
    Was spun together, and the poor _Arnoldo_
    Made only to enjoy the best _Zenocia_,
    And not to serve the use of any other;
    And in that she may equal; my Lord _Clodio_
    Had long since else enjoyed her, nor could I
    Have been so blind, as not to see your great
    And many excellencies far, far beyond
    Or my deservings, or my hopes; we are now
    Going our latest journey, and together,
    Our only comfort we desire, pray give it,
    Your charity to our ashes, such we must be,
    And not to curse our memories.

    _Hip._ I am much mov'd.

    _Clod._ I am wholly overcome, all love to women
    Farewell for ever; ere you dye, your pardon;
    And yours Sir; had she many years to live,
    Perhaps I might look on her, as a Brother,
    But as a lover never; and since all
    Your sad misfortunes had original
    From the barbarous Custom practis'd in my Country,
    Heaven witness, for your sake I here release it;
    So to your memory, chaste Wives and Virgins
    Shall ever pay their vowes. I give her to you;
    And wish, she were so now, as when my lust
    Forc'd you to quit the Country.

    _Hip._ It is in vain
    To strive with destiny, here my dotage ends,
    Look up _Zenocia_, health in me speaks to you;
    She gives him to you, that by divers ways,
    So long has kept him from you: and repent not,
    That you were once my servant, for which health
    In recompence of what I made you suffer,
    The hundred thousand Crowns, the City owes me,
    Shall be your dower.

    _Man._ 'Tis a magnificent gift,
    Had it been timely given.

    _Hip._ It is believe it, _Sulpitia_.

    _Enter a_ Servant, _and_ Sulpitia.

    _Sulp._ Madam.

    _Hip._ Quick, undoe the charm;
    Ask not a reason why; let it suffice,
    It is my will.

    _Sulp._ Which I obey and gladly.        [_Exit._

    _Man._ Is to be married, sayest thou?

    _Ser._ So she sayes Sir,
    And does desire your presence.     [_They are born off in chairs._

    _Man._ And tell her I'le come.

    _Hip._ Pray carry them to their rest; for though already,
    They do appear as dead, let my life pay for't,
    If they recover not.

    _Man._ What you have warranted,
    Assure your self, will be expected from you;
    Look to them carefully; and till the tryal,--

    _Hip._ Which shall not be above four hours.

    _Man._ Let me
    Intreat your companies: there is something
    Of weight invites me hence.

    _All._ We'll wait upon you.         [_Exeunt._

    _Enter_ Guiomar, _and_ Servants.

    _Guio._ You understand what my directions are,
    And what they guide you to; the faithfull promise
    You have made me all.

    _All._ We do and will perform it.

    _Guio._ The Governour will not fail to be here presently;
    Retire a while, till you shall find occasion,
    And bring me word, when they arrive.

    _All._ Wee shall Madam.

    _Guio._ Only stay you to entertain.

    _1 Ser._ I am ready.

    _Guio._ I wonder at the bold, and practis'd malice,
    Men ever have o' foot against our honours,
    That nothing we can do, never so vertuous,
    No shape put on so pious, no not think
    What a good is, be that good ne're so noble,
    Never so laden with admir'd example,
    But still we end in lust; our aims, our actions,
    Nay, even our charities, with lust are branded;
    Why should this stranger else, this wretched stranger,
    Whose life I sav'd at what dear price sticks here yet,
    Why should he hope? he was not here an hour,
    And certainly in that time, I may swear it
    I gave him no loose look, I had no reason;
    Unless my tears were flames, my curses courtships;
    The killing of my Son, a kindness to me.
    Why should he send to me, or with what safety
    (Examining the ruine he had wrought me)
    Though at that time, my pious pity found him,
    And my word fixt; I am troubled, strongly troubled.

    _Enter a_ Servant.

    _Ser._ The Gentlemen are come.

    _Guio._ Then bid 'em welcome--I must retire.     [_Exit._

    _Enter_ Rutilio, _and_ Duarte.

    _Ser._ You are welcom Gentlemen.

    _Rut._ I thank you friend, I would speak with your Lady.

    _Ser._ I'le let her understand.

    _Rut._ It shall befit you.
    How do I look Sir, in this handsome trim?     [_Exit_ Servant.
    Me thinks I am wondrous brave.

    _Duar._ You are very decent.

    _Rut._ These by themselves, without more helps of nature,
    Would set a woman hard; I know 'em all,
    And where their first aims light; I'le lay my head on't,
    I'le take her eye, as soon as she looks on me,
    And if I come to speak once, woe be to her,
    I have her in a nooze, she cannot scape me;
    I have their several lasts.

    _Dua._ You are throughly studied,
    But tell me Sir, being unacquainted with her,
    As you confess you are--

    _Rut._ That's not an hours work,
    I'le make a Nun forget her beads in two hours.

    _Dua._ She being set in years, next none of those lusters
    Appearing in her eye, that warm the fancy;
    Nor nothing in her face, but handsom ruines.

    _Rut._ I love old stories: those live believ'd, Authentique,
    When 20. of your modern faces are call'd in,
    For new opinion, paintings, and corruptions;
    Give me an old confirm'd face; besides she sav'd me,
    She sav'd my life, have I not cause to love her?
    She's rich and of a constant state, a fair one,
    Have I not cause to wooe her? I have tryed sufficient
    All your young Phillies, I think this back has try'd 'em,
    And smarted for it too: they run away with me,
    Take bitt between the teeth, and play the Devils;
    A staied pace now becomes my years; a sure one,
    Where I may sit and crack no girths.

    _Dua._ How miserable,
    If my Mother should confirm, what I suspect now,
    Beyond all humane cure were my condition!
    Then I shall wish, this body had been so too.
    Here comes the Lady Sir.

    _Enter_ Guiomar.

    _Rut._ Excellent Lady,
    To shew I am a creature, bound to your service,
    And only yours--

    _Guio._ Keep at that distance Sir;
    For if you stir--

    _Rut._ I am obedient.
    She has found already, I am for her turn;
    With what a greedy hawks eye she beholds me!
    Mark how she musters all my parts.

    _Guio._ A goodly Gentleman,
    Of a more manly set, I never look'd on.

    _Rut._ Mark, mark her eyes still; mark but the carriage of 'em.

    _Guio._ How happy am I now, since my Son fell,
    He fell not by a base unnoble hand!
    As that still troubled me; how far more happy
    Shall my revenge be, since the Sacrifice,
    I offer to his grave, shall be both worthy
    A Sons untimely loss, and a Mothers sorrow!

    _Rut._ Sir, I am made believe it; she is mine own,
    I told you what a spell I carried with me,
    All this time does she spend in contemplation
    Of that unmatch'd delight: I shall be thankfull to ye;
    And if you please to know my house, to use it;
    To take it for your own.

    _Guio._ Who waits without there?

    _Enter_ Guard, _and_ Servants, _they seize upon_ Rut. _and bind him._

    _Rut._ How now? what means this, Lady?

    _Guio._ Bind him fast.

    _Rut._ Are these the bride-laces you prepare for me?
    The colours that you give?

    _Dua._ Fye Gentle Lady,
    This is not noble dealing.

    _Guio._ Be you satisfied,
    I[t] seems you are a stranger to this meaning,
    You shall not be so long.

    _Rut._ Do you call this wooing--Is there no end of womens persecutions?
    Must I needs fool into mine own destruction?
    Have I not had fair warnings, and enough too?
    Still pick the Devils teeth? you are not mad Lady;
    Do I come fairly, and like a Gentleman,
    To offer you that honour?

    _Guio._ You are deceiv'd Sir,
    You come besotted, to your own destruction:
    I sent not for you; what honour can ye add to me,
    That brake that staff of honour, my age lean'd on?
    That rob'd me of that right, made me a Mother?
    Hear me thou wretched man, hear me with terrour,
    And let thine own bold folly shake thy Soul,
    Hear me pronounce thy death, that now hangs o're thee,
    Thou desperate fool; who bad thee seek this ruine?
    What mad unmanly fate, made thee discover
    Thy cursed face to me again? was't not enough
    To have the fair protection of my house,
    When misery and justice close pursued thee?
    When thine own bloudy sword, cryed out against thee,
    Hatcht in the life of him? yet I forgave thee.
    My hospitable word, even when I saw
    The goodliest branch of all my blood lopt from me,
    Did I not seal still to thee?

    _Rut._ I am gone.

    _Guio._ And when thou went'st, to Imp thy miserie,
    Did I not give thee means? but hark ungratefull,
    Was it not thus? to hide thy face and fly me?
    To keep thy name for ever from my memory?
    Thy cursed blood and kindred? did I not swear then,
    If ever, (in this wretched life thou hast left me,
    Short and unfortunate,) I saw thee again,
    Or came but to the knowledge, where thou wandredst,
    To call my vow back, and pursue with vengeance
    With all the miseries a Mother suffers?

    _Rut._ I was born to be hang'd, there's no avoiding it.

    _Guio._ And dar'st thou with this impudence appear here?
    Walk like the winding sheet my Son was put in,
    Stand with those wounds?

    _Dua._ I am happy now again;
    Happy the hour I fell, to find a Mother,
    So pious, good, and excellent in sorrows.

    _Enter a_ Servant.

    _Ser._ The Governour's come in.

    _Guio._ O let him enter.

    _Rut._ I have fool'd my self a fair thred of all my fortunes,
    This strikes me most; not that I fear to perish,
    But that this unmannerly boldness has brought me to it.

    _Enter_ Governour, Clodio, Charino.

    _Gov._ Are these fit preparations for a wedding Lady?
    I came prepar'd a guest.

    _Guio._ O give me justice;
    As ever you will leave a vertuous name,
    Do justice, justice, Sir.

    _Gove._ You need not ask it,
    I am bound to it.

    _Guio._ Justice upon this man
    That kill'd my Son.

    _Gove._ Do you confess the act?

    _Rut._ Yes Sir.

    _Clod._ _Rutilio_?

    _Char._ 'Tis the same.

    _Clod._ How fell he thus?
    Here will be sorrow for the good _Arnoldo_.

    _Gove._ Take heed Sir what you say.

    _Rut._ I have weigh'd it well,
    I am the man, nor is it life I start at;
    Only I am unhappy I am poor,
    Poor in expence of lives, there I am wretched,
    That I have not two lives lent me for his sacrifice;
    One for her Son, another for her sorrows.
    Excellent Lady, now rejoyce again,
    For though I cannot think, y'are pleas'd in blood,
    Nor with that greedy thirst pursue your vengeance;
    The tenderness, even in those tears denies that;
    Yet let the world believe, you lov'd _Duarte_;
    The unmatcht courtesies you have done my miseries;
    Without this forfeit to the law, would charge me
    To tender you this life, and proud 'twould please you.

    _Guio._ Shall I have justice?

    _Gover._ Yes.

    _Rut._ I'le ask it for ye,
    I'le follow it my self, against my self.
    Sir, 'Tis most fit I dye; dispatch it quickly,
    The monstrous burthen of that grief she labours with
    Will kill her else, then blood on blood lyes on me;
    Had I a thousand lives, I'd give 'em all,
    Before I would draw one tear more from that vertue.

    _Guio._ Be not too cruel Sir, and yet his bold sword--
    But his life cannot restore that, he's a man too--
    Of a fair promise, but alas my Son's dead;
    If I have justice, must it kill him?

    _Gov._ Yes.

    _Guio._ If I have not, it kills me, strong and goodly!
    Why should he perish too?

    _Gover._ It lies in your power,
    You only may accuse him, or may quit him.

    _Clod._ Be there no other witnesses?

    _Guio._ Not any.
    And if I save him, will not the world proclaim,
    I have forgot a Son, to save a murderer?
    And yet he looks not like one, he looks manly.

    _Hip._ Pity so brave a Gentleman should perish.
    She cannot be so hard, so cruel hearted.

    _Guio._ Will you pronounce? yet stay a little Sir.

    _Rut._ Rid your self, Lady, of this misery;
    And let me go, I do but breed more tempests,
    With which you are already too much shaken.

    _Guio._ Do now, pronounce; I will not hear.

    _Dua._ You shall not,
    Yet turn and see good Madam.

    _Gove._ Do not wonder.
    'Tis he, restor'd again, thank the good Doctor,
    Pray do not stand amaz'd, it is _Duarte_;
    Is well, is safe again.

    _Guio._ O my sweet Son,
    I will not press my wonder now with questions--
    Sir, I am sorry for that cruelty,
    I urg'd against you.

    _Rut._ Madam, it was but justice.

    _Dua._ 'Tis [t]rue, the Doctor heal'd this body again,
    But this man heal'd my soul, made my minde perfect,
    The good sharp lessons his sword read to me, sav'd me;
    For which, if you lov'd me, dear Mother,
    Honour and love this man.

    _Guio._ You sent this letter?

    _Rut._ My boldness makes me blush now.

    _Guio._ I'le wipe off that,
    And with this kiss, I take you for my husband,
    Your wooing's done Sir; I believe you love me,
    And that's the wealth I look for now.

    _Rut._ You have it.

    _Dua._ You have ended my desire to all my wishes.

    _Gov._ Now 'tis a wedding again. And if _Hippolyta_
    Make good, what with the hazard of her life,
    She undertook, the evening will set clear

    _Enter_ Hippolyta, _leading_ Leopold, Arnoldo, Zenocia, _in either hand_,
    Zabulon, Sulpitia.

    After a stormy day.

    _Char._ Here comes the Lady.

    _Clod._ With fair _Zenocia_,
    Health with life again
    Restor'd unto her.

    _Zen._ The gift of her goodness.

    _Rut._ Let us embrace, I am of your order too,
    And though I once despair'd of women, now
    I find they relish much of Scorpions,
    For both have stings, and both can hurt, and cure too;
    But what have been your fortunes?

    _Arn._ Wee'l defer
    Our story, and at time more fit, relate it.
    Now all that reverence vertue, and in that
    _Zenocias_ constancy, and perfect love,
    Or for her sake _Arnoldo_, join with us
    In th' honour of this Lady.

    _Char._ She deserves it.

    _Hip._ _Hippolytas_ life shall make that good hereafter,
    Nor will I alone better my self but others:
    For these whose wants perhaps have made their actions
    Not altogether innocent, shall from me
    Be so supplied, that need shall not compel them,
    To any course of life, but what the law
    Shall give allowance to.

    _Zab._ _Sulpitia_, Your Ladiships creatures.

    _Rut._ Be so, and no more you man-huckster.

    _Hip._ And worthy _Leopold_, you that with such fervour,
    So long have sought me, and in that deserv'd me,
    Shall now find full reward for all your travels,
    Which you have made more dear by patient sufferance.
    And though my violent dotage did transport me,
    Beyond those bounds, my modesty should have kept in,
    Though my desires were loose, from unchast art
    Heaven knows I am free.

    _Leop._ The thought of that's dead to me;
    I gladly take your offer.

    _Rut._ Do so Sir,
    A piece of crackt gold ever will weigh down
    Silver that's whole.

    _Gov._ You shall be all my guests,
    I must not be denyed.

    _Arn._ Come my _Zenocia_.
    Our bark at length has found a quiet harbour;
    And the unspotted progress of our loves
    Ends not alone in safety, but reward,
    To instruct others, by our fair example;
    That though good purposes are long withstood,
    The hand of Heaven still guides such as are good.

                [_Ex. omnes._

           *       *       *       *       *



    The Prologue.

    _So free this work is, Gentlemen, from offence,
    That we are confident, it needs no defence
    From us, or from the Poets--we dare look
    On any man, that brings his Table-book
    To write down, what again he may repeat
    At some great Table, to deserve his meat.
    Let such come swell'd with malice, to apply
    What is mirth here, there for an injurie.
    Nor Lord, nor Lady we have tax'd; nor State,
    Nor any private person, their poor hate
    Will be starved here, for envy shall not finde
    One touch that may be wrested to her minde.
    And yet despair not, Gentlemen, The play
    Is quick and witty; so the Poets say,
    And we believe them; the plot neat, and new,
    Fashion'd like those, that are approv'd by you.
    Only 'twill crave attention, in the most;
    Because one point unmarked, the whole is lost.
    Hear first then, and judge after, and be free,
    And as our cause is, let our censure be._
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    The Prologue.

    _So free this work is, Gentlemen, from offence,
    That we are confident, it needs no defence
    From us, or from the Poets--we dare look
    On any man, that brings his Table-book
    To write down, what again he may repeat
    At some great Table, to deserve his meat.
    Let such come swell'd with malice, to apply
    What is mirth here, there for an injurie.
    Nor Lord, nor Lady we have tax'd; nor State,
    Nor any private person, their poor hate
    Will be starved here, for envy shall not finde
    One touch that may be wrested to her minde.
    And yet despair not, Gentlemen, The play
    Is quick and witty; so the Poets say,
    And we believe them; the plot neat, and new,
    Fashion'd like those, that are approv'd by you.
    Only 'twill crave attention, in the most;
    Because one point unmarked, the whole is lost.
    Hear first then, and judge after, and be free,
    And as our cause is, let our censure be._




    Epilogue.


    _Why there should be an Epilogue to a play,
    I know no cause: the old and usuall way,
    For which they were made, was to entreat the grace
    Of such as were spectators in this place,
    And time, 'tis to no purpose; for I know
    What you resolve already to bestow,
    Will not be alter'd, what so e're I say,
    In the behalf of us, and of the Play;
    Only to quit our doubts, if you think fit,
    You may, or cry it up, or silence it._




    Another Prologue for the Custom of the Country.

    _We wish, if it were possible, you knew
      What we would give for this nights look, if new.
    It being our ambition to delight
      Our kind spectators with what's good, and right.
    Yet so far know, and credit me, 'twas made
      By such, as were held work-men in their Trade,
    At a time too, when they as I divine,
      Were truly merrie, and drank lusty wine,
    The nectar of the Muses; Some are here
      I dare presume, to whom it did appear
    A well-drawn piece, which gave a lawfull birth
      To passionate Scenes mixt with no vulgar mirth.
    But unto such to whom 'tis known by fame
      From others, perhaps only by the name,
    I am a suitor, that they would prepare
      Sound palats, and then judge their bill of fare.
    It were injustice to decry this now
      For being like'd before, you may allow
    (Your candor safe) what's taught in the old schools,
      All such as liv'd before you, were not fools._


    The Epilogue.

    _I spake much in the Prologue for the Play,
      To its desert I hope, yet you might say
    Should I change now from that, which then was meant,
      Or in a syllable grow less confident,
    I were weak-hearted. I am still the same
      In my opinion, and forbear to frame
    Qualification, or excuse: If you
      Concur with me, and hold my judgement true,
    Shew it with any sign, and from this place,
      Or send me off exploded, or with grace._
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    Variety is the spice of life

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    The Humorous Lieutenant,

    A Tragi-Comedy





    Persons Represented in the Play.


    _King_ Antigonus, _an old Man with young desires._

    Demetrius, _Son to_ Antigonus, _in love with_ Celia.

    Seleucus, Lysimachus, Ptolomie, _Three Kings equal sharers with_
    Antigonus _of what_ Alexander _had, with united powers opposing_
    Antigonus.

    Leontius, _a brave old merry Souldier, assistant_ to Demetrius.

    Timon, Charinthus, Menippus, _Servants to_ Antigonus, _and his vices._

    _The_ Humourous Lieutenant.

    _Gentlemen, Friends and followers of_ Demetrius.

    _3 Embassadors, from the three Kings.

    Gentlemen-Ushers._

    _Grooms._

    _Citizens._

    _Physicians._

    _Herald._

    _Magician._

    _Souldiers._

    _Host._


    Women

    Celia _alias_ E[n]anthe, _Daughter to_ Seleucus, _Mistris to_ Demetrius.

    Leucippe, _a Bawd, Agent for the King's lust._

    _Ladies._

    _Citizens Wives._

    _Governesse to_ Celia.

    _A Country-Woman._

    Phoebe, _her Daughter._

    _2 Servants of the game._


    _The Scene  Greece.
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    Variety is the spice of life

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    Actus Primus. Scena Prima.


    _Enter_ 2 Ushers, _and_ Grooms _with perfumes._

    _1 Usher_. Round, round, perfume it round, quick, look ye
    Diligently the state be right, are these the richest
    Cushions? Fie, fie, who waits i'th' wardrobe?

    _2 Ush_. But pray tell me, do you think for certain
    These Embassadours shall have this morning audience?

    _1 Ush_. They shall have it: Lord that you live at Court
    And understand not! I tell you they must have it.

    _2 Ush_. Upon what necessity?

    _1 Ush_. Still you are out of the trick of Court, sell your place,

    _Enter_ Ladies _and_ Gentlemen.

    And sow your grounds, you are not for this tillage.
    Madams, the best way is the upper lodgings,
    There you may see at ease.

    _Ladies_. We thank you, Sir.     [_Ex._ Ladies, Gent.

    _1 Ush._ Would you have all these slighted? who should report then,
    The Embassadors were handsome men? his beard
    A neat one? the fire of his eyes quicker than lightning,
    And when it breaks, as blasting? his legs, though little ones,
    Yet movers of a mass of understanding?
    Who shall commend their Cloaths? who shall take notice
    Of the most wise behaviour of their Feathers?
    Ye live a raw man here.

    _2 Ush._ I think I do so.

    _Enter 2 citizens, and Wives._

    _1 Ush._ Why, whither would ye all press?

    _1 Cit._ Good Master Usher.

    _2 Cit._ My wife, and some few of my honest neighbours, here.

    _1 Ush._ Prethee begone thou and thy honest Neighbours,
    Thou lookst like an Ass, why, whither would you fish face?

    _2 Cit._ If I might have
    But the honour to see you at my poor house, Sir,
    A Capon bridled and sadled, I'le assure your worship,
    A shoulder of Mutton and a pottle of Wine, Sir,
    I know your Brother, he was like ye,
    And shot the best at Buts--

    _1 Ush._ A ---- upon thee.

    _2 Cit._ Some Musick I'le assure you too,
    My toy, Sir, can play o'th' Virginals.

    _1 Ush._ Prethee good toy,
    Take away thy shoulder of Mutton, it is flie-blown,
    And shoulder take thy flap along, here's no place for ye;
    Nay then you had best be knock'd.     [_Ex. Cit._

    _Enter_ Celia.

    _Cel._ I wou'd fain see him,
    The glory of this place makes me remember,
    But dye those thoughts, dye all but my desires,
    Even those to death are sick too; he's not here,
    Nor how my eyes may guide me--

    _1 Ush._ What's your business?
    Who keeps the outward door there? here's fine shuffling,
    You wastcoateer you must go back.

    _Cel._ There is not,
    There cannot be, six days and never see me?
    There must not be desire; Sir, do you think
    That if you had a Mistris--

    _1 Ush._ Death, she is mad.

    _Cel_. And were yourself an honest man? it cannot--

    _1 Ush._ What a Devil hast thou to do with me or my honesty?
    Will you be jogging, good nimble tongue,
    My fellow door-keeper.

    _2 Ush._ Prethee let her alone,

    _1 Ush._ The King is coming,
    And shall we have an agent from the Suburbs
    Come to crave audience too?

    _Cel._ Before I thought ye
    To have a little breeding, some tang of Gentry;
    But now I take ye plainly,
    Without the help of any perspective,
    For that ye cannot alter.

    _1 Ush._ What's that?

    _Cel._ An Ass, Sir, you bray as like one,
    And by my troth, me thinks as ye stand now,
    Considering who to kick next, you appear to me
    Just with that kind of gravity, and wisdom;
    Your place may bear the name of Gentleman,
    But if ever any of that butter stick to your bread--

    _2 Ush._ You must be modester.

    _Cel._ Let him use me nobler,
    And wear good Cloaths to do good Offices;
    They hang upon a fellow of his vertue,
    As though they hung on Gibbets.

    _2 Ush._ A perillous wench.

    _1 Ush._ Thrust her into a corner, I'le no more on her.

    _2 Ush._ You have enough, go pretty Maid, stand close,
    And use that little tongue, with a little more temper.

    _Cel._ I thank ye, Sir.

    _2 Ush._ When the show's past,
    I'le have ye into the Cellar, there we'll dine.
    A very pretty wench, a witty Rogue,
    And there we'll be as merry; can ye be merry?

    _Cel._ O very merry.

    _2 Ush._ Only our selves; this churlish fellow shall not know.

    _Cel._ By no means.

    _2 Ush._ And can you love a little?

    _Cel._ Love exceedingly:
    I have cause to love you, dear Sir.

    _2 Ush._ Then I'le carry ye,
    And shew you all the pictures, and the hangings,
    The Lodgings, Gardens, and the walks: and then, sweet,
    You shall tell me where you lye.

    _Cel._ Yes marry will I.

    _2 Ush._ And't shall go hard but I'le send ye a Venison Pasty,
    And bring a bottle of wine along.

    _1 Ush._ Make room there,

    _2 Ush._ Room there afore; stand close, the train is coming.

    _Enter King_ Antigonus, Timon, Charinthus, Menippus.

    _Cel._ Have I yet left a beauty to catch fools?
    Yet, yet, I see him not. O what a misery
    Is love, expected long, deluded longer!

    _Ant._ Conduct in the Embassadors.

    _1 Ush._ Make room there.

    _Ant._ They shall not wait long answer--     [_Flourish._

    _Cle._ Yet he comes not.

    _Enter_ 3 _Embassadors._

    Why are eyes set on these, and multitudes
    Follow to make these wonders? O good gods!
    What would these look like if my love were here?
    But I am fond, forgetful.

    _Ant._ Now your grievance,
    Speak short, and have as short dispatch.

    _1 Emb._ Then thus, Sir:
    In all our Royal Masters names, We tell you,
    Ye have done injustice, broke the bonds of concord,
    And from their equal shares, from _Alexander_
    Parted, and so possess'd, not like a Brother,
    But as an open Enemy, Ye have hedged in
    Whole Provinces, man'd and maintain'd these injuries;
    And daily with your sword (though they still honour ye)
    Make bloudy inroads, take Towns, and ruin Castles,
    And still their sufFerance feels the weight.

    _2 Em._ Think of that love, great Sir, that honor'd friendship
    Your self held with our Masters, think of that strength
    When you were all one body, all one mind;
    When all your swords struck one way, when your angers,
    Like so many brother Billows rose together,
    And curling up your foaming Crests, defied
    Even mighty Kings, and in their falls entomb'd 'em;
    O think of these; and you that have been Conquerours,
    That ever led your Fortunes open ey'd,
    Chain'd fast by confidence; you that fame courted,
    Now ye want Enemies and men to match ye,
    Let not your own Swords seek your ends to shame ye.

    _Enter_ Demetrius _with a Javelin, and Gentlemen._

    _3 Em._ Choose which you will, or Peace or War,
    We come prepar'd for either.

    _1 Ush._ Room for the Prince there.

    _Cel._ Was it the Prince they said? how my heart trembled!
    'Tis he indeed; what a sweet noble fierceness
    Dwells in his eyes! young _Meleager_ like,
    When he return'd from slaughter of the Boar,
    Crown'd with the loves and honours of the people,
    With all the gallant youth of _Greece_, he looks now,
    Who could deny him love?

    _Dem._ Hail Royal Father.

    _Ant._ Ye are welcome from your sport, Sir, do you see this Gent.
    You that bring Thunders in your mouths, and Earthquakes
    To shake and totter my designs? can you imagine
    (You men of poor and common apprehensions)
    While I admit this man, my Son, this nature
    That in one look carries more fire, and fierceness,
    Than all your Masters in their lives; dare I admit him,
    Admit him thus, even to my side, my bosom,
    When he is fit to rule, when all men cry him,
    And all hopes hang about his head; thus place him,
    His weapon hatched in bloud, all these attending
    When he shall make their fortunes, all as sudden
    In any expedition he shall point 'em,
    As arrows from a Tartars bow, and speeding,
    Dare I do this, and fear an enemy?
    Fear your great Master? yours? or yours?

    _Dem._ O _Hercules_!
    Who saies you do, Sir? Is there any thing
    In these mens faces, or their Masters actions,
    Able to work such wonders?

    _Cel._ Now he speaks:
    O I could dwell upon that tongue for ever.

    _Dem._ You call 'em Kings, they never wore those Royalties,
    Nor in the progress of their lives arriv'd yet
    At any thought of King: Imperial dignities,
    And powerful God-like actions, fit for Princes
    They can no more put on, and make 'em sit right,
    Than I can with this mortal hand hold Heaven:
    Poor petty men, nor have I yet forgot
    The chiefest honours time, and merit gave 'em:
    _Lisimachus_ your Master, at the best,
    His highest, and his hopeful'st Dignities
    Was but grand-master of the _Elephants_;
    _Seleuchus_ of the Treasure; and for _Ptolomey_,
    A thing not thought on then, scarce heard of yet,
    Some Master of Ammunition: and must these men--

    _Cel._ What a brave confidence flows from his spirit!
    O sweet young man!

    _Dem._ Must these, hold pace with us,
    And on the same file hang their memories?
    Must these examine what the wills of Kings are?
    Prescribe to their designs, and chain their actions
    To their restraints? be friends, and foes when they please?
    Send out their Thunders, and their menaces,
    As if the fate of mortal things were theirs?
    Go home good men, and tell your Masters from us,
    We do 'em too much honour to force from 'em
    Their barren Countries, ruin their vast Cities,
    And tell 'em out of love, we mean to leave 'em
    (Since they will needs be Kings) no more to tread on,
    Than they have able wits, and powers to manage,
    And so we shall befriend 'em. Ha! what does she there?

    _Emb._ This is your answer King?

    _Ant._ 'Tis like to prove so.

    _Dem._ Fie, sweet, what makes you here?

    _Cel._ Pray ye do not chide me.

    _Dem._ You do your self much wrong and me.
    I feel my fault which only was committed
    Through my dear love to you: I have not seen ye,
    And how can I live then? I have not spoke to ye--

    _Dem._ I know this week ye have not; I will redeem all.
    You are so tender now; think where you are, sweet.

    _Cel._ What other light have I left?

    _Dem._ Prethee _Celia_,
    Indeed I'le see you presently.

    _Cel._ I have done, Sir:
    You will not miss?

    _Dem._ By this, and this, I will not.

    _Cel._ 'Tis in your will and I must be obedient.

    _Dem._ No more of these assemblies.

    _Cel._ I am commanded.

    _1 Ush._ Room for the Lady there: Madam, my service--

    _1 Gent._ My Coach an't please you Lady.

    _2 Ush._ Room before there.

    _2 Gent._ The honour, Madam, but to wait upon you--
    My servants and my state.

    _Cel._ Lord, how they flock now!
    Before I was afraid they would have beat me;
    How these flies play i'th' Sun-shine! pray ye no services,
    Or if ye needs must play the Hobby-horses,
    Seek out some beauty that affects 'em: farewel,
    Nay pray ye spare: Gentlemen I am old enough
    To go alone at these years, without crutches.     [_Exit._

    _2 Ush._ Well I could curse now: but that will not help me,
    I made as sure account of this wench now, immediately,
    Do but consider how the Devil has crost me,
    Meat for my Master she cries, well--

    _3 Em._ Once more, Sir,
    We ask your resolutions: Peace or War yet?

    _Dem._ War, War, my noble Father.

    _1 Em._ Thus I fling it:
    And fair ey'd peace, farewel.

    _Ant._ You have your answer;
    Conduct out the Embassadours, and give 'em Convoyes.

    _Dem._ Tell your high hearted Masters, they shall not seek us,
    Nor cool i'th' field in expectation of us,
    We'l ease your men those marches: In their strengths,
    And full abilities of mind and courage,
    We'l find 'em out, and at their best trim buckle with 'em.

    _3 Em._ You will find so hot a Souldier's welcome, Sir,
    Your favour shall not freeze.

    _2 Em._ A forward Gentleman,
    Pity the Wars should bruise such hopes--

    _Ant._ Conduct em--     [_Ex._ Em.
    Now, for this preparation: where's _Leontius_?
    Call him in presently: for I mean in person Gentlemen
    My self, with my old fortune--

    _Dem._ Royal Sir:
    Thus low I beg this honour: fame already
    Hath every where rais'd Trophies to your glory,
    And conquest now grown old, and weak with following
    The weary marches and the bloody shocks
    You daily set her in: 'tis now scarce honour
    For you that never knew to fight, but conquer,
    To sparkle such poor people: the Royal Eagle
    When she hath tri'd [h]er young ones 'gainst the Sun,
    And found 'em right; next teacheth 'em to prey,
    How to command on wing, and check below her
    Even Birds of noble plume; I am your own, Sir,
    You have found my spirit, try it now, and teach it
    To stoop whole Kingdoms: leave a little for me:
    Let not your glory be so greedy, Sir,
    To eat up all my hopes; you gave me life,
    If to that life you add not what's more lasting
    A noble name, for man, you have made a shadow:
    Bless me this day: bid me go on, and lead,
    Bid me go on, no less fear'd, than _Antigonus_,
    And to my maiden sword, tye fast your fortune:
    I know 'twill fight it self then: dear Sir, honour me:
    Never fair Virgin long'd so.

    _Ant._ Rise, and command then,
    And be as fortunate, as I expect ye:
    I love that noble will; your young companions
    Bred up and foster'd with ye, I hope _Demetrius_,
    You will make souldiers too: they must not leave ye.

    _Enter_ Leontius.

    _2 Gent._ Never till life leave us, Sir.

    _Ant._ O _Leontius_,
    Here's work for you in hand.

    _Leon._ I am ev'n right glad, Sir.
    For by my troth, I am now grown old with idleness;
    I hear we shall abroad, Sir.

    _Ant._ Yes, and presently,
    But who think you commands now?

    _Leon._ Who commands, Sir?
    Methinks mine eye should guide me: can there be
    (If you your self will spare him so much honour)
    Any found out to lead before your Armies,
    So full of faith, and fire, as brave _Demetrius_?
    King _Philips_ Son, at his years was an old Souldier,
    'Tis time his Fortune be o' wing, high time, Sir,
    So many idle hours, as here he loyters,
    So many ever-living names he loses,
    I hope 'tis he.

    _Ant._ 'Tis he indeed, and nobly
    He shall set forward: draw you all those Garrisons
    Upon the frontiers as you pass: to those
    Joyn these in pay at home, our ancient souldiers,
    And as you go press all the Provinces.

    _Leo._ We shall not [need];
    Believe, this hopefull Gentleman
    Can want no swords, nor honest hearts to follow him,
    We shall be full, no fear Sir.

    _Ant._ You _Leontius_,
    Because you are an old and faithfull servant,
    And know the wars, with all his vantages,
    Be near to his instructions, lest his youth
    Lose valours best companion, staid discretion,
    Shew where to lead, to lodge, to charge with safetie;
    In execution not to break, nor scatter,
    But with a provident anger, follow nobly:
    Not covetous of blood, and death, but honour,
    Be ever near his watches; cheer his labours,
    And where his hope stands fair, provoke his valour;
    Love him, and think it no dishonour (my _Demetrius_)
    To wear this Jewel near thee; he is a tri'd one,
    And one that even in spight of time, that sunk him,
    And frosted up his strength, will yet stand by thee,
    And with the proudest of thine Enemies
    Exchange for bloud, and bravely: take his Counsel.

    _Leo._ Your grace hath made me young again, and wanton.

    _Ant._ She must be known and suddenly:
    Do ye know her?     [_to Minippus._

    _Gent. Char._ No, believe Sir.

    _Ant._ Did you observe her, _Timon_?

    _Tim_. I look'd on her,
    But what she is--

    _Ant_. I must have that found.
    Come in and take your leave.

    _Tim._ And some few Prayers along.

    _Dem._ I know my duty,     [_Exit_ Ant.
    You shall be half my Father.

    _Leo._ All your Servant:
    Come Gentlemen, you are resolv'd I am sure
    To see these wars.

    _1 Gent._ We dare not leave his fortunes,
    Though most assur'd death hung round about us.

    _Leo._.= That bargain's yet to make;
    Be not too hasty, when ye face the Enemie,
    Nor too ambitious to get honour instantly,
    But charge within your bounds, and keep close bodies,
    And you shall see what sport we'l make these mad-caps;
    You shall have game enough, I warrant ye,
    Every mans Cock shall fight.

    _Dem._ I must go see Sir:
    Brave Sir, as soon as I have taken leave,
    I'le meet you in the park;
    Draw the men thither,
    Wait you upon _Leontius_.

    _Gen._ We'l attend Sir.

    _Leo._ But I beseech your Grace, with speed; the sooner
    We are i'th' field.--

    _Dem._ You could not please me better.     [_Exit_.

    _Leo._ You never saw the wars yet?

    _Gent._ Not yet Colonel.

    _Leo._ These foolish Mistresses do so hang about ye,
    So whimper, and so hug, I know it Gentlemen,
    And so intice ye, now ye are i'th' bud;
    And that sweet tilting war, with eyes and kisses,
    Th' alarms of soft vows, and sighs, and fiddle faddles,
    Spoils all our trade: you must forget these knick knacks,
    A woman at some time of year, I grant ye
    She is necessarie; but make no business of her.
    How now Lieutenant?

    _Enter_ Lieutenant.

    _Lieu._ Oh Sir, as ill as ever;
    We shall have wars they say; they are mustring yonder:
    Would we were at it once: fie, how it plagues me.

    _Leo._ Here's one has served now under Captain _Cupid_,
    And crackt a Pike in's youth: you see what's come on't.

    _Lieu._ No, my disease will never prove so honourable.

    _Leo._ Why sure, thou hast the best pox.

    _Lieu._ If I have 'em,
    I am sure I got 'em in the best company;
    They are pox of thirty Coats.

    _Leo._ Thou hast mewed 'em finely:
    Here's a strange fellow now, and a brave fellow,
    If we may say so of a pocky fellow,
    (Which I believe we may) this poor Lieutenant;
    Whether he have the scratches, or the scabs,
    Or what a Devil it be, I'le say this for him,
    There fights no braver souldier under Sun, Gentlemen;
    Show him an Enemie, his pain's forgot straight;
    And where other men by beds and bathes have ease,
    And easie rules of Physick; set him in a danger,
    A danger, that's a fearfull one indeed,
    Ye rock him, and he will so play about ye,
    Let it be ten to one he ne'er comes off again,
    Ye have his heart: and then he works it bravely,
    And throughly bravely: not a pang remembre'd:
    I have seen him do such things, belief would shrink at.

    _Gent._ 'Tis strange he should do all this, and diseas'd so.

    _Leo._ I am sure 'tis true: Lieutenant, canst thou drink well?

    _Lieu._ Would I were drunk, dog-drunk, I might not feel this backward?

    _Gent._ I would take Physick.

    _Lieu._ But I would know my disease first.

    _Leon._ Why? it may be the Colique: canst thou blow

    _Lieu._ There's never a bag-pipe in the Kingdom better.

    _Gent._ Is't not a pleuresie?

    _Lieu._ 'Tis any thing
    That has the Devil, and death in't: will ye march Gentlemen?
    The Prince has taken leave.

    _Leo._ How know ye that?

    _Lieu._ I saw him leave the Court, dispatch his followers,
    And met him after in a by street: I think
    He has some wench, or such a toy, to lick over
    Before he go: would I had such another
    To draw this foolish pain down.

    _Leo._ Let's away Gentlemen,
    For sure the Prince will stay on us.

    _Gent._ We'l attend Sir.     [Exeunt.




    _SCENA II._


    _Enter_ Demetrius, _and_ Celia.

    _Cel_. Must ye needs go?

    _Dem_. Or stay with all dishonour.

    _Cel_. Are there not men enough to fight?

    _Dem_. Fie _Celia_.
    This ill becomes the noble love you bear me;
    Would you have your love a coward?

    _Cel_. No; believe Sir,
    I would have him fight, but not so far off from me.

    _Dem_. Wouldst have it thus? or thus?

    _Cel_. If that be fighting--

    _Dem_. Ye wanton fool: when I come home again
    I'le fight with thee, at thine own weapon _Celia_,
    And conquer thee too.

    _Cel_. That you have done already,
    You need no other Arms to me, but these Sir;
    But will you fight your self Sir?

    _Dem_. Thus deep in bloud wench,
    And through the thickest ranks of Pikes.

    _Cel_. Spur bravely
    Your firie Courser, beat the troops before ye,
    And cramb the mouth of death with executions.

    _Dem_. I would do more than these: But prethee tell me,
    Tell me my fair, where got'st thou this male Spirit?
    I wonder at thy mind.

    _Cel_. Were I a man then,
    You would wonder more.

    _Dem_. Sure thou wouldst prove a Souldier,
    And some great Leader.

    _Cel_. Sure I should do somewhat;
    And the first thing I did, I should grow envious,
    Extreamly envious of your youth, and honour.

    _Dem_. And fight against me?

    _Cel_. Ten to one, I should do it.

    _Dem_. Thou wouldst not hurt me?

    _Cel_. In this mind I am in
    I think I should be hardly brought to strike ye,
    Unless 'twere thus; but in my mans mind--

    _Dem_. What?

    _Cel_. I should be friends with you too,
    Now I think better.

    _Dem_. Ye are a tall Souldier:
    Here, take these, and these;
    This gold to furnish ye, and keep this bracelet;
    Why do you weep now?
    You a masculine Spirit?

    _Cel_. No, I confess, I am a fool, a woman:
    And ever when I part with you--

    _Dem_. You shall not,
    These tears are like prodigious signs, my sweet one,
    I shall come back, loaden with fame, to honour thee.

    _Cel_. I hope you shall:
    But then my dear _Demetrius_,
    When you stand Conquerour, and at your mercy
    All people bow, and all things wait your sentence;
    Say then your eye (surveying all your conquest)
    Finds out a beautie, even in sorrow excellent,
    A constant face, that in the midst of ruine
    With a forc'd smile, both scorns at fate, and fortune:
    Say you find such a one, so nobly fortified,
    And in her figure all the sweets of nature?

    _Dem_. Prethee,
    No more of this, I cannot find her.

    _Cel_. That shews as far beyond my wither'd beauty;
    And will run mad to love ye too.

    _Dem_. Do you fear me,
    And do you think, besides this face, this beauty,
    This heart, where all my hopes are lock'd--

    _Cel_. I dare not:
    No sure, I think ye honest; wondrous honest.
    Pray do not frown, I'le swear ye are.

    _Dem_. Ye may choose.

    _Cel_. But how long will ye be away?

    _Dem_. I know not.

    _Cel_. I know you are angry now: pray look upon me:
    I'le ask no more such questions.

    _Dem_. The Drums beat,
    I can no longer stay.

    _Cel_. They do but call yet:
    How fain you would leave my Company?

    _Dem_. I wou'd not,
    Unless a greater power than love commanded,
    Commands my life, mine honour.

    _Cel_. But a little.

    _Dem_. Prethee farewel, and be not doubtfull of me.

    _Cel_. I would not have ye hurt: and ye are so ventrous--
    But good sweet Prince preserve your self, fight nobly,
    But do not thrust this body, 'tis not yours now,
    'Tis mine, 'tis only mine: do not seek wounds, Sir,
    For every drop of blood you bleed--

    _Dem_. I will _Celia_,
    I will be carefull.

    _Cel_. My heart, that loves ye dearly.

    _Dem_. Prethee no more, we must part:      [_Drums a March._
    Hark, they march now.

    _Cel_. Pox on these bawling Drums: I am sure you'l kiss me,
    But one kiss? what a parting's this?

    _Dem_. Here take me,
    And do what thou wilt with me, smother me;
    But still remember, if your fooling with me,
    Make me forget the trust--

    _Cel_. I have done: farewel Sir,
    Never look back, you shall not stay, not a minute.

    _Dem_. I must have one farewel more.

    _Cel_. No, the Drums beat;
    I dare not slack your honour; not a hand more,
    Only this look; the gods preserve, and save ye.
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    Actus Secundus. Scena Prima.


    _Enter_ Antigonus, Carinthus, Timon.

    _Ant_. What, have ye found her out?

    _Char_. We have hearkned after her.

    _Ant_. What's that to my desire?

    _Char_. Your grace must give us time,
    And a little means.

    _Tim_. She is sure a stranger,
    If she were bred or known here--

    _Ant_. Your dull endeavours     _Enter_ Menippus.
    Should never be employ'd. Welcom _Menippus_.

    _Men_. I have found her Sir,
    I mean the place she is lodg'd in; her name is _Celia_,
    And much adoe I had to purchase that too.

    _Ant_. Dost think _Demetrius_ loves her?

    _Men_. Much I fear it,
    But nothing that way yet can win for certain.
    I'le tell your grace within this hour.

    _Ant_. A stranger?

    _Men_. Without all doubt.

    _Ant_. But how should he come to her?

    _Men_. There lies the marrow of the matter hid yet.

    _Ant_. Hast thou been with thy wife?

    _Men_. No Sir, I am going to her.

    _Ant_. Go and dispatch, and meet me in the garden,
    And get all out ye can.                         [_Exit._

    _Men_. I'le doe my best Sir.                    [_Exit._

    _Tim._ Blest be thy wife, thou wert an arrant ass else.

    _Char_. I, she is a stirring woman indeed:
    There's a brain Brother.

    _Tim_. There's not a handsom wench of any mettle
    Within an hundred miles, but her intelligence
    Reaches her, and out-reaches her, and brings her
    As confidently to Court, as to a sanctuary:
    What had his mouldy brains ever arriv'd at,
    Had not she beaten it out o'th' Flint to fasten him?
    They say she keeps an office of Concealments:
    There is no young wench, let her be a Saint,
    Unless she live i'th' Center, but she finds her,
    And every way prepares addresses to her:
    If my wife would have followed her course _Charinthus_,
    Her lucky course, I had the day before him:
    O what might I have been by this time, Brother?
    But she (forsooth) when I put these things to her,
    These things of honest thrift, groans, O my conscience,
    The load upon my conscience, when to make us cuckolds,
    They have no more burthen than a brood-[goose], Brother;
    But let's doe what we can, though this wench fail us,
    Another of a new way will be lookt at:
    Come, let's abroad, and beat our brains, time may
    For all his wisdom, yet give us a day.      [_Exeunt_.




    Scena II.

    Drum _within, Alarm, Enter_ Demetrius, _and_ Leontius.


    _Dem_. I will not see 'em fall thus, give me way Sir,
    I shall forget you love me else.

    _Leo_. Will ye lose all?
    For me to be forgotten, to be hated,
    Nay never to have been a man, is nothing,
    So you, and those we have preserv'd from slaughter
    Come safely off.

    _Dem_. I have lost my self.

    _Leo_. You are cozen'd.

    _Dem_. And am most miserable.

    _Leo_. There's no man so, but he that makes himself so.

    _Dem_. I will goe on.

    _Leo_. You must not: I shall tell you then,
    And tell you true, that man's unfit to govern,
    That cannot guide himself: you lead an Army?
    That have not so much manly suff'rance left ye,
    To bear a loss?

    _Dem_. Charge but once more _Leontius_,
    My friends and my companions are engag'd all.

    _Leo_. Nay give 'em lost, I saw 'em off their horses,
    And the enemy master of their Arms; nor could then
    The policie, nor strength of man redeem 'em.

    _Dem_. And shall I know this, and stand fooling?

    _Leo_. By my dead Fathers soul you stir not, Sir,
    Or if you doe, you make your way through me first.

    _Dem_. Thou art a Coward.

    _Leo_. To prevent a Madman.
    None but your Fathers Son, durst call me so,
    'Death if he did--Must I be scandal'd by ye,
    That hedg'd in all the helps I had to save ye?
    That, where there was a valiant weapon stirring,
    Both search'd it out, and singl'd it, unedg'd it,
    For fear it should bite you, am I a coward?
    Go, get ye up, and tell 'em ye are the Kings Son;
    Hang all your Ladys favours on your Crest,
    And let them fight their shares; spur to destruction,
    You cannot miss the way: be bravely desperate,
    And your young friends before ye, that lost this battel,
    Your honourable friends, that knew no order,
    Cry out, _Antigonus_, the old _Antigonus_,
    The wise and fortunate _Antigonus_,
    The great, the valiant, and the fear'd _Antigonus_,
    Has sent a desperate son, without discretion
    To bury in an hour his age of honour.

    _Dem_. I am ashamed.

    _Leo_. 'Tis ten to one, I die with ye:
    The coward will not long be after ye;
    I scorn to say I saw you fall, sigh for ye,
    And tell a whining tale, some ten years after
    To boyes and girles in an old chimney corner,
    Of what a Prince we had, how bravely spirited;
    How young and fair he fell: we'l all go with ye,
    And ye shall see us all, like sacrifices
    In our best trim, fill up the mouth of ruine.
    Will this faith satisfie your folly? can this show ye
    'Tis not to die we fear, but to die poorly,
    To fall, forgotten, in a multitude?
    If you will needs tempt fortune now she has held ye,
    Held ye from sinking up.

    _Dem_. Pray do not kill me,
    These words pierce deeper than the wounds I suffer,
    The smarting wounds of loss.

    _Leo_. Ye are too tender;
    Fortune has hours of loss, and hours of honour,
    And the most valiant feel them both: take comfort,
    The next is ours, I have a soul descries it:
    The angry bull never goes back for breath
    But when he means to arm his fury double.
    Let this day set, but not the memorie,
    And we shall find a time: How now Lieutenant?

    _Enter_ Lieutenant.

    _Lieu_. I know not: I am mall'd: we are bravely beaten,
    All our young gallants lost.

    _Leo_. Thou art hurt.

    _Lieu_. I am pepper'd,
    I was i'th' midst of all: and bang'd of all hands:
    They made an anvile of my head, it rings yet;
    Never so thresh'd: do you call this fame? I have fam'd it;
    I have got immortal fame, but I'le no more on't;
    I'le no such scratching Saint to serve hereafter;
    O' my conscience I was kill'd above twenty times,
    And yet I know not what a Devil's in't,
    I crawled away, and lived again still; I am hurt plaguily,
    But now I have nothing near so much pain Colonel,
    They have sliced me for that maladie.

    _Dem_. All the young men lost?

    _Lie_. I am glad you are here: but they are all i'th' pound sir,
    They'l never ride o're other mens corn again, I take it,
    Such frisking, and such flaunting with their feathers,
    And such careering with their Mistres favours;
    And here must he be pricking out for honour,
    And there got he a knock, and down goes pilgarlick,
    Commends his soul to his she-saint, and _Exit_.
    Another spurs in there, cryes make room villains,
    I am a Lord, scarce spoken, but with reverence
    A Rascal takes him o're the face, and fells him;
    There lyes the Lord, the Lord be with him.

    _Leo_. Now Sir,
    Do you find this truth?

    _Dem_. I would not.

    _Lieu_. Pox upon it,
    They have such tender bodies too; such Culisses,
    That one good handsom blow breaks 'em a pieces.

    _Leo_. How stands the Enemy?

    _Lieu_. Even cool enough too:
    For to say truth he has been shrewdly heated,
    The Gentleman no doubt will fall to his jewlips.

    _Leo_. He marches not i'th' tail on's.

    _Lieu_. No, plague take him,
    He'l kiss our tails as soon; he looks upon us,
    As if he would say, if ye will turn again, friends,
    We will belabor you a little better,
    And beat a little more care into your coxcombs.
    Now shall we have damnable Ballads out against us,
    Most wicked madrigals: and ten to one, Colonel,
    Sung to such lowsie, lamentable tunes.

    _Leo_. Thou art merry,
    How e're the game goes: good Sir be not troubled,
    A better day will draw this back again.
    Pray go, and cheer those left, and lead 'em off,
    They are hot, and weary.

    _Dem_. I'le doe any thing.

    _Leo_. Lieutenant, send one presently away
    To th' King, and let him know our state: and hark ye,
    Be sure the messenger advise his Majestie
    To comfort up the Prince: he's full of sadness.

    _Lieu_. When shall I get a Surgeon? this hot weather,
    Unless I be well pepper'd, I shall stink, Colonel.

    _Leo_. Go, I'le prepare thee one.

    _Lieu_. If ye catch me then,
    Fighting again, I'le eat hay with a horse.     [_Exit_.




    Scena III.


    _Enter_ Leucippe _(reading) and two Maids at a Table writing._

    _Leu_. Have ye written to _Merione_?

    _1 Ma_. Yes, Madam.

    _Leu_. And let her understand the hopes she has,
    If she come speedilie--

    _1 Ma_. All these are specified.

    _Leu_. And of the chain is sent her,
    And the rich stuff to make her shew more handsom here?

    _1 Maid_. All this is done, Madam.

    _Leu_. What have you dispatcht there?

    _2 Maid_. A letter to the Country maid, and't please ye.

    _Leu_. A pretty girle, but peevish, plaguy peevish:
    Have ye bought the embroydered gloves, and that purse for her,
    And the new Curle?

    _2 Maid_. They are ready packt up Madam.

    _Leu_. Her maiden-head will yield me; let me see now;
    She is not fifteen they say: for her complexion--
    _Cloe, Cloe, Cloe,_ here, I have her,
    _Cloe_, the Daughter of a Country Gentleman;
    Her age upon fifteen: now her complexion,
    A lovely brown; here 'tis; eyes black and rolling,
    The body neatly built: she strikes a Lute well,
    Sings most inticingly, these helps consider'd,
    Her maiden-head will amount to some three hundred,
    Or three hundred and fifty Crowns, 'twill bear it handsomly.
    Her Father's poor, some little share deducted,
    To buy him a hunting Nag; I, 'twill be pretty.
    Who takes care of the Merchants Wife?

    _1 Ma_. I have wrought her.

    _Leu_. You know for whom she is?

    _1 Ma_. Very well, Madam,
    Though very much ado I had to make her
    Apprehend that happiness.

    _Leu_. These Kind are subtile;
    Did she not cry and blubber when you urg'd her?

    _1 Ma_. O most extreamly, and swore she would rather perish.

    _Leu_. Good signs, very good signs,
    Symptoms of easie nature.
    Had she the Plate?

    _1 Ma_. She lookt upon't, and left it,
    And turn'd again, and view'd it.

    _Leu_. Very well still.

    _1 Ma_. At length she was content to let it lye there,
    Till I call'd for't, or so.

    _Leu_. She will come?

    _1 Ma_. Do you take me
    For such a Fool, I would part without that promise?

    _Leu_. The Chamber's next the Park.

    _1 Ma_. The Widow, Madam,
    You bad me look upon.

    _Leu_. Hang her, she is musty:
    She is no mans meat; besides, she's poor and sluttish:
    Where lyes old _Thisbe_ now, you are so long now--

    _2 Ma_. _Thisbe, Thisbe, Thisbe,_ agent _Thisbe_, O I have her,
    She lyes now in _Nicopolis_.

    _Leu_. Dispatch a Packet,
    And tell her, her Superiour here commands her
    The next month not to fail, but see deliver'd
    Here to our use, some twenty young and handsom,
    As also able Maids, for the Court service,
    As she will answer it: we are out of beauty,
    Utterly out, and rub the time away here
    With such blown stuff, I am asham'd to send it.     [_Knock within_
    Who's that? look out, to your business, Maid,
    There's nothing got by idleness: there is a Lady,
    Which if I can but buckle with, _Altea_,
    _A, A, A, A, Altea_ young, and married,
    And a great lover of her husband, well,
    Not to be brought to Court! say ye so? I am sorry,
    The Court shall be brought to you then; how now, who is't?

    _1 Ma_. An ancient woman, with a maid attending,
    A pretty Girl, but out of Cloaths; for a little money,
    It seems she would put her to your bringing up, Madam.

    _Enter_ Woman _and_ Phebe.

    _Leu_. Let her come in. Would you ought with us, good woman?
    I pray be short, we are full of business.

    _Wo_. I have a tender Girl here, an't please your honour.

    _Leu_. Very well.

    _Wom_. That hath a great desire to serve your worship.

    _Leu_. It may be so; I am full of Maids.

    _Wom_. She is young forsooth--
    And for her truth; and as they say her bearing.

    _Leu_. Ye say well; come ye hither maid, let me feel your pulse,
    'Tis somewhat weak, but Nature will grow stronger,
    Let me see your leg, she treads but low i'th' Pasterns.

    _Wom_. A cork Heel, Madam.

    _Leu_, We know what will do it,
    Without your aim, good woman; what do you pitch her at?
    She's but a slight toy--cannot hold out long.

    _Wom_. Even what you think is meet.

    _Leu_. Give her ten Crowns, we are full of business,
    She is a poor Woman, let her take a Cheese home.
    Enter the wench i' th' Office.     [_Ex. Wom. and 1 Ma._

    _2 Ma_. What's your name, Sister?

    _Phe_. _Phebe_, forsooth.

    _Leu_. A pretty name; 'twill do well:
    Go in, and let the other Maid instruct you, _Phebe_.     [_Ex. Phe._
    Let my old Velvet skirt be made fit for her.
    I'll put her into action for a Wast-coat;
    And when I have rigg'd her up once, this small Pinnace
    Shall sail for Gold, and good store too; who's there?     [_Knock within_
    Lord, shall we never have any ease in this world!
    Still troubled! still molested! what would you have?   _Enter_ Menipp[us].
    I cannot furnish you faster than I am able,
    And ye were my Husband a thousand times, I cannot do it.
    At least a dozen posts are gone this morning
    For several parts of the Kingdom: I can do no more
    But pay 'em, and instruct 'em.

    _Men_. Prithee, good sweet heart,
    I come not to disturb thee, nor discourage thee,
    I know thou labour'st truly: hark in thine ear.

    _Leu_. Ha!
    What do you make so dainty on't? look there
    I am an Ass, I can do nothing.

    _Men_. _Celia_?
    I, this is she; a stranger born.

    _Leu_. What would you give for more now?


    _Men_. Prithee, my best _Leucippe_, there's much hangs on't,
    Lodg'd at the end of _Mars_'s street? that's true too;
    At the sack of such a Town, by such a Souldier
    Preserv'd a Prisoner: and by Prince _Demetrius_
    Bought from that man again, maintain'd and favour'd:
    How came you by this knowledg?

    _Leu_. Poor, weak man,
    I have a thousand eyes, when thou art sleeping,
    Abroad, and full of business.

    _Men_. You never try'd her?

    _Leu_. No, she is beyond my level; so hedg'd in
    By the Princes infinite Love and Favour to her--

    _Men_. She is a handsome Wench.

    _Leu_. A delicate, and knows it;
    And out of that proof arms her self.

    _Men_. Come in then;
    I have a great design from the King to you,
    And you must work like wax now.

    _Leu_. On this Lady?

    _Men_. On this, and all your wits call home.

    _Leu_. I have done
    Toys in my time of some note; old as I am,
    I think my brains will work without barm;
    Take up the Books.

    _Men_. As we go in, I'le tell ye.       [_Exeunt_.




    Scena IV.


    _Enter_ Antigonus, Timon, Lords _and a_ Souldier.

    _Ant_. No face of sorrow for this loss, 'twill choak him,
    Nor no man miss a friend, I know his nature
    So deep imprest with grief, for what he has suffer'd,
    That the least adding to it adds to his ruine;
    His loss is not so infinite, I hope, Souldier.

    _Soul_. Faith neither great, nor out of indiscretion.
    The young men out of heat.

    _Enter_ Demetrius, Leontius, _and_ Lieutenant.

    _Ant_. I guess the manner.

    _Lord_. The Prince and't like your Grace.

    _Ant_. You are welcome home, Sir:
    Come, no more sorrow, I have heard your fortune,
    And I my self have try'd the like: clear up man,
    I will not have ye take it thus; if I doubted
    Your fear had lost, and that you had turn'd your back to 'em,
    Basely besought their mercies--

    _Leo_. No, no, by this hand, Sir,
    We fought like honest and tall men.

    _Antig_. I know't _Leontius_: or if I thought
    Neglect of rule, having his counsel with ye,
    Or too vain-glorious appetite of Fame,
    Your men forgot and scatter'd.

    _Leo_. None of these, Sir,
    He shew'd himself a noble Gentleman,
    Every way apt to rule.

    _Ant_. These being granted;
    Why should you think you have done an act so hainous,
    That nought but discontent dwells round about ye?
    I have lost a Battel.

    _Leo_. I, and fought it hard too.

    _Ant_. With as much means as man--

    _Leo_. Or Devil could urge it.

    _Ant_. Twenty to one of our side now.

    _Leo_. Turn Tables,
    Beaten like Dogs again, like Owls, you take it
    To heart for flying but a mile before 'em;
    And to say the truth, 'twas no flight neither, Sir,
    'Twas but a walk, a handsome walk,
    I have tumbl'd with this old Body, beaten like a Stock-fish,
    And stuck with Arrows, like an arming Quiver,
    Blouded and bang'd almost a day before 'em,
    And glad I have got off then. Here's a mad Shaver,
    He fights his share I am sure, when e'r he comes to't;
    Yet I have seen him trip it tithly too,
    And cry the Devil take the hindmost ever.

    _Lieu_. I learnt it of my Betters.

    _Leo_. Boudge at this?

    _Ant_. Has Fortune but one Face?

    _Lieu_. In her best Vizard
    Methinks she looks but lowzily.

    _Ant_. Chance, though she faint now,
    And sink below our expectations,
    Is there no hope left strong enough to buoy her?

    _Dem_. 'Tis not, this day I fled before the Enemy,
    And lost my People, left mine Honour murder'd,
    My maiden Honour, never to be ransom'd,
    (Which to a noble Soul is too too sensible)
    Afflicts me with this sadness; most of these,
    Time may turn straight again, experience perfect,
    And new Swords cut new ways to nobler Fortunes.
    O I have lost--

    _Ant_. As you are mine forget it:
    I do not think it loss.

    _Dem_. O Sir, forgive me,
    I have lost my friends, those worthy Souls bred with me,
    I have lost my self, they were the pieces of me:
    I have lost all Arts, my Schools are taken from me,
    Honour and Arms, no emulation left me:
    I liv'd to see these men lost, look'd upon it:
    These men that twin'd their loves to mine, their vertues;
    O shame of shames! I saw and could not save 'em,
    This carries Sulphur in't, this burns, and boils me,
    And like a fatal Tomb, bestrides my memory.

    _Ant_. This was hard fortune, but if alive, and taken,
    They shall be ransom'd: let it be at Millions.

    _Dem_. They are dead, they are dead.

    _Lieu_. When wou'd he weep for me thus?
    I may be dead and powder'd.

    _Leo_. Good Prince, grieve not:
    We are not certain of their deaths: the Enemy,
    Though he be hot, and keen,
    Yet holds good Quarter.
    What Noise is this?

        [_Great Shout within: Enter Gentlemen._

    _Lieu_. He does not follow us?
    Give me a Steeple top.

    _Leo_. They live, they live, Sir.

    _Ant_. Hold up your manly face.
    They live, they are here, Son.

    _Dem_. These are the men.

    _1 Gent_. They are, and live to honour ye.

    _Dem_. How 'scap'd ye noble friends? methought I saw ye
    Even in the Jaws of Death.

    _2 Gent_. Thanks to our folly,
    That spur'd us on; we were indeed hedg'd round in't;
    And ev'n beyond the hand of succour, beaten,
    Unhors'd, disarm'd: and what we lookt for then, Sir,
    Let such poor weary Souls that hear the Bell knoll,
    And see the Grave a digging, tell.

    _Dem_. For Heavens sake
    Delude mine Eyes no longer! how came ye off?

    _1 Gent_. Against all expectation, the brave _Seleucus_,
    I think this day enamour'd on your Vertue,
    When, through the Troops, he saw ye shoot like lightning;
    And at your manly courage all took fire;
    And after that, the misery we fell to
    The never-certain Fate of War, considering,
    As we stood all before him, Fortunes ruines,
    Nothing but Death expecting, a short time
    He made a stand upon our Youths and Fortunes.
    Then with an eye of mercy inform'd his Judgment,
    How yet unripe we were, unblown, unharden'd,
    Unfitted for such fatal ends; he cryed out to us,
    Go Gentlemen, commend me to your Master,
    To the most High, and Hopeful Prince, _Demetrius_;
    Tell him the Valour that he showed against me
    This day, the Virgin Valour, and true fire,
    Deserves even from an Enemy this courtesie;
    Your Lives, and Arms freely. I'll give 'em: thank him.
    And thus we are return'd, Sir.

    _Leo_. Faith, 'twas well done;
    'Twas bravely done; was't not a noble part, Sir?

    _Lieu_. Had I been there, up had I gone, I am sure on't;
    These noble tricks I never durst trust 'em yet.

    _Leo_. Let me not live, and't were not a famed honesty;
    It takes me such a tickling way: now would I wish Heaven,
    But e'n the happiness, e'n that poor blessing
    For all the sharp afflictions thou hast sent me,
    But e'n i'th' head o'th' field, to take _Seleucus_.
    I should do something memorable: fie, sad still?

    _1 Gent_. Do you grieve, we are come off?

    _Dem_. Unransom'd, was it?

    _2 Gent_. It was, Sir.

    _Dem_. And with such a fame to me?
    Said ye not so?

    _Leo_. Ye have heard it.

    _Dem_. O _Leontius_!
    Better I had lost 'em all: my self had perish'd,
    And all my Fathers hopes.

    _Leo_. Mercy upon you;
    What ails you, Sir? Death, do not make fools on's,
    Neither go to Church, nor tarry at home,
    That's a fine Horn-pipe?

    _Ant_. What's now your grief, _Demetrius_?

    _Dem_. Did he not beat us twice?

    _Leo_. He beat, a Pudding;
    Beat us but once.

    _Dem_. H'as beat me twice, and beat me to a Coward.
    Beat me to nothing.

    _Lieu_. Is not the Devil in him?

    _Leo_. I pray it be no worse.

    _Dem_. Twice conquer'd me.

    _Leo_. Bear witness all the world, I am a Dunce here.

    _Dem_. With valour first he struck me, then with honour,
    That stroak _Leontius_, that stroak, dost thou not feel it?

    _Leo_. Whereabouts was it? for I remember nothing yet.

    _Dem_. All these Gentlemen
    That were his Prisoners--

    _Leo_. Yes, he set 'em free, Sir,
    With Arms and honour.

    _Dem_. There, there, now thou hast it;
    At mine own weapon, Courtesie has beaten me,
    At that I was held a Master in, he has cow'd me,
    Hotter than all the dint o'th' Fight he has charg'd me:
    Am I not now a wretched fellow? think on't;
    And when thou hast examin'd all wayes honorable,
    And find'st no door left open to requite this,
    Conclude I am a wretch, and was twice beaten.

    _Ant_. I have observ'd your way, and understand it,
    And equal love it as _Demetrius_,
    My noble child thou shalt not fall in vertue,
    I and my power will sink first: you _Leontius_,
    Wait for a new Commission, ye shall out again,
    And instantly: you shall not lodge this night here,
    Not see a friend, nor take a blessing with ye,
    Before ye be i'th' field: the enemy is up still,
    And still in full design: Charge him again, Son,
    And either bring home that again thou hast lost there,
    Or leave thy body by him.

    _Dem_. Ye raise me,
    And now I dare look up again, _Leontius_.

    _Leo_. I, I, Sir, I am thinking who we shall take of 'em,
    To make all straight; and who we shall give to th' Devil.
    What saist thou now Lieutenant?

    _Lieu_. I say nothing.
    Lord what ail I, that I have no mind to fight now?
    I find my constitution mightily alter'd
    Since I came home: I hate all noises too,
    Especially the noise of Drums; I am now as well
    As any living man; why not as valiant?
    To fight now, is a kind of vomit to me,
    It goes against my stomach.

    _Dem_. Good Sir, presently;
    You cannot doe your Son so fair a favour.

    _Ant_. 'Tis my intent: I'le see ye march away too.
    Come, get your men together presently, _Leontius_,
    And press where please you, as you march.

    _Leo_. We goe Sir.

    _Ant_. Wait you on me, I'le bring ye to your command,
    And then to fortune give you up.

    _Dem_. Ye love me.             [_Exit._

    _Leo_. Goe, get the Drums, beat round, Lieutenant.

    _Lieu_. Hark ye, Sir,
    I have a foolish business they call marriage.

    _Leo_. After the wars are done.

    _Lieu_. The partie staies Sir,
    I have giv'n the Priest his mony too: all my friends Sir,
    My Father, and my Mother.

    _Leo_. Will you goe forward?

    _Lieu_. She brings a pretty matter with her.

    _Leo_. Half a dozen Bastards.

    _Lieu_. Some fortie Sir.

    _Leo_. A goodly competency.

    _Lieu_. I mean Sir, pounds a year; I'le dispatch the matter,
    'Tis but a night or two; I'le overtake ye Sir.

    _Leo_. The 2 old legions, yes: where lies the horse-quarter?

    _Lieu_. And if it be a boy, I'le even make bold Sir.

    _Leo_. Away with your whore,
    A plague o' your whore, you damn'd Rogue,
    Now ye are cur'd and well; must ye be clicketing?

    _Lieu_. I have broke my mind to my Ancient, in my absence,
    He's a sufficient Gentleman.

    _Leo_. Get forward.

    _Lieu_. Only receive her portion.

    _Leo_. Get ye forward;
    Else I'le bang ye forward.

    _Lieu_. Strange Sir,
    A Gentleman and an officer cannot have the liberty
    To doe the office of a man.

    _Leo_. Shame light on thee,
    How came this whore into thy head?

    _Lieu_. This whore Sir?
    'Tis strange, a poor whore.

    _Leo_. Do not answer me,
    Troop, Troop away; do not name this whore again,
    Or think there is a whore.

    _Lieu_. That's very hard Sir.

    _Leo_. For if thou dost, look to't, I'le have thee guelded,
    I'le walk ye out before me: not a word more.     [_Exeunt_.




    Scena V.


    _Enter_ Leucippe, _and_ Governess.

    _Leu_. Ye are the Mistris of the house ye say,
    Where this young Lady lies.

    _Gov_. For want of a better.

    _Leu_. You may be good enough for such a purpose:
    When was the Prince with her? answer me directly.

    _Gov_. Not since he went a warring.

    _Leu_. Very well then:
    What carnal copulation are you privie to
    Between these two? be not afraid, we are women,
    And may talk thus amongst our selves, no harm in't.

    _Gov_. No sure, there's no harm in't, I conceive that;
    But truly, that I ever knew the Gentlewoman
    Otherwise given, than a hopefull Gentlewoman--

    _Leu_. You'l grant me the Prince loves her?

    _Gov_. There I am with ye.
    And the gods bless her, promises her mightily.

    _Leu_. Stay there a while. And gives her gifts?

    _Gov_. Extreamly;
    And truly makes a very Saint of her.

    _Leu_. I should think now,
    (Good woman let me have your judgement with me,
    I see 'tis none of the worst: Come sit down by me)
    That these two cannot love so tenderly.

    _Gov_. Being so young as they are too.

    _Leu_. You say well--
    But that methinks some further promises--

    _Gov_. Yes, yes,
    I have heard the Prince swear he would marry her.

    _Leu_. Very well still: they do not use to fall out?

    _Gov_. The tenderest Chickens to one another,
    They cannot live an hour asunder.

    _Leu_. I have done then;
    And be you gone; you know your charge, and do it.
    You know whose will it is; if you transgress it--
    That is, if any have access, or see her,
    Before the Kings will be fulfill'd--

    _Gov_. Not the Prince, Madam?

    _Leu_. You'I be hang'd if you doe it, that I'le assure ye.

    _Gov_. But ne'retheless, I'le make bold to obey ye.

    _Leu_. Away, and to your business then.

    _Gov_. 'Tis done, Madam.          [_Exeunt._
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    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.
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    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._
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    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._
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    Variety is the spice of life

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    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._
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    Variety is the spice of life

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    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.
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    Variety is the spice of life

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    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_.
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    Variety is the spice of life

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    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._
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    Variety is the spice of life

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    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._
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    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._
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    Actus Quintus. Scena Prima.


    _Enter_ Gertrude, _and a_ Boor.

    _Ger._ Lead, if thou thinkst we are right: why dost thou make
    These often stands? thou saidst thou knewst the way.

    _Bo._ Fear nothing, I do know it: would 'twere homeward.

    _Ger._ Wrought from me by a Beggar? at the time
    That most should tye him? 'tis some other Love
    That hath a more command on his affections,
    And he that fetcht him, a disguised Agent,
    Not what he personated; for his fashion
    Was more familiar with him, and more powerful
    Than one that ask'd an alms: I must find out
    One, if not both: kind darkness be my shrowd,
    And cover loves too curious search in me,
    For yet, suspicion, I would not name thee.

    _Bo._ Mistris, it grows somewhat pretty and dark.

    _Ger._ What then?

    _Bo._ Nay, nothing; do not think I am afraid,
    Although perhaps you are.

    _Ger._ I am not, forward.

    _Bo._ Sure but you are? give me your hand, fear nothing.
    There's one leg in the wood, do not pull me backward:
    What a sweat one on's are in, you or I?
    Pray God it do not prove the plague; yet sure
    It has infected me; for I sweat too,
    It runs out at my knees, feel, feel, I pray you.

    _Ger._ What ails the fellow?

    _Bo._ Hark, hark I beseech you,
    Do you hear nothing?

    _Ger._ No.

    _Bo._ List: a wild Hog,
    He grunts: now 'tis a Bear: this wood is full of 'em,
    And now, a Wolf, Mistress, a Wolf, a Wolf,
    It is the howling of a Wolf.

    _Ger._ The braying of an Ass, is it not?

    _Bo._ Oh, now one has me;
    Oh my left haunch, farewel.

    _Ger._ Look to your Shanks,
    Your Breech is safe enough, the Wolf's a Fern-brake.

    _Bo._ But see, see, see, there is a Serpent in it;
    It has eyes as broad as Platters; it spits fire;
    Now it creeps towards us, help me to say my Prayers:
    It hath swallowed me almost, my breath is stopt;
    I cannot speak: do I speak Mistress? tell me.

    _Ger._ Why, thou strange timerous Sot, canst thou perceive
    Any thing i'th' Bush but a poor Glo-worm?

    _Bo._ It may be 'tis but a Glo-worm now, but 'twill
    Grow to a Fire-drake presently.

    _Ger._ Come thou from it:
    I have a precious guide of you, and a courteous,
    That gives me leave to lead my self the way thus.

    _Bo._ It thunders, you hear that now?

    _Ger._ I hear one hollow.

    _Bo._ 'Tis thunder, thunder:
    See, a Flash of Lightning:
    Are you not blasted Mistress? pull your Mask off,
    It has plaid the Barber with me here: I have lost
    My Beard, my Beard, pray God you be not shaven,
    'Twill spoil your Marriage Mistress.

    _Ger._ What strange Wonders
    Fear fancies in a Coward!

    _Bo._ Now the Earth opens.

    _Ger._ Prithee hold thy peace.

    _Bo._ Will you on then?

    _Ger._ Both love and jealousie have made me bold,
    Where my Fate leads me, I must go.     [_Exit._

    _Bo._ God be with you then.

    _Enter_ Woolfort, Hemskirk, _and_ Attendants.

    _Hem._ It was the Fellow sure, he that should guide me,
    The Hunts-man that did hollow us.

    _Woolf._ Best make a stand,
    And listen to his next: Ha!

    _Hem._ Who goes there?

    _Bo._ Mistress, I am taken.

    _Hem._ Mistress? Look forth Souldiers.

    _Woolf._ What are you Sirrah?

    _Bo._ Truly all is left
    Of a poor Boor, by day-light, by night no body,
    You might have spar'd your Drum, and Guns, and Pikes too
    For I am none that will stand out Sir, I.
    You may take me in with a walking Stick,
    Even when you please, and hold me with a packthred.

    _Hem._ What woman was't you call'd to?

    _Bo._ Woman! none Sir.

    _Woolf._ None! did you not name Mistress?

    _Bo._ Yes, but she's
    No woman yet: she should have been this night,
    But that a Beggar stole away her Bridegroom,
    Whom we were going to make hue and cry after;
    I tell you true Sir, she should ha' been married to day;
    And was the Bride and all; but in came _Clause_,
    The old lame Beggar, and whips up Mr _Goswin_
    Under his arm; away with him as a Kite,
    Or an old Fox would swoop away a Gosling.

    _Hem._ 'Tis she, 'tis she, 'tis she: Niece?

    _Ger._ Ha!

    _Hem._ She Sir,
    This was a noble entrance to your fortune,
    That being on the point thus to be married,
    Upon her venture here, you should surprise her.

    _Woolf._ I begin, _Hemskirk,_ to believe my fate,
    Works to my ends.

    _Hem._ Yes Sir, and this adds trust
    Unto the fellow our guide, who assur'd me _Florez_
    Liv'd in some Merchants shape, as _Gerrard_ did
    I' the old Beggars, and that he would use
    Him for the train, to call the other forth;
    All which we find is done--That's he again--     [_Holla again._

    _Woolf._ Good, we sent out to meet him.

    _Hem._ Here's the Oak.

    _Ger._ I am miserably lost, thus faln
    Into my Uncles hands from all my hopes,
    Can I not think away my self and dye?

    _Enter_ Hubert, Higgen, Prig, Ferret, Snap, Ginks _like_ Boors.

    _Hub._ I like your habits well: they are safe, stand close.

    _Hig._ But what's the action we are for now? Ha!
    Robbing a Ripper of his Fish.

    _Prig._ Or taking
    A Poulterer Prisoner, without ransome, Bullyes?

    _Hig._ Or cutting off a Convoy of Butter?

    _Fer._ Or surprizing a Boors ken, for granting cheats!

    _Prig._ Or cackling Cheats?

    _Hig._ Or Mergery-praters, Rogers,
    And Tibs o'th' Buttery?

    _Prig._ O I could drive a Regiment
    Of Geese afore me, such a night as this,
    Ten Leagues with my Hat and Staff, and not a hiss
    Heard, nor a wing of my Troops disordered.

    _Hig._ Tell us,
    If it be milling of a lag of duds,
    The fetching of a back of cloaths or so;
    We are horribly out of linnen.

    _Hub._ No such matter.

    _Hig._ Let me alone with the Farmers dog,
    If you have a mind to the cheese-loft; 'tis but thus,
    And he is a silenc'd Mastiff, during pleasure.

    _Hub._ Would it would please you to be silent.

    _Hig._ Mum.

    _Woolf._ Who's there?

    _Hub._ A friend, the Hunts-man.

    _Hem._ O 'tis he.

    _Hub._ I have kept touch Sir, which is the Earl of these?
    Will he know a man now?

    _Hem._ This my Lord's the Friend,
    Hath undertook the service.

    _Hub._ If't be worth
    His Lordships thanks anon, when 'tis done
    Lording, I'll look for't, a rude Wood-man,
    I know how to pitch my toils, drive in my game:
    And I have don't, both _Florez_ and his Father
    Old _Gerrard_, with Lord _Arnold_ of _Benthuisen_,
    _Cozen_, and _Jaculin_, young _Florez_'s Sister:
    I have 'em all.

    _Woolf._ Thou speak'st too much, too happy,
    To carry faith with it.

    _Hub._ I can bring you
    Where you shall see, and find 'em.

    _Woolf._ We will double
    What ever _Hemskirk_ then hath promis'd thee.

    _Hub._ And I'll deserve it treble: what horse ha' you?

    _Woolf._ A hundred. That's well: ready to take
    Upon surprise of 'em.

    _Hem._ Yes.

    _Hub._ Divide then
    Your force into five Squadrons; for there are
    So many out-lets, ways through the wood
    That issue from the place where they are lodg'd:
    Five several ways, of all which Passages,
    We must possess our selves, to round 'em in;
    For by one starting hole they'll all escape else:
    I and 4. Boors here to me will be guides,
    The Squadron where you are, my self will lead:
    And that they may be more secure, I'll use
    My wonted whoops, and hollows, as I were
    A hunting for 'em; which will make them rest
    Careless of any noise, and be a direction
    To the other guides, how we approach 'em still.

    _Woolf._ 'Tis order'd well, and relisheth the Souldier;
    Make the division _Hemskirk_; you are my charge,
    Fair One, I'll look to you.

    _Boo._ Shall no body need
    To look to me? I'll look unto my self.

    _Hub._ 'Tis but this, remember.

    _Hig._ Say, 'tis done, Boy.     [_Exeunt._




    Scena II.


    _Enter_ Gerrard _and_ Florez.

    _Ger._ By this time Sir I hope you want no reasons
    Why I broke off your marriage, for though I
    Should as a Subject study you my Prince
    In things indifferent, it will not therefore
    Discredit you, to acknowledge me your Father,
    By harkning to my necessary counsels.

    _Flo._ Acknowledge you my Father? Sir I do,
    And may impiety, conspiring with
    My other Sins, sink me, and suddenly
    When I forget to pay you a Sons duty
    In my obedience, and that help'd forth
    With all the cheerfulness.

    _Ger._ I pray you rise,
    And may those powers that see and love this in you,
    Reward you for it: Taught by your example
    Having receiv'd the rights due to a Father,
    I tender you th' allegeance of a Subject:
    Which as my Prince accept of.

    _Flo._ Kneel to me?
    May mountains first fall down beneath their valleys,
    And fire no more mount upwards, when I suffer
    An act in nature so preposterous;
    I must o'ercome in this, in all things else
    The victory be yours: could you here read me,
    You should perceive how all my faculties
    Triumph in my blest fate, to be found yours;
    I am your son, your son Sir, and am prouder
    To be so, to the Father, to such goodness
    (Which heaven be pleas'd, I may inherit from you)
    Than I shall ever of those specious titles
    That plead for my succession in the Earldom
    (Did I possess it now) left by my Mother.

    _Ger._ I do believe it: but--

    _Flo._ O my lov'd Father,
    Before I knew you were so, by instinct,
    Nature had taught me, to look on your wants,
    Not as a stranger's: and I know not how,
    What you call'd charity, I thought the payment
    Of some religious debt, nature stood bound for;
    And last of all, when your magnificent bounty
    In my low ebb of fortune, had brought in
    A flood of blessings, though my threatning wants
    And fear of their effects, still kept me stupid,
    I soon found out, it was no common pity
    That led you to it.

    _Ger._ Think of this hereafter
    When we with joy may call it to remembrance,
    There will be a time, more opportune, than now
    To end our story, with all circumstances,
    I add this only: when we fled from _Wolfort_
    I sent you into _England_, and there placed you
    With a brave _Flanders_ Merchant, call'd rich _Goswin_,
    A man supplyed by me unto that purpose,
    As bound by oath never to discover you,
    Who dying, left his name and wealth unto you
    As his reputed Son, and yet receiv'd so;
    But now, as _Florez_, and a Prince, remember
    The countreys, and the subjects general good
    Must challenge the first part in your affection:
    The fair maid, whom you chose to be your wife,
    Being so far beneath you, that your love
    Must grant she's not your equal.

    _Flo._ In descent
    Or borrowed glories from dead Ancestors,
    But for her beauty, chastity, and all vertues
    Ever remembred in the best of women,
    A Monarch might receive from her, not give,
    Though she were his Crowns purchase; in this only
    Be an indulgent Father: in all else,
    Use your authority.

    _Enter_ Hubert, Hemskirk, Wolfort,
    Bertha, _and_ Souldiers.

    _Hub._ Sir, here be two of 'em,
    The Father and the Son, the rest you shall have
    As fast as I can rouze them.

    _Ger._ Who's this? _Wolfort_?

    _Wol._ I Criple, your feigned crutches will not help you,
    Nor patch'd disguise that hath so long conceal'd you,
    It's now no halting: I must here find _Gerrard_,
    And in this Merchants habit, one call'd _Florez_
    Who would be an Earl.

    _Ger._ And is, wert thou a subject.

    _Flo._ Is this that Traitor _Wolfort_?

    _Wol._ Yes, but you
    Are they that are betrai'd: _Hemskirk_.

    _Ber._ My _Goswin_
    Turn'd Prince? O I am poorer by this greatness,
    Than all my former jealousies or misfortunes.

    _Florez._ _Gertrude_?

    _Wol._ Stay Sir, you were to day too near her,
    You must no more aim at those easie accesses,
    Less you can do't in air, without a head,
    Which shall be suddenly tri'd.

    _Ber._ O take my heart, first,
    And since I cannot hope now to enjoy him,
    Let me but fall a part of his glad ransom.

    _Wol._ You know not your own value, that entreat.

    _Ger._ So proud a fiend as _Wolfort_.

    _Wol._ For so lost
    A thing as _Florez_.

    _Flo._ And that would be so
    Rather than she should stoop again to thee;
    There is no death, but's sweeter than all life,
    When _Wolfort_ is to give it: O my _Gertrude_,
    It is not that, nor Princedom that I goe from,
    It is from thee, that loss includeth all.

    _Wol._ I, if my young Prince knew his loss, he would say so,
    Which that he yet may chew on, I will tell him
    This is no _Gertrude_, nor no _Hemskirks_ Niece,
    Nor _Vandunks_ Daughter: this is _Bertha_, _Bertha_,
    The heir of _Brabant_, she that caus'd the war,
    Whom I did steal, during my treaty there,
    In your minority, to raise my self;
    I then fore-seeing 'twould beget a quarel,
    That, a necessity of my employment,
    The same employment, make me master of strength,
    That strength, the Lord of _Flanders_, so of _Brabant_,
    By marrying her: which had not been to doe Sir,
    She come of years, but that the expectation
    First of her Fathers death, retarded it,
    And since the standing out of _Bruges_, where
    _Hemskirk_ had hid her, till she was near lost:
    But Sir, we have recover'd her: your Merchantship
    May break, for this was one of your best bottoms
    I think.

    _Ger._ Insolent Devil!

    _Enter_ Hubert, with Jaqueline, Ginks,
    _and_ Costin.

    _Wol._ Who are these, _Hemskirk_?

    _Hem._ More, more, Sir.

    _Flo._ How they triumph in their treachery!

    _Hem._ Lord _Arnold_ of _Benthusin_, this Lord _Costin_,
    This _Jaqueline_ the sister unto _Florez_.

    _Wol._ All found? why here's brave game, this was sport royall,
    And puts me in thought of a new kind of death for 'em.
    Hunts-man, your horn: first wind me _Florez_ fall,
    Next _Gerrards_, then his Daughter _Jaquelins_,
    Those rascals, they shall dye without their rights:
    Hang 'em _Hemskirk_ on these trees; I'le take
    The assay of these my self.

    _Hub._ Not here my Lord,
    Let 'em be broken up upon a scaffold,
    'Twill shew the better when their arbour's made.

    _Ger._ Wretch, art thou not content thou hast betrai'd us,
    But mock us too?

    _Ginks._ False _Hubert_, this is monstrous.

    _Wol._ _Hubert_?

    _Hem._ Who, this?

    _Ger._ Yes this is _Hubert_, _Wolfort_,
    I hope he has helpt himself to a tree.

    _Wol._ The first,
    The first of any, and most glad I have you Sir,
    I let you goe before, but for a train;
    Is't you have done this service?

    _Hub._ As your Hunts-man,
    But now as _Hubert_; save your selves, I will,
    The _Wolf's_ afoot, let slip; kill, kill, kill, kill.

    _Enter with a drum_ Van-dunk, Merchants,
    Higgen, Prig, Ferret, Snap.

    _Wol._ Betray'd?

    _Hub._ No, but well catch'd: and I the Huntsman.

    _Van-d._ How do you _Wolfort_? Rascal, good knave _Wolfort_,
    I speak it now without the Rose, and _Hemskirk_,
    Rogue _Hemskirk_, you that have no niece, this Lady
    Was stoln by you, and ta'ne by you, and now
    Resign'd by me, to the right owner here:
    Take her my Prince.

    _Flo._ Can this be possible,
    Welcom my love, my sweet, my worthy love.

    _Van-d._ I ha' giv'n you her twice: now keep her better, and thank
    Lord _Hubert_, that came to me in _Gerrards_ name,
    And got me out, with my brave Boyes, to march
    Like _Caesar_, when he bred his Commentaries,
    So I, to bread my Chronicle, came forth
    _Caesar Van-dunk_, & _veni, vidi, vici_,
    Give me my Bottle, and set down the drum;
    You had your tricks Sir, had you? we ha' tricks too,
    You stole the Lady?

    _Hig._ And we led your Squadrons,
    Where they ha' scratch'd their leggs a little, with brambles,
    If not their faces.

    _Prig._ Yes, and run their heads
    Against trees.

    _Hig._ 'Tis Captain _Prig_, Sir.

    _Prig._ And Coronel _Higgen_.

    _Hig._ We have fill'd a pit with your people, some with leggs,
    Some with arms broken, and a neck or two
    I think be loose.

    _Prig._ The rest too, that escap'd,
    Are not yet out o'the briars,

    _Hig._ And your horses, Sir,
    Are well set up in _Bruges_ all by this time:
    You look as you were not well Sir, and would be
    Shortly let blood; do you want a scarf?

    _Van-d._ A halter.

    _Ger._ 'Twas like your self, honest, and noble _Hubert_:
    Can'st thou behold these mirrors all together,
    Of thy long, false, and bloody usurpation?
    Thy tyrrannous proscription, and fresh treason:
    And not so see thy self, as to fall down
    And sinking, force a grave, with thine own guilt,
    As deep as hell, to cover thee and it?

    _Wol._ No, I can stand: and praise the toyles that took me
    And laughing in them dye, they were brave snares.

    _Flo._ 'Twere truer valour, if thou durst repent
    The wrongs th' hast done, and live.

    _Wol._ Who, I repent?
    And say I am sorry? yes, 'tis the fool's language
    And not for _Wolfort_.

    _Van-d._ _Wolfort_, thou art a Devil,
    And speakst his language, oh that I had my longing
    Under this row of trees now would I hang him.

    _Flo._ No let him live, until he can repent,
    But banish'd from our State, that is thy doom.

    _Van-d._ Then hang his worthy Captain here, this _Hemskirk_
    For profit of th' example.

    _Flo._ No let him
    Enjoy his shame too: with his conscious life,
    To shew how much our innocence contemns
    All practice from the guiltiest, to molest us.

    _Van-d._ A noble Prince.

    _Ger._ Sir, you must help to join
    A pair of hands, as they have done their hearts here,
    And to their loves with joy.

    _Flo._ As to mine own,
    My gracious Sister, worthiest Brother.

    _Van._ I'le go afore, and have the bon-fire made,
    My fire-works, & flap dragons, and good backrack,
    With a peck of little fishes, to drink down
    In healths to this day.

    _Hig._ 'Slight, here be changes,
    The Bells ha' not so many, nor a dance, _Prig_.

    _Prig._ Our Company's grown horrible thin by it,
    What think you _Ferret_?

    _Fer._ Marry I do think,
    That we might all be Lords now, if we could stand for't.

    _Hig._ Not I if they should offer it: I'le dislodge first,
    Remove the Bush to another climat.

    _Ger._ Sir, you must thank this worthy _Burgomaster_,
    Here be friends ask to be look'd on too,
    And thank'd, who though their trade, and course of life
    Be not so perfect, but it may be better'd,
    Have yet us'd me with courtesy, and been true
    Subjects unto me, while I was their King,
    A place I know not well how to resign,
    Nor unto whom: But this I will entreat
    Your grace, command them follow you to _Bruges_;
    Where I will take the care on me, to find
    Some manly, and more profitable course
    To fit them, as a part of the Republique.

    _Flo._ Do you hear Sirs? do so.

    _Hig._ Thanks to your good grace.

    _Prig._ To your good Lordship.

    _Fer._ May you both live long.

    _Ger._ Attend me at _Van-dunks_, the _Burgomasters_.

    [_Ex. all but Beggars._

    _Hig._ Yes, to beat hemp, and be whipt twice a week,
    Or turn the wheel, for Crab the Rope-maker:
    Or learn to go along with him, his course;
    That's a fine course now, i' the common-wealth, _Prig_,
    What say you to it?

    _Prig._ It is the backwardst course,
    I know i'the world.

    _Hig._ Then _Higgen_ will scarce thrive by it,
    You do conclude?

    _Prig._ 'Faith hardly, very hardly.

    _Hig._ Troth I am partly of your mind, Prince _Prig_;
    And therefore farewel _Flanders_, _Higgen_ will seek
    Some safer shelter, in some other Climat,
    With this his tatter'd Colony: Let me see
    _Snap_, _Ferret_, _Prig_, and _Higgen_, all are left
    O' the true blood: what? shall we into _England_?

    _Prig._ Agreed.

    _Hig._ Then bear up bravely with your _Brute_ my lads,
    _Higgen_ hath prig'd the prancers in his dayes,
    And sold good penny-worths; we will have a course,
    The Spirit of _Bottom_, is grown bottomless.

    _Prig._ I'le mand no more, nor cant.

    _Hig._ Yes, your sixpenny worth
    In private, Brother, sixpence is a sum
    I'le steal you any mans Dogg for.

    _Prig._ For sixpence more
    You'l tell the owner where he is.

    _Hig._ 'Tis right,
    _Higgen_ must practise, so must _Prig_ to eat;
    And write the Letter: and gi' the word. But now
    No more, as either of these.

    _Prig._ But as true Beggars,
    As e're we were.

    _Hig._ We stand here, for an Epilogue;
    Ladies, your bounties first; the rest will follow;
    For womens favours are a leading alms,
    If you be pleas'd look cheerly, throw your eyes
    Out at your masks.

    _Prig._ And let your beauties sparkle.

    _Hig._ So may you ne'er want dressings, Jewels, gowns
    Still i' the fashion.

    _Prig._ Nor the men you love,
    Wealth nor discourse to please you.

    _Hig._ May you Gentlemen,
    Never want good fresh suits nor liberty.

    _Prig._ May every Merchant here see safe his ventures.

    _Hig._ And every honest Citizen his debts in.

    _Prig._ The Lawyers again good Clyents.

    _Hig._ And the Clyents good Counsel.

    _Prig._ All the Gamesters here good fortune.

    _Hig._ The Drunkards too good wine.

    _Prig._ The eaters meat
    Fit for their tastes and palats.

    _Hig._ The good wives kind Husbands.

    _Prig._ The young maids choyce of Sutors.

    _Hig._ The Midwives merry hearts.

    _Prig._ And all good cheer.

    _Hig._ As you are kind unto us and our Bush,
    We are the Beggars and your daily Beadsmen,
    And have your mony, but the Alms we ask
    And live by, is your Grace, give that, and then
    We'l boldly say our word is, _Come again_.

    _Ger_. Now sweare him.

    _Hig_. You are welcom Brother.

    _All_. Welcom, welcom, welcom, but who shall have the keeping
    Of this fellow?

    _Hub_. Thank ye friends,
    And I beseech ye, if you dare but trust me;
    For if I have kept wilde doggs and beastes for wonder,
    And made 'em tame too: give into my custody
    This roaring rascal I shall hamper him,
    With all his knacks and knaveryes, and I feare me
    Discover yet a further villany in him;
    O he smells ranck 'oth rascall.

    _Ger_. Take him to thee,
    But if he scape--

    _Hub_. Let me be ev'n hang'd for him,
    Roome Sir, I'le tye ye to my leash.

    _Hem_. Away Rascall.

    _Hub_. Be not so stubborne: I shall swindge ye soundly,
    And ye play tricks with me.

    _Ger_. Now sweare him.

    _Hig_. I crowne thy nab, with a gag of benbouse,
    And stall thee by the salmon into the clowes,
    To mand on the pad, and strike all the cheates;
    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 poure on thy pate a pot of good ale,
    And by the Rogues oth a Rogue thee install:
    To beg on the way, to rob all thou meetes;
    To steale 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 Divell go hang.

    _Ger_. So, now come in,
    But ever have an eye Sir, to your prisoner.

    _Hub_. He must blinde both mine eyes, if he get from me.

    _Ger_. Go, get some victualls, and some drink, some good drink
    For this day weele keep holly to good fortune,
    Come and be frollick with us.

    _Hig_. Ye are a stanger.               _Exeunt_.
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