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diff --git a/old/10656-8.txt b/old/10656-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4b7b348 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/10656-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,18458 @@ +Project Gutenberg's A Collection of Old English Plays, Vol. II, by Various + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: A Collection of Old English Plays, Vol. II + +Author: Various + +Release Date: January 9, 2004 [EBook #10656] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OLD ENGLISH PLAYS, V2 *** + + + + +Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Tapio Riikonen and PG Distributed +Proofreaders + + + + + + + +A COLLECTION OF OLD ENGLISH PLAYS, VOL. II + +In Four Volumes + + +Edited by + +A.H. BULLEN + + +1882-89. + + + +CONTENTS: + +Preface +Dick of Devonshire +The Lady Mother +The Tragedy of Sir John Van Olden Barnavelt +Captain Underwit +Appendix I. +Appendix II. +Footnotes. + + + + +PREFACE. + + +The plays in this volume are printed for the first time. All are +anonymous; but it is absolutely certain that _Sir John Van Olden +Barnavelt_ is a masterpiece by Fletcher and Massinger; that _Captain +Underwit_ is a comedy of Shirley's; and that the _Lady Mother_ (a piece +of no particular merit) is by Glapthorne. I am not at all sure that I am +right in ascribing _Dick of Devonshire_ to Heywood. But, whoever may +have been the author, I am confident that this well-written play will be +welcomed by all. In _Appendix I_ I give an account of the folio volume +(Eg. MS. 1,994) from which the two last pieces are taken. + +To Mr. ROBERT BOYLE, of St. Petersburg, I offer my sincere thanks for +the very interesting note (_Appendix II_) which he sent me after reading +the proof-sheets of _Barnavelt_. Elsewhere I have expressed my gratitude +to Mr. F.G. FLEAY for his valuable help. + +The preparation of this volume has been a work of great labour, for +everything has been transcribed by my own hand; but the tedious delay in +publication has been due in great part to circumstances beyond my +control. + +_January_ 27, 1883. + + + + + + +INTRODUCTION TO DICK OF DEVONSHIRE. + + +The play of _Dick of Devonshire_, now first printed (from Eg. MS., +1994[1]), is distinctly a well-written piece, the work of a practised +hand. There is nothing amateurish in the workmanship; the reader is not +doomed to soar into extravagances at one moment, and sink into +flatnesses at another. Ample opportunities were offered for displays of +boisterous riot, but the playwright's even-balanced mind was not to be +disturbed. Everywhere there are traces of studious care; and we may be +sure that a style at once so equable and strong was not attained without +a long apprenticeship. Nor will the reader fail to note the lesson of +charitableness and Christian forbearance constantly, yet unobtrusively, +inculcated. + +The hero of the play, Richard Pike, published, under the title of _Three +to One_, a pamphlet (reprinted in vol. i. of Mr. Arber's valuable +_English Garner_) describing his exploits. There is no date to the +pamphlet; but it was no doubt issued very shortly after Pike's return, +which took place on April 20, 1626. At the outset the writer apologises +for the rudeness of his style, "I know not," he says, "what the court of +a king means, nor what the fine phrases of silken courtiers are. A good +ship I know, and a poor cabin; and the language of a cannon: and +therefore as my breeding has been rough, scorning delicacy; and my +present being consisteth altogether upon the soldier (blunt, plain and +unpolished), so must my writings be, proceeding from fingers fitter for +the pike than the pen." In those days a soldier was never at a loss to +express himself, and honest Dick Pike was no exception to the rule. He +goes straight to the point, and relates his adventures very vividly in +the homeliest language. Returning from an expedition against Algiers +"somewhat more acquainted with the world, but little amended in estate," +he could not long rest inactive; and soon, "the drum beating up for a +new expedition," set out to try his fortunes again. The design was +against Cadiz; the fleet, under the command of the Earl of Essex, +numbered some 110 sail. There is no need to continue the story, for I +have nothing to add to the facts set forth in the pamphlet and the play. +If _Britannia's Pastorals_ had been written a few years later, we may be +sure that William Browne would have paid a fitting compliment to his +fellow-townsman's bravery. But Pike's famous deeds were not forgotten by +his countymen; for in a broadside of the late seventeenth century, +bearing the title of _A Panegyric Poem; or, Tavestock's Encomium_,[2] he +is thus enthusiastically praised:-- + + "Search whether can be found again the like + For noble prowess for our Tav'stock Pike, + In whose renowned never-dying name + Live England's honour and the Spaniard's shame." + +There is a curious notice of our hero in a private letter, dated May 19, +1626, of Dr. Meddus to the Rev. Joseph Mead:[3]--"Yesterday being Holy +Thursday, one Pyke, a common soldier, left behind the fleet at Cadiz, +delivered a challenge to the Duke of Buckingham from the Marquis of ----, +brother-in-law to the Conde d'Olivares, in defence of the honour of his +sister; affirming, moreover, that he had wronged Olivares, the King of +Spain, and the King of England, and therefore he would fight with him in +any part of France. This Pike, a Devonshire man, being presented +prisoner to the Duke of Medina, he would needs have him fight at rapier +or dagger with a Spaniard, supposing he would not stand him two thrusts: +but Pyke, by a dexterous sleight, presently disarmed the Spaniard of his +rapier without hurting him, and presented it to the Duke," &c. + +As to the authorship of the play, though I should be loth to speak with +positiveness, I feel bound to put forward a claim for Thomas Heywood. +Through all Heywood's writings there runs a vein of generous kindliness: +everywhere we see a gentle, benign countenance, radiant with love and +sympathy. On laying down one of his plays, the reader is inclined to +apply to him Tacitus' judgment of Agricola, "bonum virum facile +crederes, magnum libenter." Now, when we open _Dick of Devonshire_, the +naturalness and simplicity of the first scene at once suggest Heywood's +hand. In the second scene, the spirited eulogy on Drake-- + + "That glory of his country and Spayne's terror, + That wonder of the land and the seas minyon, + _Drake_, of eternall memory--" + +and the fine lines descriptive of the Armada are just such as we might +expect from the author of the closing scenes of the second part of _If +you know not me, you know nobody_. Heywood was fond of stirring +adventures: he is quite at home on the sea, and delights in nothing more +than in describing a sea-fight; witness his _Fortunes by Land and Sea_, +and the two parts of the _Fair Maid of the West_. But the underplot +bears even clearer traces of Heywood's manner. Manuel is one of those +characters he loved to draw--a perfect Christian gentleman, incapable of +baseness in word or deed. Few situations could be found more touching +than the scene (iii. 3), where Manuel defends with passionate +earnestness the honour of his absent brother, Henrico, and tries to +comfort his heart-broken father. Heywood dealt in extremes: his +characters are, as a rule, either faultless gentlemen or abandoned +scoundrels. Hence we need not be surprised that Henrico exceeds other +villains in ruffianism as much as his brother, the gentle Manuel, +surpasses ordinary heroes in virtue. The characters of Henrico's +contracted bride, Eleonora, and Catalina, the good wife of a vicious +husband, are drawn tenderly and skilfully. Heywood's eyes were oftener +dim with tears than radiant with laughter; yet, with all his sympathy +for the afflicted and the fallen, he never took a distorted view of +society, but preserved untainted to the end a perennial spring of +cheerfulness. + +I now leave the reader to the enjoyment of this old play, which, whether +it be Heywood's or not, certainly deserves the attention of all faithful +students of our inexhaustible dramatic literature. + +NOTE.--I gratefully acknowledge the assistance that I have received from +F.G. Fleay, Esq., in preparing this volume for the press. To ensure as +much accuracy as possible, Mr. Fleay has read the proof-sheets +throughout.[4] By the same gentleman's kindness I am able to correct the +following misprints in the first volume:-- + +p. 37, l. 23, for "Yet can give," read, "Yet can I give." + +p. 71, l. 18, del. comma after "live." + +p. 103, l. 9, del. "we." + +p. 119, 7 from bottom, for "she doth preferd doth see," read "she thus +preferd," &c. + +p. 142, 9 from bottom, for "vouchsafed," read "vouchsafe." + +p. 154, l. 19, for "There they are," read "I, here they are." + +p. 190, l. 24, for "woman" read "women." + +p. 194, l. 12, for "unwist," read "unjust." + +p. 228, last line, for "Equire," read "Squire." + +p, 258, l. 29, for "1639," read "1612." + +p. 274, l. 16, for "whore," read "whore's;" and in the next line, for +"sunnes," read "sinnes." + +p. 276, l. 4, after "Do not my Dons know," add "me." + +p. 281, 4 from bottom, for "wo," read "two." + +p. 311, l. 12, for "sol-Re-fa-mi," read "sol-Re-me-fa-mi." In l. 19, for +"Ra." read "Re." + +p. 317, l. 21, for "goon," read "good." + +p. 331, l. i, for "Med,," read "King." + + + + +THE PLAY OF DICKE OF DEVONSHIRE. + +_A Tragi-Comedy_. + + +Hector adest secumque Deos in praelia ducit. + + + +Drammatis Personae. + +_The Duke of Macada_, | +_The Duke of Girona_, | +_The Duke of Medina_, | Four Grandies. +_The Marquesse d'Alquevezzes_, | +_Don Pedro Gusman_, An ancient Lord. +_Manuell_, | His Sons. +_Henrico_, | +_Don Fernando_, Governor of Cadiz Towne. +_Teniente_, A Justicier. +_Bustamente_, Captaine of Cadiz Castle. +_Dicke Pike_, The Devonshire Soldier. +_Don John_, A Colonel. +_Buzzano_, Servant to Pedro Guzman. +_Eleonora_, Daughter to Fernando. +_Catelina_, Wife to Don John. +_A Gentlewoman_. +_An English Captaine_. +_Mr. Jewell_. +_Mr. Hill_. +_Secretary_. +_Mr. Woodrow_. +_A Jaylor_. +_Two Fryers_. +_A Guard_. +_English Soldiers_. +_Spanish Soldiers_. + + + + +The Play of Dick of Devonshire. + + + +_Actus Primus_. + +(SCENE 1.) + + + _Enter Don Pedro Gusman, Henrico and Manuell, his sons; + Don Fernando and Eleanora, his daughter, and Teniente_. + +_Pedr_. Gentlemen, y'have much honourd me to take +Such entertainement, but y'are welcome all. +'Twas my desire to have your company +At parting: heaven knowes when we shall meete againe. + +_Ten_. You are for _France_ then too? + +_Man_. I wayte on my father. + +_Pedr_. _Henrico_. + +_Ferd_. _Eleonora_. + +_Ten_. But how chance, _Manuell_, your younger brother +Is at the Goale before you? What, no Lady +To please your eye? + +_Man_. I am not +Yet weary of my freedome. May _Henrico_ +Meete Joy in his Election: yet I know not +One I would sooner chuse to call a sister +Than _Eleonora_. + +_Pedr_. At my returne from France all things shall bee +Consummate; in meane time let your owne hearts, +Knitt with the strongest tye of love, be merry +In mutuall embraces, and let your prayers +Fill our departing sayles. Our stay will not +Bee long, and the necessity of my affaires +Unwillingly doth take me from you. + +_Hen_. Though I could wish your stay, my duty bidds me +Expect the enjoying of my happines +Till your returne from _France_.--Your blessing. + +_Eleo_. How ever heaven dispose of _Eleonora_, +Pray write me in your thoughts your humblest daughter, +That shall make it a part of her devotions +To pray for you. + +_Fer_. Well, sir, since your designe +Pulls you away, may your good Angell guard you. + +_Ten_. The like wish I, _Don Pedro_. + +_Fer_. _Manuell_, I hope +You will not long breath out of _Spanish_ ayre. +Farewell! + +_Pedr_. My thanks to all.--Stay! + + [_Peeces dischargd_. + +_Fer_. The Captaine of the Castle come to interpret +That language to us? What newes? + + _Enter Bustamente_. + +_Bust_. Such as will make all _Spaine_ dance in Canary. +The _Brasile_ fleete-- + +_Pedr_. Arriv'd? + +_Bust_. Is putting into harbour, and aloud +Calls for a Midwife: she is great with gold +And longs to be delivered. + +_Pedr_. No he _Spanyard_ +Is not a true reioycer at the newes: +Be't a good omen to our Journey. + +_Ten_. So we wish all. + +_Pedr_. May we at our returne meet no worse newes +Then now at parting. My noble _Don Fernando_ +And _Teniente_, once more farewell, (my daughter, I hope) + +_Eleonora, Henrico_,--Nay, your good newes deserves a farewell. + +_Bust_. A soldier's farewell, a fast hand and heart; +Good fate to both. + [_Ex. Pedr. and Man_. + +_Hen_. Come, _Elinor_, let them discourse their Joyes +For the safe fleete: in thee all my delights +Embarke themselves. + +_Bust_. Tush, lett 'em come; our shippes have brought with them +The newes of warre. + +_Per_. What is that, Gentlemen? + +_Ten_. I am speaking of a fleete of Enemyes. + +_Per_. From whence? + +_Ten_. From _England_. + +_Fer_. A castle in the ayre. + +_Ten_. Doe you not believe it? + +_Fer_. I heard such a report, +But had no faith in't: a mere Potgun![5] + +_Bust_. Nay, sir, +'Tis certaine there hath bene great preparation, +If our Intelligence be true to us; +And a mighty Navy threatens the sea. + +_Fer_. What's that to us? +How long hath it bene a voyce they were at sea! +I have ventured to discharge the soldiers +Which to keepe here in pay upon the rumour +Of a great fleete a comming, would both pester +The Towne and be unnecessary charge +To the King our Master. + +_Ten_. But how if they intend us? + +_Fer_. 'Tis not probable: +The time of yeare is past, sir, now; more then +The middle of October. Had they meant us +We should have heard their message in loud Cannon +Before this time. + +_Bust_. I am of that opinion. + +_Ten_. But _Don Fernando_ and _Bustamente_, call to mind +The time hath bene, when we supposed too +The season past, they have saluted us +With more then friendly Bulletts; tore the ribbs +Of our Towne up, made every house too hott +For the Inhabitants; had a spoyle of all, +Spight of our hearts. + +_Fer_. One Swallow makes not Summer: because once +Our City was their prize, is't of necessity +It must be so againe? + +_Bust_. Or were the Navy +Greater, as fame gives out it is the fayrest +That ever danced upon these Seas, why yet +Should we suspect for this Citty? + +_Fer_. Because we dreame soe. + +_Ten_. If you did dreame it may be as neare truth: +I wish the contrary, but know them daring Enemyes. + +_Fer_. The world, we doe acknowledge, cannot boast +More resolution then the _English_ hearts +Seasond for action. + +_Ten_. _Francisco Bustamente_, how is the Castle? what strength? + +_Bust_. A fort impregnable, wanting neyther soldiers nor munition. + +_Ten_. Well, looke to't. + +_Fer_. How ere +That wilbe necessary; the fort lyes in +The mouth of danger, and it will become +You to discharge that duty, _Bustamente_. + +_Bust_. With my best care. + +_Ten_. I wish all well, and that you had not yet +Discharg'd your Companyes, _Don Fernando_. + +_Fer_. Come, come; putt of your Jelousy, +Drinke downe the remembrance. We forget +Our fleetes arrivall; send your feares away; +Nothing but wine and mirth should crowne this day. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +SCENE 2. + + + _Enter two Devonshire Merchants, as being in Sherryes_[6] + +1. Heare you the newes? + +2. Yes, that an English fleete +Is making up to Cales.[7] + +1. Our _Sherryes_ merchants, +Though few of us be heere, shall soundly pay +To the furnishing of this Navy. + +2. Nay, I assure you +Our shipps wilbe fast bound by _Spanish_ charmes +Not to get hence in hast. + +1. The Divell allready +Is furling up the sayles; would all the sackes +Which we have bought for _England_ were in _Devonshire_ +Turnd to small Beere, so we were but in _Tavistocke_ +To see it drawne out; were it nere so thin +I'de drink a health to all the Dons in _Sherryes_ +And cry a pox upon 'em. + +2. That word heard +By any lowsy _Spanish_ Picardo[8] +Were worth our two neckes. Ile not curse my Diegoes +But wish with all my heart that a faire wind +May with great Bellyes blesse our _English_ sayles +Both out and in; and that the whole fleete may +Be at home delivered of no worse a conquest +Then the last noble voyage made to this Citty, +Though all the wines and merchandize I have here +Were ith' Seas bottome. + +1. Troth, so would I mine. + +2. I nere could tell yet from what roote this huge +Large spreading Tree of hate from _Spayne_ to us, +From us agayne to _Spayne_, took the first growth. + +1. No? then lie tell you: let us season our sorrow +With this discourse. + +2. With all my heart I long for't. + +1. You shall not loose your longing: then, sir, know +The hate a _Spanyard_ beares an _Englishman_ +Nor naturall is, nor ancient; but as sparkes, +Flying from a flint by beating, beget flames, +Matter being neere to feed and nurse the fire, +So from a tinder at the first kindled[9] +Grew this heartburning twixt these two great Nations. + +2. As how, pray? + +1. Heare me: any _Englishman_ +That can but read our Chronicles can tell +That many of our Kings and noblest Princes +Have fetcht their best and royallest wives from _Spayne_, +The very last of all binding both kingdomes +Within one golden ring of love and peace +By the marriage of Queene _Mary_ with that little man +(But mighty monarch) _Phillip_, son and heire +To _Charles_ the Emperour. + +2. You say right. + +1. Religion +Having but one face then both here and there, +Both Nations seemd as one: Concord, Commerce +And sweete Community were Chaynes of Pearle +About the neckes of eyther. But when _England_ +Threw of the Yoake of _Rome, Spayne_ flew from her; +_Spayne_ was no more a sister nor a neighbour, +But a sworne Enemy. All this did but bring +Dry stickes to kindle fire: now see it burne. + +2. And warme my knowledge and experience by't. + +1. Spaines anger never blew hott coales indeed +Till in Queene _Elizabeths_ Raigne when (may I call him so) +That glory of his Country and _Spaynes_ terror, +That wonder of the land and the Seas minyon, +_Drake_, of eternall memory, harrowed th'_Indyes_. + +2. The King of _Spaynes_ west _Indyes_? + +1. Yes, when his Hands +_Nombre de Dios, Cartagena, Hispaniola_, +With _Cuba_ and the rest of those faire Sisters, +The mermaydes of those Seas, whose golden strings +Give him his sweetest musicke, when they by _Drake_ +And his brave Ginges[10] were ravishd; when these red apples +Were gather'd and brought hither to be payrd-- +Then the _Castilian_ Lyon began to roare. + +2. Had he not cause, being vexd soe? + +1. When our shipps +Carrying such firedrakes in them that the huge +_Spanish_ Galleasses, Galleons, Hulkes and Carrackes[11] +Being great with gold, in labour with some fright, +Were all delivered of fine redcheekt Children +At _Plymouth, Portsmouth_ and other _English_ havens +And onely by men midwives: had not _Spayne_ reason +To cry out, oh Diables _Ingleses_! + +2. It had not spoke such _Spanish_ else. + +1. When we did sett our feete even on their Mynes +And brought their golden fagotts thence, their Ingotts +And silver wedges; when each ship of ours +Was able to spread sayles of silke; the tacklings +Of twisted gold; when every marryner +At his arrivall here had his deepe pockets +Crammd full of Pistoletts; when the poorest ship-boy +Might on the _Thames_ make duckes and drakes with pieces +Of eight fetchd out of _Spayne_: These were the Bellowes +Which blew the _Spanish_ bonfires of revenge; +These were the times in which they calld our Nation +Borachos,[12] Lutherans and Furias del Inferno. + +2. Would we might now give them the selfe same cause +To call us soe. + +1. The very name of _Drake_ +Was a Bugbear to fright Children; Nurses still'd +Their little _Spanish_ Nynnyes when they cryde +"Hush! the _Drake_ comes." + +2. All this must needs beget +Their mortall hate to us. + +1. It did; yet then +We lovd them beyond measure. + +2. Why? + +1. Why, did not +_Spaine_ fetch gold from the _West Indies_ for us +To spend here merrily? She planted vines, +We eate the Grapes; she playd the _Spanish_ Pavine[13] +Under our windowes, we in our bedds lay laughing +To heare such Mynstrelsy. + +2. How then turnd the windes? +Why did this beauteous face of love in us +Put on so blacke a Visour of hate to them? + +1. Oh, sir, doe but looke backe to Eighty Eight, +That _Spanish_ glasse shall tell you, shew each wrinckle. +_England_ that yeare was but a bit pickd out +To be layd on their Kinges Trencher. Who were their Cookes? +Marry, sir, his Grandees and great Dons of _Spaine_, +A Navy was provided, a royall fleete, +Infinite for the bravery of Admiralls, +Viceadmirall [sic], Generalls, Colonells and Commanders, +Soldiers, and all the warlike furniture +Cost or experience or mans witt could muster +For such a mayne designe. + +2. Stay; Eighty Eight,-- +Thirty eight yeares agoe: much about then +Came I into the world.--Well, sir, this fleete? + +1. Which made the Sea fish wonder what new kingdome +Was building over theirs, beate downe the Billowes +Before them to gett thither. 'Twas such a Monster +In body, such a wonder in the eyes, +And such a[14] thunder in the eares of Christendome +That the Popes Holynes would needes be Godfather +To this most mighty big limbd Child, and call it +Th'Invincible Armado. + +2. Thats to say +A Fleete of Shipps not to be overcome +By any power of man. + +1. These were the Whales, +These were the huge Levyathans of the Sea +Which roaring came with wide and dreadfull Jawes +To swallow up our Kingdom, Shipps & Nation. +The fame of this Armado flew with Terrour +Riding on Envyes wing; the preparation +Was wayted on with wonder, and the approach +Shewd the grim face of horrour: yet gainst all these +Our Country and our Courages were armd. + +2. _St. George_ for _England_! + +1. And _St. George_ we cryde, +Albeit, we heard, the _Spanish_ Inquisition +Was aboord every ship with torture, torments, +Whipps strung with wyre, and knives to cutt our throates. +But from the armed winds an hoast brake forth +Which tare their shipps and sav'd ours.--Thus I have read +Two storyes to you; one, why _Spayne_ hates us, +T'other why we love not them. + +2. Oh, sir, I thank you. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +SCENE 3. + + + _Ent. Teniente, Don John, Henrico_. + +_Ten_. I ever feard some ill fate pointed at +This Citty. + +_Jo_. Makes the fleete this way? + +_Hen_. _Buzzano_! + +_Ten_. I did dreame every night of't, and the Ravens +With their unlucky throates never leave croaking +Some danger to us all. + +_Hen_. Where's _Buzzano_? Villaine! + +_Jo_. Be not discomforted. + +_Ten_. Don _Fernando_, too, +Hath cut our strength off, taken away our swords +Should save our throates. I did preiudicate +Too rashly of the _English_; now we may +Yield up the Towne.--Sirra, get you up to th'highest _Enter Buzzano_. +Turret, that lookes three leagues into the Sea, +And tell us what you can discover there. + +_Buz_. Why, I can tell you ere I goe. + +_Hen_. What? + +_Buz_. Why there are fishes and shipps too in the sea; they were made +for that purpose. + +_Ten_. The fellow doates? climbe quickly, sirra, and tell us +Whither any bend to this place: there's a fleete +Abroad; skud, rascall. + +_Hen_. Villayne, away; and cast your eyes into the Sea. + +_Buz_. Ile be hangd first; some wiser then some: mine Eyes into the Sea? +I see no reason for't. + +_Ten_. Why stayest thou?--this slave is without sence. +Get up and see, and report the truth. + +_Buz_. Thats another matter: I will orelooke you all presently. + [_Exit_. + +_Jo_. What were I best to doe? I doe not like these Navyes. + +_Hen_. 'Tis past question, +If they were kenn'd this way, that they intend +To make another meale of this Citty. + +_Ten_. The first was but a Breakfast: they have shrewd stomakes. +Oh for a lusty storme to bury all +Their hopes in the waves now! one good swelling Gust +Would breake their ribbs in pieces. + +_Jo_. No witches abroad? + +_Buz_. I see, I see, I see! + + _Enter Buzzano above_. + +_All_. What? + +_Buz_. Nay, I cannot tell what yet: +Something it is; I thinke it be a Towne. + +_Hen_. Some Iland in the Sea! + +_Buz_. It swims on the water. + +_Jo_. 'Tis the fleete: come they this way? + +_Buz_. Yes, th'are ships; I know 'em by their foule linen; now I see +them plainely; they come, they come, they come! + +_Hen_. How far off? + +_Ten_. Speake, sirra. + +_Buz_. If you would peace I might heare what they say; the wind serves +to bring every word they speake: they make towards, yes, towards this +Citty. A great fleete! stay, stay, look to your selves, Don: they spitt +fire allready, and have hung up a thousand flaggs of defyance. They are +at the fort, the castle, at the castle: would I were pelted to death +with Oranges and Lymons. + +_Ten_. Here comes _Don Fernando_. What newes? + + _Enter Fernando with Eleonora_. + +_Fer_. Assured danger, gentlemen, for all our men +Already are in a palsye and doe flye +They know not whither. They are _English_: +The Citty's allmost desperate. + +_Ten_. _Don John_, come with me +And helpe to encourage the remayning soldiers. + +_Fer_. New supply shall quickly cheare you hearts.-- +_Henrico_! + +_Hen_. Sir? + +_Fer_. In this confusion, when a thousand feares +Present themselves & danger with full face +Lookes on the generall Towne, let me locke up +This Treasure in your armes; &, for you have +At least an equall interest with mee +In _Eleonora_, in your fathers house +She may hope more security, being of strength; +For this storme cannot last. But in your love +She hath a stronger guard. + +_Hen_. This act of confidence +Binds me for ever to _Fernando_: come, +Halfe of my soule, for we two must not bee +In life devided. Though the Citty lye +At mercy of the Enemy, yet from +_Don Pedro Gusman's_ house not all mankind +Shall take thee from me. + + _Enter Buzzano and Spanyards flying_. + +_Buz_. They come, they come, they come! + +_Fer_. Committing this my Jewell to your trust +I must unto my charge: my blessing! + +_Ele_. Oh doe not leave me, sir; for without you +What safety can I have? you are my father: +Pray, stay you with me. + +_Fer_. Oh, my Girle, I cannot, +Dare not be so unfaithfull to the trust +His maiesty put me in, though I would stay. + +_Ele_. I feare if you goe hence all will not long be well. + +_Hen_. Distrust you me, Eleonora? + +_Ele_. No, indeed: +You ever had with me th'opinion +Of a most noble gentleman. + +_Fer_. What then? + +_Ele_. I know not what besides my feare; and that +Beggs I may share your fortune, since you may not +Take up such safety here as I have. + +_Fer_. Come, +You are to blame: this heaven that now lookes on us +With rugged brow may quickly smile againe +And then I shall revisite my _Eleonora_. +So, farewell. [_Exit_. + +_Hen_. Till then with greater care then were the Dragons +Supposd to watch the Golden Apples growing +In the _Hesperides_, shall _Henrico_ wayte +On his best loved. Oh, my _Eleonora_, +I would to heaven there were no war but here +To shoote love darts! each smile from this fayre Eye +May take an Army prisoners: let me give +My life up here unto these lipps, and yet +I shall, by the sweetnes of a kisse, take back +The same againe. Oh thou in whom alone +Vertue hath perfect figure, hide not day +In such a Cloud: what feare hath enterd here? +My life is twisted in a Thread with thine; +Were't not defenced, there could nothing come +To make this cheeke looke pale, which at your Eye +Will not fall dead before you.-- + + _Enter Buzzano_. + +Sirra, let all your care and duty bee +Employed to cheere this Lady: pray, be merry. + +_Buz_. Oh, sir, yonders such doings. + +_Hen_. Hell on your bawling! not a sillable to affright her, +or I shall tune your instrument there. + +_Buz_. Hele breake the head of my instrument! +Why, sir, weomen are not affraid to heare of doings. + +_Hen_. Still jarring? + +_Buz_. When the whole towne is altogether by th'eares you might give +me leave to jar a little my selfe:--I have done, sir. + +_Hen_. Putt on thy merryest face, _Buzzano_. + +_Buz_. I have but one face, but I can make a great many. + +_Hen_. My best _Eleonora_, I shall soone returne: +In the meane time be owner of this house, +The possesour. All danger, sweet, shall dwell +Far off: Ile but enquire the state of things +In the Citty, and fly back to thee with loves wings. + [_Exit_. + +_Ele_. I prithee call him backe. + +_Buz_. Signior _Henrico_, +She has something more to say to you. [_Redit_. + +_Hen_. To me, sweetest? + +_Ele_. _Henrico_, doe you love me? + +_Hen_. By this faire hand. + +_Ele_. And will you leave me, too? + +_Hen_. Not for the wealth of _Spaine_. + +_Ele_. Since I must be your prisoner let me have +My keepers company, for I am afraid +Some enemy in your absence, like a woolfe +May ceize on me. I know not whither now +I ere shall see my father: doe not you +Ravish yourselfe from me, for at the worst +We may dye here, _Henrico_; and I had rather +Fall in your eye than in your absence be +Dishonord; if the destinyes have not +Spun out a longer thread, lets dye together. + +_Hen_. Oh doe not racke my soule with these sad accents. +Am I _Henrico_? there is not any place +Can promise such security as this +To _Eleonora_. Doe not talke of dying, +Our best dayes are to come: putt on thy quiet, +And be above the reach of a misfortune. +Ile presently wayte on thee, by this kisse. + +_Buz_. Would I might keepe your oath: so please you, lady, +_Buzzano_ will sweare too. + +_Hen_. What? + +_Buz_. That you'le be there and here agen presently. + +_Hen_. Attend here, sirra. + +_Buz_. If you must needes goe, pray, sir, keepe yourselfe out of +Gun-shott. + +_Hen_. Mind you your charge. + +_Buz_. You shall heare a good report of my piece, I warrant you. +Take heed you be not sent to heaven with a powder: a company of hott +shotts[15] are abroad, I can tell you. + +_Ele_. If you will goe may your successe be faire. + +_Hen_. Farewell; heaven cannot chuse but heare your prayer. + [_Exit_. + +_Buz_. Now what please you, madam? that I shall amble, trott, or walke? + +_Ele_. Any pace. + +_Buz_. Yet, if you would referre it to me, I'de use none of them. + +_Ele_. What wouldst doe? + +_Buz_. Why I would gallop or run, for I think long till I be at home in +our Castle of comfort. If it please you Ile lead you a hand gallop in +the plaine ground, trott up hill with you & racke[16] downewards. + +_Ele_. Talke not of rackes, prithee; the times present too many. + +_Buz_. Ride me as you will, then; I am used both to curbe and snaffle. + +_Ele_. I prithee tell me, _Buzzano_,--so, I heare thy master call thee-- + +_Buz_. He may call me at his pleasure, forsooth. + +_Ele_. Dost thou know the nature of the _English_? + +_Buz_. Both men and women: I travelled thither with an Embassadour. For +the men Ile not misse you a haire of their condition; and for the women +I know 'em as well as if I had bene in their bellyes. + +_Ele_. Are they not cruell? + +_Buz_. As Tygers, when they set on't: no mercy unlesse we aske them +forgiveness. + +_Ele_. That's somewhat yet. + +_Buz_. But not to you; that's onely to men; for lett the women fall +downe afore 'em never so often they'le rather fall upon them. Nay, some +of them are so spitefull they'le breake their owne backes before they +let 'em rise againe. + +_Ele_. Foole, I meane not your way. + +_Buz_. Keepe your owne way, madam; I meane the playne way. + +_Ele_. Are they not unmercifull in their natures to such as are in their +power, their Enemyes as we may be? + +_Buz_. Their enemyes as we may be in their power! I had rather be +cramm'd into a cannon and shott against their ships then you should +prove a witch & tell true now. The _Tartar_ is not halfe so grim; not +a _Turke_ would use us so like _Jewes_ as they will. +If it come to that once that they take the Towne +You will see _Spanish_ Dons heads cryed up and downe: +as they doe our Orenges and Lymons; and the woemens heads shall off, +too,--not a maydenhead of gold shall scape 'em. + +_Ele_. It is no valour to use Tyranny +Upon the conquerd: they have been reported +A noble nation; and when last the pride +Of this Citty adornd their victory, by command +Or their brave Generall, no outrage ever +The soldiers durst committ upon our persons: +Though all our wealth ran in full streames upon them +Our honours were preserved, or fame belys them. + +_Buz_. No matter what fame sayes, perhaps I know more than she does; +& yet, now you talk of valour, they are not comparable to us. + +_Ele_. How? + +_Buz_. Why, valour is but the courage of a man; courage is, as they say, +the spirit of a man; and the spirit of a man is the greatnes, as we call +it, of his stomake. Now 'tis well knowen to the whole world they feed +better and eate more then we: ergo, we have better stomackes then they. +But, see! we have talk't our selves at home already, and the point +(port?) is open. Will't please you enter, or shall I enter before you? +I am your man, madam. + +_Ele_. You know the way best:--whilst abroad they are +At fight, twixt hope and feare at home I warre. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + + +_Actus Secundus_. + +(SCENE 1.) + + + _Alarum; as the soft musicke begins a peale of ordnance + goes off; then Cornetts sound a Battaile; which ended + enter Captaine, Master of a ship, Dick Pike, with musketts_. + +_Cap_. Fought bravely, countrymen! Honour all this while +Sate in a Throne of smoake with sparckling eyes +Looking upon your courages & admiring +Your resolutions, and now rewards your sweat +With victory. The castle groanes at heart; +Her strongest ribbs are bruizd with battering Cannons, +And she hath tane into her bowells fire +Enough to melt her. + +_Ma_. My Lord came bravely up to her & shewd a spirit +That commands danger; his honorable example +Gave us new hearts. + +_Sol_. Faith, give the _Spanyards_ their due; they entertaind us +handsomely with hott meat; 'twas no cold welcome. + +_Pike_. But I would not willingly swallow their plums; they would rise +shrewdly in a man's stomacke. + +_Cap_. At the first shott, when the _Convertine_ came in, 3 men were +killd. + +_Ma_. At the second 4, was't not? + +_Cap_. At the third two more: one salutation +Came so close that, with the very wind, +My hands have almost lost the sense of feeling. +_Jewell_, thou mad'st thy muskett spitt fire bravely. + +_Ma_. And my _Devonshire_ blade, honest _Dick Pike_, +Spard not his Sugar pellets among my _Spanyards_. + +_Cap_. He did like a soldier, as he that chargd his muskett told me: +in this service he hath dischargd 70 bulletts. + +_Pike_. I did my part, sir, and wish I had bene able to have layd 'em +on thicker; but I have lynd somebodyes gutts, much good doe 'em with it; +some of them have wishd well to me. + +_Cap_. Art hurt? + +_Ma_. Where? + +_Pike_. Nowhere; one of my flanckes itches a little; if a piece of lead +have crept in to hide it selfe cowardly I am not much in debt for't. + +_Cap_. Let my Surgeons search it. + +_Pike_. Search a pudding for plums; let my flesh alone; perhaps it wants +souldering. Shall we to't agen: I have halfe a score pills for my +_Spanyards_--better then purging comfitts. + + _Enter a Soldier_. + +_Cap_. What newes? + +_Sol_. The fort is yielded. + +_Pike_. They have bene speechlesse a good while; I thought they'de yield +up the ghost shortly. + +_Sol_. But on condition to march away with flying colours, which was +granted. + +_Cap_. What's become of the Captaine of the fort? + +_Sol_. _Don Francisco Bustament_ is carryed aboord our Generalls ship, +where he had a soldier like welcome; but he & all his company are put +over to _Port Reall_ upon the maine land because they should not succour +the Citty. + +_Cap_. Unles he will swim to th'Iland.--And how fares the _Convertine_? + +_Sol_. Her shroudes are torne to pieces & her tacklings to raggs. + +_Cap_. No matter; she carryes the more honour. + +_Sol_. 5 hundred Bulletts sticke in her sides. + +_Pike_. 'Tis well they scaped her heart, lying all the fight little more +than pistoll shott from 'em; her Starboard still to the fort & at least +200 Musketts playing upon her. I wish'd heartily some of our London +roaring Boyes[17] had bene in the heate of't. + +_Sol_. Wouldst have 'em twice burnt. + +_Pike_. They should have found a difference betwixt the smoake of +Tobacco and of a muskett; another manner of noise than _dam me & refuse +me_[18], which they vomitt dayly. It might have done some of 'em good, +for by that meanes they might have prayd heartily once in their lives. + +_Cap_. The _Whitehall_[19] men did good service. + +_Ma_. Who? the Collyers? + +_Sol_. 4000 Bulletts their ordnance & the _Hollanders_ dischargd upon +the Castle. + +_Cap_. 'Twas well done of all sides, Bullyes[20]: but, since our forces +are landed, let it be your care to looke well to the Ships: and honest +_Dick_ of _Devonshire_ be not too carelesse of your hurts; he meanes to +fight againe that provides for his recovery soonest. Hold thee, here is +something to pay the Surgeon and to wash your wound withall. + +_Pike_. My noble Captaine, I'le have care of my owne and drinke your +health with it. + +_Ma_. Thou deservest more than common encouragement: prithee, remember +me too. + + [_Exeunt Capt. & Mast_. + +_Pike_. Why, now am I sorry I have no more hurt, gentlemen; but I tooke +it as earnest to receive more if occasion bee. I have but a barrell to +bestow among my Dons; while that lasts let 'em come & welcome,--the +drinke shalbe spicd to their hands. Their complexions are blacke, they +shall want no Balls to wash their faces; if any doe light in their +bodies they may chance be scourd all over. + +_Sol_. 2. We may hap to be in the suddes ourselves. + +_Pike_. There will be charges savd then; for my part I am but one, and +there are shotts enough. + +_Sol_. 2. More by a score then I hope wilbe payd these two dayes. + +_Pike_. Talke not of paying: here's more then a month comes to. Well, +if our service be done, & there be any other liquor to be gott, wele +drinke no salt water as long as this lasts. + +_Sol_. 2. Come, let's have a dish to our countrymen & let's remember +_Tavestock_. + +_Pike_. Godamercy for that, boy. A match, a match! + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +(SCENE 2.) + + + _Enter Henrico Gusman, his sword drawne, & Eleonora_. + +_Hen_. Yet the Citty is safe enough; feare not, _Eleonora_; +The Bullets make no noyse here: if the Towne +Should yield her strength up to th'invader, thou +Art lockd up like a spirit in a Christall: +Not an enchanted Castle, held up by +Strong charme, is halfe so safe. This house, though now +It carry not the figure & faire shape +Which the first workeman gave it, eating Time +Having devourd the face of't, is within +A Sanctuary, & hath so much cunning +Couchd in the body not a Laborinth +Is so full of Meanders. + +_Ele_. Sir, your presence +Confirmes me in opinion of my safety; +Not of my life so much, for that's a thing +I owe to nature & should one day be +A-weary of it; like to Innes we take +Our houses up, having but here a place +Of _Lodging_ not of _dwelling_:--but of _honour_ +You give me my assurance, for in such +A time of thicke confusions I much feare +That might be hazarded. And who knowes what +The soldier that hath no lawe but that +Of cruelty and rapine, when like a Bird +Of prey his Tallents are possessd of one +So weake as I am-- + +_Hen_. He that durst offend +Thee with a sillable or but fright that bloud +Out of thy Cheekes to seeke another place, +Not daring to be seene there where it now +Is of itselfe sufficient to ravish +A mortall that with just eyes can looke on it, +Had better be a divell. But a haire, +The poorest part of thee & in this excellent +Because 'tis thine, should any dare to ravish +From these his soft companions, which the wind +Would be for ever proud to play withall, +H'had better dig his mothers coffin up +And with his teeth eate what the wormes have left. + +_Ele_. I know you will defend me. + +_Hen_. Will defend thee! +Have I a life, a soule that in thy service +I would not wish expird! I doe but borrow +My selfe from thee. + +_Ele_. Rather you put to Interest +And, for that principall you have credited +To _Eleonora_ her heart is paid backe +As the iust Usury. + +_Hen_. You undoe me, sweet, +With too much love; if ere I marry thee +I feare thou'lt kill me. + +_Ele_. How? + +_Hen_. With tendring me too much, my _Eleonora_; +For in my conscience thou'lt extreamely love me, +And extreames often kill. + +_Ele_. There can be no extreme of love[21], sir. + +_Hen_. Yes, but there may; and some say Jealousy +Runs from the Sea, a rivolet but deducted +From the mayne Channell. + +_Ele_. This is a new language. + +_Hen_. Have you not heard men have been killd with Joy? +Our griefe doth but contract the heart, & gladnesse +Dilate the same; and soo too much of eyther +Is hott i'th' fourth degree. + +_Ele_. Sir, your discourse +Is stuff of severall pieces and knitts not +With that you usd but now: if we can practize +A vertuous love there's no hurt to exceed in't. +--What doe you, Sir? + +_Hen_. Looke on thee. + +_Ele_. Why doe you eye me soe? this is not usuall. +Are you well? + +_Hen_. Well, never better. + +_Ele_. Pray heaven it bode me no unhappinesse! +How doth my father? + +_Hen_. He's very well, too; feare not. + +_Ele_. Still I read in your eyes-- + +_Hen_. What Babyes[22], prety one? Thy owne face, naught else; +I receive that way all this beauty into +My heart, and 'tis perhaps come backe to looke +Out at the window. Come, Ile winke againe, +It shall not trouble you:--hence my trayterous thoughts. + +_Ele_. Indeed you are not well. + +_Hen_. Indeed I am not; all's not well within me. +Why should I be a villaine? _Eleonora_ +Doe not looke on me; turne those eyes away, +They would betray thee to thy sorrow; or +Lett me by parting carry along with me +That which to know undoes thee. + +_Ele_. Are you not hurt? + +_Hen_. Yes. + +_Ele_. Good heaven defend! I have a soveraigne Balme. + [_Exit_. + +_Hen_. Vanish, you ugly shapes, & with her presence +Quitt your sharp stings! into what monstrous creature +Feele I myself a-growing! yet I cannot +Force backe the streame, it comes so fast upon me; +I cannot. + + _Enter Eleonora_. + +_Ele_. Here, good _Henrico_, let me see your wound. + +_Hen_. No, I am well againe; thankes, my best love. +Come, let us walke and talke; I had a fancy, +But 'tis no matter:--_Buzzano_! + + _Enter Buzzano_. + +_Buz_. Did you call? + +_Hen_. Yes, the Balme here-- + +_Buz_. What shall I doe with it? + +_Hen_. Lay it up safe; 'tis good for a greene wound +But mines a blacke one:--and d'you heare, sirra, +Draw up the bridge, give entrance unto none. + +_Buz_. All my fellowes are abroad, sir; there's nobody at home but I. + +_Hen_. No matter, let none enter; were my father +Brought with a whirlwind backe, he finds all shutt +Till I have done. + +_Buz_. Well, sir;--madam, all this is that you should not b' afraid: +you now see what a kind man he is,--he will suffer none to enter but +himselfe. [_Exit_. + +_Ele_. If all this proceed out of your care of me, how much am I bound +to acknowledge you. Sir, methinkes you minde me not. + +_Hen_. Yes, I doe nothing else but thinke of thee, & of my father, too, +_Don Pedro_. + +_Ele_. Ha! I hope he's well. + +_Hen_. I wish he were returned, my _Eleonora_, for both our sakes. + +_Ele_. The same wish I, sir. + +_Hen_. That then our Joys, which now like flowers nippd +With frost, hang downe the head as if the stalkes +Could not sustaine the toppes, they droope to much;-- +At his returne th'art mine. + +_Ele_. I am yours now +In holyest Contract. + +_Hen_. That's the ground we build on: +Faith, since allready the foundation's layd, +Let's work upon't. Y'are mine, you say, allready-- +Mine by all tearmes of Law, & nothing wanting +But the possession: let's not then expect +Th'uncertainety of a returne from France, +But be all one ymediately. + +_Ele_. I understand you not. + +_Hen_. Since y'are a Tree reservd for me what now +Should hinder me from climbing? All your apples +I know are ripe allready; 'tis not stealth, +I shall rob nobody. + +_Ele_. You'le not be a divell? + +_Hen_. No, I will but play the man with you: why, you know 'tis nothing. + +_Ele_. Will you enforce mine honour? oh, _Henrico_, +Where have you left your goodnesse? sure you cannot +Be so ignoble, if you thinke me worthy +To be your wife at least, to turne _Eleonora_ +Into a whore. + +_Hen_. Pish! some hungry Landlords would have rent before +The Quarter day,--I doe no more: by faire meanes +Yield up your fort; the Tenement is mine owne +And I must dwell in't. + +_Ele_. My feares pointed wrong: +You are no enemy, no wolfe; it was +A villaine I disturbed: oh, make me not +Find in your presence that destruction +My thoughts were so affrighted with. + +_Hen_. We shall have such adoe now! + +_Ele_. Your fathers house will prove no castle to mee +If you at home doe wound mee. 'Twas an Angell +Spoke in you lately not my Cheeke should bee +Made pale with feare. Lay not a lasting blush +On my white name:--No haire should perish here +Was vowed even now:--Oh let not a blacke deed, +And by my sworne preserver, be my death +My ever living death. _Henrico_, call +To mind your holy vowes; thinke on our parents, +Ourselves, our honest names; doe not kill all +With such a murthering piece. You are not long +T'expect, with the consent of men and angells, +That which to take now from me will be losse +A losse of heaven to thee. Oh, do not pawne it +For a poore minutes sin. + +_Hen_. If't be a worke, madam, of so short time, +Pray let me beg a minutes privacy; +'Twill be soone done. + +_Ele_. Yes, but the horrour of +So foule a deed shall never: there's layd up +Eternity of wrath in hell for lust: +Oh, 'tis the devill's exercise! _Henrico_, +You are a man, a man whom I have layd up +Nearest my heart: in you 'twill be a sin +To threaten heaven & dare that Justice throw +Downe Thunder at you. Come, I know you doe +But try my vertue, whether I be proofe +Against anothers Battery: for these teares-- + +_Hen_. Nay, then I see you needs will try my strength: +My bloud's on fire, I boyle with expectation +To meete the pleasure and I will. + [_He forces her in_. + +_Ele_. Helpe, helpe! + + _Enter Buzzano_. + +_Buz_. Helpe? what nightingale was that? did one cry out for helpe? +there's no Christian soule in the house but they two & my selfe; and +'twas not mine, I know by the smallnes of the voice; twas some woman +cryde out, & therefore can be none but my young Lady,--it was she as +sure as I am hungry; he's with her. But why, having one man did she cry +out for more? oh, our _Spanish_ ovens are not heated with one Bavyn.[23] +Well, I must say nothing; my young Cocke has bene treading. Ile tread +softly & see what they doe:--but, see! + + _Enter Henrico & Eleonora, loose haired and weeping_. + +_Hen_. What doe you looke after? + +_Buz_. Why, sir, I looke after a voyce that appeard to me even now, +crying "helpe,"--a very small one. + +_Hen_. If what thou seest or heard'st be ever muttered by thee +Though in thy sleep, villaine, Ile pistol thee. + +_Buz_. Hum, it will not be safe to dreame of a knave shortly. Are you so +good at a gun? if you use this too often your birding piece will scarce +carry a yard levell. + +_Hen_. Come, dresse your hayre up & be wise at last: +No more, I have done. + +_Buz_. So I thinke in my conscience,--he hath done with her. + +_Hen_. If you can be so simple to proclaime it, +I can be impudent. + +_Ele_. Yet dar'st thou live? & doe I live to see +Myselfe the shame of weomen? have I not +Wept teares enough to drowne me? then let fire +Enthrone it selfe within me & beget +Prodigious Cometts, that with flaming haires +May threaten danger to thee! + +_Hen_. Nay, nay, nay, if you be so hott Ile brave you: like wine that's +burnt you must be set light by, & then you'le come to a temper. + [_Exit_. + +_Ele_. Oh, helpe me out of hell! + +_Buz_. Sh'has bene at Barleybreake.[24]--Madam I must say nothing: +--there is a Pistol and so forth:--but if you have occasion to use me, +try mee; if I doe not prove an honester man to you then my Master, +would my Cod piece point were broake. I know what I know, and yet Ile +tell no tales;--but if ever I come to speake once--I say nothing. + +_Ele_. Oh that I could not breath! how can I have +A Joy in life whose honour's in the Grave! + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +(SCENE 3.) + + + _Enter Pike with his sword in his hand, a Cloake in his Arme_. + +_Pike_. The freshnes of this Ayre does well after the saltnes of the +Sea. A pleasant Country, too, to looke upon, & would serve well to live +upon if a man had it & knew how to place it out of this hott Clymate! I +would I had a matter, or a Mannour, indeede, of a 1,000 acres of these +woodlands & roome to sett it in _Devonshire_; I would compare with any +prince betweene _Tavistoke_ & _Parradice_ for an Orchard. But I could +wish I were not alone here in this Conceit, dreaming of Golden Apples, +least they prove bitter fruite. Whether are our land soldiers straggeld, +troe? I would faine sett eye on some of them; Ile venture a little +farther; _Devonshire Dick_ was never afraid yet.--How now, my hearts? +upon a retreat so soone? + + _Enter Three Soldiers_. + +1. I, to the shipps; we have our loades here of the best merchandise we +can find in this Quarter. + +2. Will you taste a Lymon? excellent good to coole you. + +_Pike_. They are goodly ones; where gott you them? + +3. A little above here in an Orchard, where we left some of our Company. + +_Pike_. But may one goe safe, without danger? + +1. As safely as ever you gatherd nutts in _England_; the _Spaniards_ +are all fled. + +2. Not soe much as the leg of a _Spanyard_ left to squayle at their +owne appletrees. + [_Exeunt Soldiers_. + +_Pike_. Ile have a pull at these pomcitrons for my noble Captaine; +& if I had a Porters basket full of 'em I would count them no burthen +in requitall of some part of the love he hath shewen me. + + [_Exit_. + + + +(SCENE 4.) + + + _Enter 3 other Soldiers_. + +1. They cannot be far before us, I am sure. + +2. But for the hedge we might descry them within two muskett shott. + +3. Pray God the enemy be not within one musket shott of us behind their +hedges; for I am sure I saw an Harquebuse whip ore the way before us but +even now. Oh, oh! + + [_Three or 4 shott dischargd, 2 soldiers slaine, + the other falls on his belly_. + + _Enter Pike_. + +_Pike_. Are you bouncing? Ile no further. Sure these can be no +Crowkeepers nor birdscarers from the fruite! what rascalls were my +Countrymen to tell me there was no danger!--alas, what's here? 3 of +our soldiers slaine! dead, shott through the very bowells! so, is this +quite dead too? poore wretches, you have payd for your Capon sauce. + +3. Oh, oh! + +_Pike_. Here's some life in yt yet: what cheare? how is't, my heart of +gold? speake, man, if thou canst; looke this way; I promise thee 'tis an +honest man & a true _Englishman_ that speakes to thee. Thou look'st away +as if thou didst not trust me: I prithee speake to me any thing, Ile +take thy word & thanke the, too. Alas, I feare he's past it; he strives +and cannot speake.--'Tis good to shift this ground; they may be charging +more hidden villany while I stand prating heere.--He breathes still; +come, thou shalt not stay behind for want of leggs or shoulders to beare +thee. If there be surgery in our ships to recover the use of thy tongue, +thou mayst one day acknowledge a man & a Christian in honest _Dicke of +Devonshire_. Come along;--nay now I feare my honesty is betrayd;--a +horseman proudly mounted makes towards me, and 'tis a Don that thinkes +himselfe as brave as _St. Jaques_. What shall I doe? there is no +starting; I must stand th'encounter.--Lye still a while & pray if thou +canst, while I doe my best to save my owne & the litle breath thou hast +left. But I am in that prevented too: his breath's quite gone allready, +and all the Christian duty I have now left for thee is to close thy eyes +with a short prayer: mayst thou be in heaven, Amen.--Now _Don Diego, & +Don Thunderbolt_, or _Don Divell_, I defye thee. + + _Enter Don John arm'd. Pike drawes & wrapps + his Cloake about his arme_. + +_Jo_. Oh viliaco, diable, _Anglese_! + + [_They fight_. + +_Pike_. A pox upon thee, _Hispaniola_! Nay, if you be no better in the +Reare then in the Van I shall make no doubt to vanquish, & vanquash you, +too, before we part, my doughty _Don Diego_. + [_He hath him downe, & disarmes him_. + +_Jo_. Mercy, _Englishman_, oh spare my life! pardonne moye je vous pre. + +_Pike_. And take your goods? is that your meaning, _Don_, it shall be +so; your horse and weapons I will take, but no pilferage. I am no +pocketeer, no diver into slopps: yet you may please to empty them your +selfe, good _Don_, in recompense of the sweet life I give you; you +understand me well. This coyne may passe in _England_: what is your +Donship calld, I pray. + +_Jo_. _Don John_, a knight of _Spaine_. + +_Pike_. A knight of _Spaine_! and I a Squire of _Tavestock_: well, _Don +John_, I am a little in hast & am unmannerly constreynd to leave your +_Castilian_ on foote, while my _Devonshire_ worship shall teach your +_Spanish_ Jennett an _English_ gallop. A dios, signior.-- + + _Enter_ 12 _musketiers_. + +Oh what a tyde of fortunes spight am I +Now to swim through! beare up yet, Jovyall heart, +And while thou knowest heavenly mercy doe not start. +Once more let me embrace you, signior. + +1. I say he is an _Englishman_: lett's shoote him. + +2. I say the other is a _Spanyard_ & _Don John_; & we dare not shoote +the one for feare of killing th'other. + +_Jo_. Oh hold and spare us both, for we are frends. + +1. But by your leave we will part your embraces: so disarme, disarme. + +_Jo_. I thanke you, Countrymen; I hope you'le trust my honour with my +armes. + +1. Yes, take them signior; but you will yeild the _Englishman_ our +prisoner? + +_Jo_. Yes, with a Villaines marke. [_He woundes him_. + +1. A villaines mark, indeed! wound a disarmed souldier! + +_Jo_. He triumphd in the odds he had of me, +And he shall know that from the _Spanish_ race +Revenge, though nere so bloudy, is not base. +Away with him +A prisoner into th'Citty! + +_Pike_. Where you please, +Although your Law's more merciles then Seas. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +(SCENE 5.) + + + _Enter Don Ferdinando, the Teniente, with + attendants; Bustamente brought in with a Guard_. + +_Fer_. _Francisco Bustamente_, late Captaine of the Castle, +Stand forth accusd of Treason gainst his Maiesty. + +_Bust_. It is a language I not understand +And but that by the rule of loyalty +Unto my king and country I am made +Attendant to the Law, & in this honourd +Presence, the Governour & _Teniente_, +Under whose jurisdiction I hold place, +I would not beare nor heare it. + +_Fer_. I'de be glad +You could as easily acquitt your selfe +Of guilt as stand up in your owne defence; +But, _Bustamente_, when it doth appeare +To law & reason, on which law is grounded, +Your great offence in daring to betray +The Spanish honour unto Infamy, +In yeilding up the fort on such slight cause, +You can no lesse then yeild yourselfe most guilty. + +_Bust_. Farre be it from your thought, my honourd Lord, +To wrest the hazardous fortune of the warre +Into the bloudyer censure of the Law. +Was it my fault that in the first assault +The Canoniers were slayne, whereby our strength, +Our mayne offensive strength, was quite defeated +And our defensive part so much enfeebled +That possibility to subsist was lost, +Or by resistance to preserve one life? +While there was sparke of hope I did maintayne +The fight with fiery resolution +And (give me leave to speake it) like a Sodier. + +_Ten_. To my seeming your resolution +Was forwardest to yeild then to repell; +You had else stood longer out. + +_Bust_. We stood the losse of most of our best men, +And of our musketiers no lesse then fifty +Fell by the adverse shott; whose bodyes with their armes +Were cast by my directions downe a well +Because their armes should neyther arme our foes +Nor of our losse the sight give them encouragement. + +_Fer_. That pollicy pleades no excuse; you yet +Had men enough, had they bene soldiers, +Fit for a Leaders Justification. +And doe not we know that 6 score at least +Of those base Picaros with which you stuff'd +The fort, to feed, not fight,--unworthy of +The name of _Spanyards_, much lesse of soldiers-- +At once ran all away like sheep together, +Having but ore the walls descryde th'approach +Of th'Enemy? Some of the feare-spurrd villaines +Were overturnd by slaughter in their flight, +Others were taken & are sure to find +Our lawes as sharpe as either Sword or Bullet. +For your part, _Bustamente_, for that you have +Done heretofore more for your Countryes love, +You shall not doubt of honourable tryall, +Which in the Court of warre shalbe determind, +At _Sherris_, whitherward you instantly +Shall with a guard be sent.--See't done: away. + +_Bust_. The best of my desire is to obey. + + [_Exit with a Guard_. + + _Enter Don John, Pike (with his face wounded}, a Guard of musketts_. + +_Fer_. Whence is that soldier? + +1. Of _England_. + +_Jo_. Or of hell. + +1. It was our chance to come unto the rescue +Of this renowned knight, _Don John_, +Who was his prisoner as he now is ours. +Some few more of his mates we shott & slew +That were (out of their _English_ liquorishness) +Bold to robb orchards of forbidden fruite. + +2. It was a fine ambition; they would have thought +Themselves as famous as their Countryman +That putt a girdle[25] round about the world, +Could they have said, at their returne to _England_, +Unto their Sons, "Looke Boyes; this fruite your father +With his adventurous hands in _Spayne_ did gather." + +_Fer_. 'Tis a goodly fellow. + +1. Had you not better have gone home without Lymons to eate Capons with +your frends then to stay here without Capons to taste Lymons with us +that you call Enemyes? + +_Pike_. I could better fast with a noble Enemy then feast with unworthy +frends. + +_Fer_. How came he by these woundes? + +_Pike_. Not by noble Enemyes: this on my face +By this proud man, yet not more proud then base; +For, when my hands were in a manner bound, +I having given him life, he gave this wound. + +_Fer_. 'Twas unadvisd. + +_Ten_. The more unmanly done: +And though, _Don John_, by law y'are not accusd, +He being a common Enemy, yet being a man +You in humanity are not excusd. + +_Jo_. It was my fury & thirst of revenge. + +_Fer_. Reason & manhood had become you better; +Your honour's wounded deeper then his flesh. +Yet we must quitt your person & committ +The _Englishman_ to prison. + +_Ten_. To prison with him; but let best care be taken +For the best surgeons, that his wounds be look'd to. + +_Pike_. Your care is noble, and I yeild best thankes; +And 'tis but need, I tell your Seignioryes, +For I have one hurt more then you have seene, +As basely given & by a baser person: +A _Flemming_ seeing me led a prisoner +Cryde, "Whither doe you lead that _English_ dog, +Kill, kill him!" cryde hee, "he's no Christian;" +And ran me in the bodie with his halbert +At least four inches deepe. + +_Fer_. Poore man, I pitty thee.--But to the prison with him. + +_Ten_. And let him be carefully lookt to. + + [_Exeunt omnes_. + + + + +_Actus Tertius_. + +(SCENE 1.) + + + _Enter Captaine, Hill, Secretary, Jewell_. + +_Cap_. Our Generall yet shewd himselfe right noble in offering ransome +for poore Captive _Pike_. + +_Sec_. So largely, too, as he did, Captaine. + +_Cap_. If any reasonable price would have bene accepted it had bene +given Mr. Secretary, I assure you. + +_Jew_. I can testify that at our returne, in our Generalls name & my +owne, I made the large offer to the _Teniente_, who will by no meanes +render him. Sure they hold him for some great noble purchace. + +_Sec_. A Barronet at least, one of the lusty blood, Captaine. + +_Cap_. Or perhaps, Mr. Secretary, some remarkable Commonwealths man, a +pollitician in Government. + +_Sec_. 'Twere a weake state-body that could not spare such members. +Alas, poore _Pike_, I thinke thy pate holds no more pollicy than a +Pollax. + +_Hill_. Who is more expert in any quality then he that hath it at his +fingers ends; & if he have more pollicy in his braines then dirt under +his nayles Ile nere give 2 groates for a Calves head. But without all +question he hath done some excellent piece of villany among the Diegoes, +or else they take him for a fatter sheep to kill then he is. + +_Cap_. Well, gentlemen, we all can but condole the losse of him; and +though all that we all come hither for be not worth him, yet we must be +content to leave him. The fleete is ready, the wind faire, and we must +expect him no longer. + +_Hill_. He was a true _Devonshire_ blade. + +_Sec_. My Countryman, sir: therefore would I have given the price of a +hundred of the best Toledoes rather then heare the misse of him at home +complayned by his Wife and Children. + +_Jew_. Your tendernes becomes you, sir, but not the time, which wafts us +hence to shun a greater danger. + + _Exeunt_. + + + +(SCENE 2.) + + + _Enter Pike in shackles, nightcap, playsters on his face; a Jaylor_. + +_Pike_. The fleete is gone & I have now no hope of liberty; yet I am +well refreshd in the care hath bene taken for my cure. But was ever +_English_ horse thus _Spanish_ bitted & bossd![26] + +_Jay_. Sir, the care of your keeper, by whom this ease hath been +procured, requires remuneration. + +_Pike_. Here's for you, my frend. + +_Jay_. I assure you, the best Surgeons this part of _Spaine_ affoords, +through my care taken of you; & you may thanke me. + +_Pike_. What an arrogant rascall's this!--Sir, I thought my thankes +herein had chiefly appertaind to the humanity of the Governour, & that +your especiall care had bene in providing these necessary shackles to +keepe me from running into further danger: these I tooke to be the +strong bonds of your frendship. + +_Jay_. Sir, I hope they fitt you as well as if they had bene made for +you. Oh, I am so much your servant that I doe wish 'em stronger for your +sake. + +_Pike_. 'Tis overwell as it is, sir. + +_Jay_. You are most curteous. [_Exit_. + +_Pike_. A precious rogue! If the Jaylors be so pregnant what is the +hangman, troe? By the time my misery hath brought me to climbe to his +acquaintance I shall find a frend to the last gaspe. What's here? a +Lady? are the weomen so cruell here to insult ore Captive wretches. + + _Enter Catelyna & Jaylor_. + +_Cat_. Is this the English prisoner? + +_Jay_. Yes, madam. + +_Cat_. Trust me, a goodly person. + +_Pike_. She eyes me wistly; sure she comes not to instruct her selfe in +the art of painting by the patternes of my face! + +_Cat_. Sir, shall I speake with you? + +_Pike_. Yes, Lady, so you will not mock mee. + +_Cat_. Indeed I cannot, but must needs acknowledge +Myselfe beholding to you. + +_Pike_. This I must beare; I will doe soe & call't my sweet affliction. + +_Cat_. Will you heare me, sir? I am the Lady-- + +_Pike_. Yes, I doe heare you say you are the Lady; but let me tell you, +madam, that Ladyes, though they should have tenderest sence of honour & +all vertuous goodnesse, & so resemble Goddesses as well in soule as +feature, doe often prove dissemblers & in their seemely breasts beare +cruelty & mischiefe. If you be one of those, oh, be converted; returne +from whence you came & know 'tis irreligious, nay divelish to tread & +triumph over misery. + +_Cat_. How well he speakes, yet in the sence bewraying +A sence distracted: sure his captivity, +His wounds, & hard entreaty make him franticke! +Pray heare me, sir, & in two words Ile tell you +Enough to win beleeife: I am the Lady +Of the Knight vanquished by you, _Don John_. + +_Pike_. Y'have said enough, indeed: pitty of heaven, +What new invented cruelty is this! +Was't not enough that by his ruthlesse basenes +I had these wounds inflicted, but I must +Be tortured with his wifes uniust reioycings! +'Twas well his politicke feare, which durst not come +To glory in his handy worke himselfe, +Could send your priviledg'd Ladyship. + +_Cat_. Indeed, you much mistake me; as I live, +As I hope mercy & for after life, +I come for nothing but to offer thankes +Unto your goodnes, by whose manly temper +My lord and husband reassum'd his life; +And aske your Christian pardon for the wrong +Which by your suffering now pleads him guilty. +Good sir, let no mistrust of my iust purpose +Crosse your affection: did you know my love +To honour and to honest actions, +You would not then reiect my gratulations. +And since that deeds doe best declare our meaning, +I pray accept of this, +This money and these clothes and my request +Unto your keeper for best meats and wines +That are agreable to your health and taste. +And, honest frend, thou knowst and darest, I hope, +Believe me I will see thee payd for all. + +_Jay_. Yes, my good Lady.--Loe you, sir, you see +Still how my care provides your good: you may +Suppose the Governours humanity +Takes care for you in this, too. + +_Pike_. Excellent Ladye I doe now beleive +Virtue and weomen are growne frends againe. + + _Enter Don John_. + +_Jo_. What magicall Illusion's this? 'tis she! +Confusion seize your charitable blindnesse! +Are you a prison visiter for this, +To cherish my dishonour for your merit? + +_Cat_. My lord, I hope my Charity workes for your honour, +Releiving him whose mercy spard your life. + +_Jo_. But that I'me subiect to the law & know +My blowes are mortall, I would strike thee dead. +Ignoble & degenerate from Spanish bloud, +Darst thou maintaine this to be charity? +Thy strumpett itch & treason to my bed +Thou seekst to act in cherishing this villaine. + +_Cat_. Saints be my witnesses you doe me wrong! + +_Jo_. Thou robbst my honour. + +_Pike_. You wound her honour and you robb yourselfe, +And me and all good Christians, by this outrage. + +_Jo_. Doe you prate, sir? + +_Pike_. Sir, I may speake; my tongue's unshackled yet, +And, were my hands and feete so, on free ground +I would mayntayne the honour of this Lady +Against an Hoast of such ignoble husbands. + +_Jo_. You are condemnd allready by the Law +I make no doubt; and therefore speake your pleasure. +--And here come those fore whom my rage is silent. + + _Enter Ferdinando, Teniente, Guard_. + +_Fer_. Deliver up your prisoner to the _Teniente_. +I need not, sir, instruct you in your place +To beare him with a guard as is appointed +Unto the publicke tryall held at _Sherrys_. + +_Ten_. It shalbe done. + +_Fer_. How long hath he bene your prisoner? + +_Jay_. 18 days. + +_Fer_. You & the Surgeons out of the Kings pay +Ile see dischargd.--You have, according to the Order, +Conveyd already _Bustamente_ thither +To yeild account for yeilding up the Castle? + +_Ten_. 'Tis done, my Lord. + +_Fer_. _Don John_, you likewise in his Maiesties name +Stand chargd to make your personall appearance +To give in evidence against this prisoner. + +_Jo_. I shall be ready there, my Lord. + +_Pike_. To _Sherrys_? they say the best sackes there. +I meane to take one draught of dying comfort. + +_Cat_. I hope you'le not deny my company +To waite on you to _Sherris_? + +_Jo_. No, you shall goe to see your frend there totter.[27] + +_Pike_. I have a suite, my Lord; to see an _Englishman_, +A merchant, prisoner here, before I goe. + +_Fer_. Call him; that done, you know your charge. + + [_Exit Jaylor_. + +_Ten_. And shall performe it. + + [_Ex. Fer., John, Catalina_. + + _Enter Jaylor & Woodrow_. + +_Pike_. Oh, Mr. _Woodrow_, I must now take leave +Of prison fellowship with you. Your fortunes +May call you into _England_, after payment +Of some few money debts; but I am calld +Unto a further tryall: my debt is life, +Which if they take not by extortion, +I meane by tortures, I shall gladly pay it. + +_Wo_. I have heard, & thought you by what I had heard +Free from feares passion: still continue soe, +Depending on heavens mercy. + +_Pike_. You doe instruct me well; but, worthy Countryman, +Once more let me give you this to remember, +And tis my last request:--that when your better stars +Shall guide you into _England_, youle be pleasd +To take my Country _Devonshire_ in your way; +Wheir you may find in _Taverstoke_ (whom I left) +My wife & children, wretched in my misfortunes. +Commend me to them, tell them & my frends +That if I be, as I suspect I shalbe, +At _Sherris_ putt to death, I dyed a Christian soldier, +No way, I hope, offending my iust King +Nor my religion, but the _Spanish_ lawes. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +(SCENE 3.) + + + _Enter Don Pedro, reading a Letter, & Manuell_. + +_Man_. Dear sir, let me have power to recall +Your graver thoughts out of this violent storme +Of passion that thus oerwhelmes your mind. +Remember what you are, and with what strength, +What more then manly strength, you have outworne +Dangers of Battaile, when your warlike lookes +Have outfac'd horrour. + +_Pedro_. Oh, my son, my son, +Horrour it selfe upon the wings of Death, +Stretcht to the uttermost expansion +Over the wounded body of an Army, +Could never carry an aspect like this, +This murthering spectacle, this field of paper +Stucke all with Basiliskes eyes. Read but this word, +'The ravisht _Eleonora_!'--does't not seeme +Like a full cloud of bloud ready to burst +And fall upon our heads? + +_Man_. Indeed you take too deepe a sence of it. + +_Pedro_. What? when I see this meteor hanging ore it? +This prodigy in figure of a man, +Clad all in flames, with an Inscription +Blazing on's head, 'Henrico the Ravisher!' + +_Man_. Good sir, avoid this passion. + +_Pedro_. In battailes I have lost, and seene the falls +Of many a right good soldier; but they fell +Like blessed grayne that shott up into honour. +But in this leud exploit I lose a son +And thou a brother, my _Emanuell_, +And our whole house the glory of her name: +Her beauteous name that never was distayned, +Is by this beastly fact made odious. + +_Man_. I pray, sir, be your selfe and let your Judgement +Entertaine reason: From whom came this Letter? + +_Pedro_. From the sad plaintiffe, _Eleonora_. + +_Man_. Good; +And by the common poast: you every weeke +Receiving letters from your noble frendes +Yet none of their papers can tell any such tidings. + +_Pedro_. All this may be too, sir. + +_Man_. Why is her father silent? has she no kindred, +No frend, no gentleman of note, no servant +Whom she may trust to bring by word of mouth +Her dismall story. + +_Pedro_. No, perhaps she would not +Text up his name in proclamations. + +_Man_. Some villaine hath filld up a Cup of poyson +T'infect the whole house of the _Guzman_ family; +And you are greedyest first to take it downe. + +_Pedro_. That villaine is thy brother. + +_Man_. Were you a stranger +Armd in the middle of a great Battalion +And thus should dare to taxe him, I would wave +My weapon ore my head to waft you forth +To single combatt: if you would not come, +Had I as many lives as I have hayres,[28] +I'de shoot 'em all away to force my passage +Through such an hoast untill I met the Traytour +To my dear brother.--Pray, doe not thinke so, sir. + +_Pedro_. Not? when it shall be said one of our name +(Oh heaven could I but say he were not my son!) +Was so dishonorable, +So sacrilegious to defile a Temple +Of such a beauty & goodnes as she was! + +_Man_. As beauteous is my brother in his soule +As she can be. + +_Pedro_. Why dost thou take his part so? + +_Man_. Because no dropp of honour falls from him +But I bleed with it. Why doe I take his part? +My sight is not so precious as my brother: +If there be any goodnes in one man +He's Lord of that; his vertues are full seas +Which cast up to the shoares of the base world +All bodyes throwne into them: he's no drunkard; +I thinke he nere swore oath; to him a woman +Was worse than any scorpion, till he cast +His eye on _Eleonora_: and therefore, sir, +I hope it is not so. + +_Pedro_. Was not she so? + +_Man_. I doe not say, sir, that she was not so, +Yet women are strange creatures; but my hope +Is that my brother was not so ignoble. +Good sir, be not too credulous on a Letter: +Who knowes but it was forgd, sent by some foe, +As the most vertuous ever have the most? +I know my Brother lov'd her honour so +As wealth of kingdoms could not him entice +To violate it or his faith to her. +Perhapps it is some queint devise of theirs +To hast your journey homeward out of _France_, +To terminate their long-desired marriage. + +_Pedro_. The language of her letter speakes no such comfort, +But I will hasten home; &, for you are +So confident as not to thinke his honour +Any way toucht, your good hopes be your guide +Auspiciously to find it to your wish. +Therefore my counsaile is you post before, +And, if you find that such a wrong be done, +Let such provision instantly be +Betwixt you made to hide it from the world +By giving her due nuptiall satisfaction, +That I may heare no noise of't at my comming. +Oh, to preserve the Reputation +Of noble ancestry that nere bore stayne, +Who would not passe through fire or dive the mayne? + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +(SCENE 4.) + + + _Enter Fernando & Eleonora_. + +_Fer_. Cease, Eleonora, cease these needles plaints, +Less usefull than thy helpe of hands was at +The deed of darkness,--oh, the blackest deed +That ever overclouded[29] my felicity! +To speake, or weepe thy sorrow, but allayes +And quenches anger, which we must now cherish +To further iust revenge. How I could wish +But to call backe the strength of Twenty yeares! + +_Ele_. That I might be in that unborne againe, sir. + +_Fer_. No, _Eleonora_, that I were so ennabled +With my owne hands to worke out thy wronge +Upon that wretch, that villaine, oh, that Ravisher! +But, though my hands are palsyed with rage, +The Law yet weares a sword in our defence. + + _Enter Henrico_. + +_Ele_. Away, my Lord & Father! see the monster +Approaching towards you! who knowes but now +He purposeth an assassinate on your life, +As he did lately on my Virgin honour? + +_Fer_. Fury, keepe off me! + +_Hen_. What life, what honour meane you? _Eleonora_, +What is the matter? Who hath lost anything? + +_Ele_. Thou impudent as impious, I have lost-- + +_Hen_. Doe you call me names? + +_Ele_. The solace of my life, for which-- + +_Hen_. A fine new name for a maydenhead! + +_Ele_. May all the curses of all iniured weomen +Fall on thy head! + +_Hen_. Would not the curses of all good ones serve? +So many might perhaps be borne: but, pray, +Tell me what moves you thus? Why stand you soe +Aloofe, my Lord? I doe not love to bee +Usd like a stranger: welcome's all I looke for. + +_Fer_. What boldnesse beyond madnesse gives him languadge! +Nothing but well-bred stuffe! canst see my daughter +And not be strooke with horrour of thy shame +To th' very heart? Is't not enough, thou Traytour, +To my poore Girles dishonour to abuse her, +But thou canst yett putt on a divells visour +To face thy fact & glory in her woe? + +_Hen_. I would I were acquainted with your honours meaning all +this while. + +_Fer_. The forreine Enemy which came to the Citty +And twice dancd on the Sea before it, waving +Flaggs of defyance & of fury to it, +Were nor before nor now this second time +So cruell as thou. For when they first were here +Now well nigh 40 yeares since, & marched through +The very heart of this place, trampled on +The bosomes of our stoutest soldiers, +The weomen yet were safe, Ladyes were free +And that by the especial command +Of the then noble Generall: & now being safe +From common danger of our enemyes, +Thou lyon-like hast broake in on a Lambe +And preyd upon her. + +_Hen_. How have I preyd? + +_Fer_. Dost thou delight +To heare it named, villaine, th'hast ravisht her. + +_Hen_. I am enough abusd, & now 'tis time +To speake a litle for my selfe, my Lord. +By all the vowes, the oathes & imprecations +That ere were made, studied, or practised, +As I have a soule, as she & you have soules, +I doe not know, nor can, nor will confesse +Any such thing, for all your Circumventions: +Ile answer all by Law. + +_Ele_. Oh, my Lord, heare me! +By all that's good-- + +_Fer_. Peace, _Eleonora_; I have thought the Course. +If you dare justify the accusation +You shall to _Sherrys_, and then before the Judges +Plead your owne cause. + +_Hen_. And there Ile answer it. + +_Fer_. There, if you prove the Rape, he shalbe forcd +Eyther to satisfy you by marriage +Or else to loose his periurd head. + +_Hen_. I am content. +And instantly I will away to _Sherrys_, +There to appeale to the high Court of Justice: +'Tis time, I thinke, such slanderous accusations +Assayling me; but there I shalbe righted. + +_Fer_. You shall not need to doubt it:--come, _Eleonora_. + + [_Exeunt_.[30] + +_Hen_. What will become of me in this, I know not: +I have a shrewd guese though of the worst. +Would one have thought the foolish ape would putt +The finger in the eye & tell it daddy! +'Tis a rare guift 'mong many maides of these dayes; +If she speed well she'le bring it to a Custome, +Make her example followed to the spoyle +Of much good sport: but I meane to looke to't. +Now, sir, your newes? + + _Enter Buzzano_. + +_Buz_. The most delicious, rare, absolute newes that ere came out +of _France_, sir! + +_Hen_. What's done there? have they forsaken the Divell & all his +fashions? banishd their Taylors & Tyrewomen? + +_Buz_. You had a father & a Brother there; & can you first thinke upon +the Divell & his Limetwiggs. + +_Hen_. Had, _Buzzano_? had a father & a Brother there? have I not so, +still, _Buzzano_? + +_Buz_. No, sir, your Elder Brother is-- + +_Hen_. What? speake, _Buzzano_: I imagine, dead. + +_Buz_. Nay, you shall give me something by your leave; you shall pay the +poast:--good newes for nothing? + +_Hen_. Here, here, _Buzzano_; speake quickly, crowne me with the +felicity of a younger brother: is he dead, man? + +_Buz_. No, he's come home very well, sir; doe you thinke I goe on dead +men's errands. + +_Hen_. Pox on the Buzzard! how he startled my bloud! + +_Buz_. But he is very weary & very pensive, sir; talkes not at all, +but calls for his bed;--pray God your Father be not dead!--and desires +when you come in to have you his Bedfellow, for he hath private speech +with ye. + +_Hen_, Well, sir, you that are so apt to take money for newes, beware +how you reflect one word, sillable or thought concerning _Eleonora_: +you knowe what I meane? + +_Bus_. Yes, & meane what you know, sir. + +_Hen_. What's that? + +_Buz_. Ile keepe your Counsaile + +_Hen_. My life goes for it else. + + {_Exeunt_. + + + + +_Actus Quartus_. + +(SCENE 1.) + + + _Enter Henrico (as newly risen)_. + +_Hen_. _Buzzano_! slave! _Buzzano_! + + _Enter Buzzano with Cloake & Rapier_. + +_Buz_. Signior, what a buzzing you make, as if you were a fly at +Bartholomew-tyde at a Butchers stall: doe you think I am deafe? + +_Hen_. No, but blind; do'st sleepe as thou goest? + +_Buz_. No, but I goe as I sleepe, & that's scurvily. + +_Hen_. Call my brother Manuell. + +_Buz_. Brother _Manuell_! + +_Hen_. How? pray (goodman rascall) how long have he & you bene Brothers? + +_Buz_. I know not; may be ever since we were borne, for your father used +to come home to my mother, & why may not I be a chipp of the same blocke +out of which you two were cutt? Mothers are sure of their children, but +no man is able to sweare who was his father. + +_Hen_. You are very lusty. + +_Buz_. I eate eringoes[31] and potchd eggs last night. + +_Hen_. Goe & call him. + +_Buz_. What? + +_Hen_. You hound, is he up? + +_Buz_. No, he's in Bed, and yet he may be up too; Ile goe see. + +_Hen_. Stay, and speake low.--How now? + + [_Buz. falls downe_. + +_Buz_. I can speake no lower unlesse I creepe into the Cellar. + +_Hen_. I'me glad you are so merry, sir. + +_Buz_. So am I; my heart is a fiddle; the strings are rozend with ioy +that my other young Mr. is come home, & my tongue the sticke that makes +the fiddle squeake. + +_Hen_. Come hither, leave your fooling & tell me truely: didst sleepe +to night or no? + +_Buz_. Sleepe? Not that I remember: Ile sweare (& my eyes should come +out as 2 witnesses) that I nere slept worse; for what with ycur +_Spanish_ flyes (the pocky, stinging musquitoes) & what with your skip +Jacke fleas, the nap of my sleepe was worne off. + +_Hen_. Didst heare nothing? + +_Buz_. Not in my sleepe. + +_Hen_. Collect thy sences; when thou wert awake didst thou heare +nothing? + +_Buz_. Nothing. + +_Hen_. Twixt 12 & one? + +_Buz_. 12 & one? Then was I in my dead sleepe, cursing the fleas. + +_Hen_. Or about one & two. + +_Buz_. That's Three:--Now the Beetle[32] of my head beates it into my +memory that as you & your brother _Manuell_ lay in the high Bed, & I +trondling[33] underneath, I heard one of you talke most stigmatically in +his sleepe--most horriferously. + +_Hen_. Right, now thou com'st to me,--so did I. + +_Buz_. And then once or twice the sleepy voice cryde out, "Oh it was I +that murthered him! this hand killd him!" + +_Hen_. Art sure thou heardst this? + +_Buz_. Am I sure these are my eares? + +_Hen_. And dar'st thou sweare thou heardst it? + +_Buz_. Lay downe 20 oathes, and see if Ile not take them. + +_Hen_. And whose voice was it did appeare to thee? + +_Buz_. Whose voice was it? Well said, yong Master! make an asse of your +fathers man! + +_Hen_. Come, come, be serious: whose voice? + +_Buz_. Whose voice? why then, if your windpipe were slitt now and opend, +there should the voice be found. I durst at midnight be sworne that the +Ghost of your voice appeard before me. + +_Hen_. No; me it frighted too; up stood my haire stiffe & on end. + +_Buz_. As a Catts does at sight of a dog. + +_Hen_. A cold sweat pearld in dropps all ore my body; +For 'twas my Brothers voice, & were I calld +Before a thousand Judges I must sweare +It could be no mans els. + +_Buz_. Why, then, I must sweare so, too. + +_Hen_. "Oh it was I that murthered him! this hand killed him!" + +[_Within, Man_] _Buzzano_! + +_Hen_. He's up. + +[_Man_.] _Buzzano_! + +_Buz_. I come. + +_Hen_. Helpe to make him ready,[34] but not a word on thy life. + +_Buz_. Mum. [_Exit_. + +_Hen_. So let it worke; thus far my wheeles goe true. +Because a Captaine, leading up his men +In the proud van, has honour above them, +And they his vassailes; must my elder brother +Leave me a slave to the world? & why, forsooth? +Because he gott the start in my mother's belly, +To be before me there. All younger brothers +Must sitt beneath the salt[35] & take what dishes +The elder shoves downe to them. I doe not like +This kind of service: could I, by this tricke, +Of a voice counterfeited & confessing +The murther of my father, trusse up this yonker +And so make my selfe heire & a yonger brother +Of him, 'twere a good dayes worke. Wer't not fine angling? +Hold line and hook: Ile puzzle him. + + _Enter Manuell & Buzzano_. + +_Man_. Morrow, brother. + +_Hen_. Oh, good morrow: you have slept soundly. + +_Man_. Travellers that are weary have sleepe led in a string. + +_Buz_. So doe those that are hangd: all that travell & are weary doe +not sleepe. + +_Man_. Why, Mr. _Buzzano_, why? + +_Buz_. Midwives travell at night & are weary with eating groaning +pyes[36], & yet sleepe not: shall I hooke you? + +_Man_. Hooke me? what meanst? + +_Buz_. These Taylors are the wittyest knaves that live by bread. + +_Hen_. And why witty, out of your wisdome? + +_Buz_. In old time gentlemen would call to their men & cry, "Come, +trusse me": now the word is "Come, hooke me"; for every body now lookes +so narrowly to Taylors bills (some for very anger never paying them) +that the needle lance knights, in revenge of those prying eyes, put so +many hookes & eyes to every hose & dubblet. + +_Man_. Well, sir, Ile not be hookd then now. + +_Buz_. Tis well if you be not. [_Exit_. + +_Hen_. _France_ is an excellent country. + +_Man_. Oh, a brave one. + +_Hen_. Your Monsieurs gallant sparkes. + +_Man_. Sparkes? oh, sir, all fire, +The soule of complement, courtship & fine language; +Witty & active; lovers of faire Ladyes, +Short naggs & _English_ mastives; proud, fantasticke, +Yet such a pride & such fantasticknes, +It so becomes them, other Nations +(Especially the English) hold themselves +No perfect gentlemen till frenchifyed. + +_Hen_. Tush, _England_ breeds more apes than _Barbary_.-- +How chance my father came not home with you? + +_Man_. He was too hard tyed by the leg with busines. + +_Hen_. What busines? + +_Man_. Tis but stepping into _France_. +And he perhaps will tell you. + +_Hen_. Perhaps? tis well: +What part of _France_ did you leave him in? + +_Man_. What part? why I left him at _Nancy_ in _Lorraine_. No, no, +I lye, now I remember me twas at _Chaalons_ in _Burgundy_. + +_Hen_. Hoyda, a most loving child +That knowes not where he left his father, & yet +Comes but now from him! had you left in _France_ +Your whore behind you, in your Table bookes +You would have sett downe the streets very name, +Yes, and the baudy signe, too. + +_Man_. Hum, you say well, sir. +Now you are up to th'eares in Baudery, +Pray tell me one thing, Brother; (I am sorry +To putt forth such a question) but speake truly; +Have you not in my fathers absence done +A piece of worke (not your best masterpiece) +But such an one as on the house of _Guzman_ +Will plucke a vengeance, & on the good old man +(Our noble father) heape such hills of sorrow +To beate him into his grave? + +_Hen_. What's this your foolery? + +_Man_. Pray heaven it prove soe: have not you defac'd +That sweet & matchles goodnes, _Eleonora_, +_Fernando's_ daughter? + +_Hen_. How defacd her? + +_Man_. Hearke, sir: playd _Tarquin's_ part and ravisht her. + +_Hen_. 'Tis a lye. + +_Man_. I hope so too. + +_Hen_. What villaine speakes it? + +_Man_. One with so wide a throat, that uttering it +'Twas heard in _France_; a letter, sir, informed +My father so. + +_Hen_. Letter? from whom? + +_Man_. A woman. + +_Hen_. She's a whore. + +_Man_. Twas _Eleonora_. + +_Hen_. She's, then, a villanous strumpet so to write, +And you an asse, a coxcomb to beleeve it. + +_Man_. Nettled? then let me tell you that I feare +I shall for ever blush when in my hearing +Any names _Henrico Guzman_ for my brother. +In right of vertue & a womans honour +(This deare wrongd Ladies) I dare call thee Villaine. + +_Hen_. Villaine! + + _They fight: Enter Ferdinand and attendants_. + +_Fer_. Part them, part them! + +_Hen_. Let me see his heart +Panting upon my weapons point; then part us. +Oh, pray, forbeare the roome. + +_Fer_. Fy, Fy! two Brothers. +Two Eaglets of one noble Aery, +Pecke out each others eyes!--Welcome from _France_! +How does your honourd father? + +_Man_. Well, my Lord: +I left him late in Paris. + +_Hen_. So, so; in _Paris_! +Hath he 3 bodyes? _Lorraine, Burgundy, & Paris_! +My Lord, his Highnes putts into your hand +A sword of Justice: draw it forth, I charge you +By the oath made to your king, to smite this Traytour, +The murtherer of my father! + +_Man_. I? + +_Hen_. Yes, thou: +Thou, slave, hast bene his Executioner. + +_Man_. Where? when? + +_Hen_. There, there; in _France_. + +_Man_. Oh heavenly powers! + +_Hen_. Oh, intollerable villaine! parricide! +Monster of mankind! _Spaniards_ shame! + +_Fer_. Pray, heare me: +Are you in earnest? + +_Hen_. Earnest? + +_Fer_. Be advisd. + +_Hen_. Lay hold on him, the murtherer of my father: +I have armd proofes against him. + +_Man_. An armd devill, +And that's thy selfe! Produce thy proofes. + +_Hen_. I will, sir; +But I will doe't by law. + +_Fer_. You are up allready +Too deepe, I feare, in Law. + +_Hen_. If you can, sett then +Your foote upon my head & drowne me, your worst: +Let me have Justice here. + +_Fer_. Well, sir, you shall. +_Manuell_, I can no lesse than lay upon you +The hand of my authority. In my Caroach[37] +You shall with mee to _Sherris_, 3 leagues off, +Where the Lords sitt to-morrow: there you must answer +This most unbrotherly accusation. + +_Man_. And prove him a false caytiffe. + +_Fer_. I will be both your guard, sir, and your bayle +And make no doubt to free you from this Viper. + +_Hen_. Viper! + +_Fer_. Y'are bound to appeare at _Sherris_, sir; +And you were best not fayle. +I have a certaine Daughter there shall meete you. Come. + + [_Exit Fer., Man., &_[38] + +_Hen_. Thither I dare you both, all three.--_Buzzano_! + +_Buz_. Sir? + +_Hen_. Saddle my Jennet? Ile to _Sherris_ presently. + +_Buz_. And I? + +_Hen_. And you; but I must schoole you, sirra. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +(SCENE 2.) + + + _Enter Pike, shackled, & his Jaylour_. + +_Jay_. Boon Coragio, man! how is't? + +_Pike_. Not very well & yet well enough, considering how the cheating +dice of the world run. + +_Jay_. I dare not, though I have a care of you, ease you of one Iron +unles I desire such Gyves my selfe. + +_Pike_. Las, if they were all knockt off I'me loaden with Gyves, +Shackles, and fetters enough for the arrantest theefe that ever lay in +my owne country in Newgate. + +_Jay_. Shackles, gyves, and fetters enough! I see none but these at your +heeles, which come on without a shoeing horne. + +_Pike_. Yes, at my heart I weare them--a wife & children (my poore +Lambes at home); there's a chaine of sighes and sobbes and sorrow, +harder then any Iron; and this chaine is so long it reaches from +_Sherrys_ to _Tavestock_ in _Devonshire_. + +_Jay_. That's farre enough in Conscience. + +_Pike_. Could I shake those Chaines off I would cutt Capers: poore +_Dick Pike_ would dance though Death pip'd to him; yes, and spitt in +your Hangman's face. + +_Jay_. Not too much of that nayther: some 2 dayes hence he will give you +a choake peare[39] will spoyle your spitting. + +_Pike_. Pheu! + +_Jay_. For, let me see, to-day is Sunday; to-morrow the Lords sitt, and +then I must have a care--a cruell care--to have your leggs handsome and +a new cleane ruff band about your necke, of old rusty iron; 'twill purge +your choller. + +_Pike_. I, I, let it, let it: Collers, halters, & hangmen are to me +bracelets and frendly companions. + + [_Knocking-within_. + +_Jay_. So hasty? stay my leasure.--(_Enter 2 fryers_) +Two fryers come to prepare you. [_Exit_. + +I. Hayle, Countryman! for we, though fryers in _Spaine_, +Were born in _Ireland_. + +_Pike_. Reverend sir, y'are welcome: +Too few such visitants, nay none at all, +Have I seen in this damnable Limbo. + +2. Brother, take heed; doe not misuse that word +Of Limbo.[40] + +1. Brother _Pike_, for so we heare, +Men call you, we are come in pure devotion +And charity to your soule, being thereto bound +By holy orders of our mother Church. + +_Pike_. What to doe, pray, with me?[41] + +1. To point with our fingers +Out all such rockes, shelves, quicksands, gulfes, & shallowes +Lying in the sea through which you are to passe +In the most dangerous voyage you ere made: +Eyther by our care to sett you safe on land, +Or, if you fly from us your heavenly pilotts, +Sure to be wrackt for ever. + +_Pike_. What must I doe? + +2. Confesse to one of us what rancke and foule impostumes +Have bred about your soule. + +1. What Leprosies +Have run ore all your Conscience. + +2. What hott feavers +Now shake your peace of mind. + +1. For we are come +To cure your old Corruptions. + +2. We are come +To be your true and free Physitians. + +1. Without the hope of gold, to give you health. + +2. To sett you on your feete on the right way. + +1. To _Palestine_, the _New Jerusalem_. + +2. Say; +Will you unlocke the closet of your heart +To one of us? chuse which, & be absolvd +For all your blacke Crimes on a free confession? + +1. To him or me, for you must dye to morrow. + +_Pike_. Welcome! +To morrow shall I be in another country, +Where are no Examiners, nor Jayles, +Nor bolts, nor barres, nor irons. I beseech you +Give me a little respite to retire +Into the next roome, & I will instantly +Returne to give you satisfaction. + [_Exit_. + +_Ambo_. Goe, brother. + +1. A goodly man! + +2. Well limbd & strong of heart. + +1. Now I well view his face did not we two +At our last being in _Plymouth_ in disguise, +When there the King of _England_ rode about +To see the soldiers in their musterings +And what their armes were, just before this fleet +Sett out, did we not see him there? + +2. May be we did; I know not; if he were there 'tis now out of my +memory. + + _Enter Pike_. + +1. Are you resolvd? + +_Pike_. Yes. + +2. To confesse? + +_Pike_. I ha' don't already. + +1. To whom? + +_Pike_. To one who is in better place +And greater power then you to cure my sicke +Infected part, though maladies as infinite +As the sea sands, the grassy spears on earth, +Or as the dropps of raine & stars in the firmament +Stucke on me he can cleare all, cleanse me throughly. + +2. You will not then confesse? + +_Pike_. No, I confesse I will not. + +1. We are sorry for you; +For Countryes sake this Counsaile do I give you: +When y'are before the Lords rule well your tongue, +Be wary how you answer, least they tripp you; +For they know the whole number of your shipps, +Burthen, men & munition, as well +As you in _England_. + +_Pike_. I thanke you both. + +2. Prepare to dye. + [_Exeunt Fryers_. + +_Pike_. I will so.--Prepare to dye! An excellent bell & it sounds +sweetly. He that prepares to dye rigges a goodly ship; he that is well +prepard is ready to launch forth; he that prepares well & dyes well, +arrives at a happy haven. Prepare to dye! preparation is the sauce, +death the meate, my soule & body the guests; & to this feast will I goe, +boldly as a man, humbly as a Christian, & bravely as an _Englishman_. Oh +my Children, my Children! my poore Wife & Children! + + _Enter Jaylour, & 3 Spanish Picaroes chayned_. + +_Jay_. Here's a chearefull morning towards, my brave blouds! + +1. Yes, Jaylor, if thou wert to be hangd in one of our roomes. + +_Jay_. On, on; the Lords will sitt presently. + +2. What's hee? + +_Jay_. An _Englishman_. + +3. A dog! + +1. A divell! + +2. Let's beate out his braines with our Irons. + +_Jay_. On, on; leave rayling, cursing & lying: had you not run from the +Castle the hangman & you had bene "hayle fellow! well met:" On! + +_All_. Crowes pecke thy eyes out, _English_ dog, curre, toad, hell +hound! + [_Exeunt_. + +_Pike_. Patience is a good armour, humility a strong headpiece, would +I had you all three, I know where. + + _Enter Bustamente shackled, & Jaylor_. + +_Bust_. Whither dost lead me? + +_Jay_. To a roome by your selfe: 'tis my office to have a care of my +nurse children. + +_Bust_. I have worne better _Spanish_ gaiters: thus rewarded for my +service! + +_Jay_. See, Capt. _Bustamente_; doe you know this fellow? + +_Bust_. No. + +_Jay_. The Englishman brought prisoner into the Citty, & from thence +hither. + +_Pike_. Oh, Captaine, I saw you at the fort performe the part of a man. + +_Bust_. And now thou seest me acting the part of a slave. Farewell, +soldier. I did not hate thee at the first, though there we mett enemyes; +and if thou & I take our leaves at the Gallowes, prithee letts part +friends. + [_A Table out, sword & papers[42] + +_Jay_. Come along, you two. + +_Pike_. Hand in hand, if the Captaine please: noble _Bustamente_, +at the winning of the fort we had a brave breakfast. + +_Bust_. True, but I doubt not we shall have worse cheare at dinner. + +_Jay_. When was ever any meat well dressd in the hangmans kitchen! + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +(SCENE 3.) + + + _Enter Fernando, bareheaded, talking with the Duke of + Macada; Duke Gyron, Medyna, Marquesse d'Alquevezzas; + 2 Gen., one with Pikes sword, which is laid on a table; + Jaylour, Teniente; Clarke with papers_. + +_Mac_. Where's the _Teniente_? + +_Clarke_. The Duke calls for you. + +_Ten_. Here, my Lord. + +_Mac_. 'Tis the King's pleasure that those fugitives +Which basely left the fort should not be honourd +With a judiciall tryall, but presently +(Both those you have at home & these in _Sherrys_) +To dye by martiall law. + +_Ten_. My Lord, Ile see it done. + +_Mac_. Dispatch the rest here. + +_Jay_. Yes, my Lord; Ile bring them carefully together to end +the busines. + +_Gyr_. Bring _Bustamente_ in. + [_Exit Jaylour_. + +_Mac_. My Lords, here's _Don Fernando_ relates to me +Two stories full of wonder; one of his daughter, +Fam'd for her vertues, faire _Eleonora_, +Accusing _Don Henrico_, youngest sonne +To noble _Pedro Guzman_, of a rape; +Another of the same _Henrico's_, charging +His elder brother _Manuell_ with the murther +Of _Pedro Guzman_, who went late to _France_. + +_Gyr_. Are all the parties here? + +_Fer_. Yes. + [_Exit Fernan_. + + _Enter Jaylour, Bustamente, Guard_. + +_Gyr_. Bring them in. + +_Mac_. _Bustamente_, +The King, our master, looking with sharpe eyes, +Upon your trayterous yeilding up the fort, +Putts off your Tryall here; you must abide +Longer imprisonment. + +_Bust_. I have allready quitted +My selfe, my lord, of that which you call Treason, +Which had in any here (he doing the like) +Bene a high point of honour. + +_Alq_. These braves[43] cannot serve you. + +_Gyr_. You must not be your owne Judge. + +_Mac_. You gave the _English_ +More glory by your base ignoble rendring +That fort up then our Nation gott from them +In all our undertakings. + +_Bust_. Heare me, my Lords, + +_Mac_. Sir, sir, w'have other anviles; _Bustamente_, +Prepare your selfe for death. + +_Bust_. For all my service! + +_All_. Take him away! + +_Bust_. You are Lyons & I your prey. + + [_Exit with Jaylour_. + +_Mac_. Which are _Don Pedro's_ sons? + + _Enter Fernando, Henrico, Manuell_. + +_Fer_. These two. + +_Mac_. Which youngest? + +_Hen_. I, my Lord. + + _Enter Jaylour_. + +_Mac_. You charge this Gentleman, your elder brother, +With murther of your father. + +_Hen_. Which I can prove. + +_Mac_. And hither flyes a ravisht Ladyes voice +To charge you with a Rape; the wronged Daughter +Of this most noble Gentleman. + +_Hen_. Let them prove that + +_Mac_. These accusations & the proofes shall meete +Here face to face, in th' afternoone. Meantime +Pray, _Don Fernando_, let it be your care +To see these gentlemen attended on +By a strong guard. + +_Fer_. The wrongs done to my selfe +Work me, my lord, to that. + +_Man_. I would your Grace would heare me speake a little. + +_All_. You shall have time. + +_Med_. Take them away, +And at their Tryall have the Lady here. + + [_Ex. Fer., Hen., Man., & Jaylour_. + +_Gyr_. Where is the _Englishman_? + +_Clarke_. The _Englishman_! + +_Alq_. What do you call him? _Dick of Devonshire_? + +_Med_. Because he is a soldier let him have +A soldier's honour; bring him from his prison +Full in the face of the whole Towne of _Sherrys_, +With drums and musketts. + +_Mac_. How many soldiers are in the Towne? + +_Clarke_. 5000. + +_Med_. Let 200 march hither along with him as his guard: where's +the _Teniente_? + +_Ten_. Here, my Lord. + +_Med_. Pray, see this done & in good order. + +_Ten_. I shall. [_Exit_. + + _Enter Don John below_. + +_Gyr_. What makes _Don John_ here? Oh, now I remember: +You come against the _Englishman_. + +_Jo_. Yes, my Lord. + + _Enter his Lady and a Gentlewoman above_. + +_Mac_. Give me the Note there of the _English_ advertisements. + + [_They all conferre_. + +_Lady_. Here may we see & heare: poore _Englishman_! +Sadnes! I cast on thee a noble pitty, +A pitty mixt with sorrow that my Husband +Has drawne him to this misery, to whom +The soldier gave life being at his mercy. + +_Gent_. Twas bravely done, no doubt he'le speed the better +For his mind. + +_Lady_. I visited him in prison, +And did with much adoe win from _Don John_ +This journey, for I vowd to see th'event +How they will deale with him. + +_Gent_. I hope most fairely. + + _Enter 2 drums, Teniente, divers musketts, Fernando + with Pike (without band, an Iron about his necke, 2 + Chaines manackling his wrists, a great chaine at his + heeles); Jaylour, 3 or 4 halberts. A Barre sett out_. + +_Clarke_. Silence! + +_Mac_. You see how much our _Spanish_ soldiers love you +To give this brave attendance; though your Nation +Fought us & came to hunt us to our deathes. + +_Pike_. My Lords, this, which in shew is brave attendance +And love to me, is the worldes posture right, +Where one man's falling downe setts up another. +My sorrowes are their triumphes; so in kings courts, +When officers are thrust out of their roomes, +Others leape laughing in while they doe mourne. +I am at your mercy. + +_Mac_. Sirra _Englishman_, +Know you that weapon?--reach it him. + +_Pike_. Yes, it +Was once mine; and drawes teares from me to think +How 'twas forced from me. + +_Mac_. How many _Spanyards_ +Killd you with that sword? + +_Pike_. Had I killd one +This Barre had nere bene guilty of my pleading +Before such Princely Judges: there stands the man. + +_Gyr_. _Don John_, sett he on you or you on him? + +_Jo_. He upon me first. + +_Pike_. Let me then be torne +Into a thousand pieces. + +_Lady_. My Husband speaks untruth. + +_Alq_. Sett he on you first? more coward you to suffer an enemy be +aforehand. + +_Pike_. Indeed in _England_ my countrymen are good at bidding stand; but +I was not now upon a robbery but a defence, sett round with a thousand +dangers. He sett upon me; I had him at my feete, sav'd him, and for my +labour was after basely hurt by him. + +_Fer_. This was examined by me, my Lords; +And _Don John_, thus accusd, was much ashamd +Of his unmanly dealing. + +_Gyr_. He may be now soe. + +_Lady_. I blush for him my selfe. + +_Alq_. Disgrace to _Spanyards_! + +_Mac_. Sirra, you _English_, what was the ship you came in? + +_Pike_. The _Convertine_. + +_Mac_. What Ordnance did she carry? + +_Pike_. 40 peeces. + +_Gyr_. No, sir, but 38; see here, my Lord. + +_Alq_. Right, no more then 38. + +_Mac_. Your fort at _Plymouth_ strong? + +_Pike_. Yes, very strong. + +_Mac_. What Ordnance in't? + +_Pike_. 50 Peeces. + +_Gyr_. Oh fye, doe not belye your country; there's not so many. + +_Alq_. How many soldiers keepe you in that fort? + +_Pike_. 200. + +_Mac_. Much about such a number.--There is a little iland before +_Plymouth_: What strength is that of? + +_Pike_. I doe not know. + +_Gyr_. We doe, then. + +_Alq_. Is _Plymouth_ a walld Towne? + +_Pike_. Yes, it is walld. + +_Mac_. And a good wall? + +_Pike_. A very good strong wall. + +_Gyr_. True tis a good strong wall, and built so high +One with a leape staffe may leape over it. + +_Mac_. Why did not your good navy, being in such bravery, +As it tooke _Puntall_ seize _Cales_? + +_Pike_. Our Generall +Might easily have tane it, for he had +Almost a thousand scaling ladders to sett up; +And without mayme to's army he might loose +A thousand men: but he was loath to robb +An almes-house when he had a richer market +To buy a conquest in. + +_Mac_. What was that market? + +_Pike_. _Genoa or Lisbon_: wherefore should we venture +Our lives to catch the wind, or to gett knockes +And nothing else. + [_They consult_. + +_Mac_. A poast with speed, to _Lisbon_, +And see't well mand. + +_Ten_. One shalbe sent, my Lord. + + [_Exit. The soldiers laugh_. + +_Alq_. How now, why is this laughter? + +_Fer_. One of the soldiers, being merry among themselves, is somewhat +bold with th'_English_, and sayes th'are dainty Hennes. + +_All_. [_Alq_.?] Hens! ha, ha, ha! + +_Mac_. Sirra, view well these soldiers, +And freely telle us, thinke you these will prove +Such hens as are your _English_, when next yeare +They land in your owne Country. + +_Pike_. I thinke they will not, +My lord, prove hens, but somewhat neere to hens. + +_Mac_. How mean'st thou? + +_Pike_. Let my speech breed no offence: +I thinke they would prove pulletts. + +_Gyr_. Dar'st thou fight +With any one of these our _Spanish_ pulletts? + +_Pike_. What heart have I to fight when tis beaten flatt +To earth with sad afflictions? can a prisoner +Glory in playing the Fencer? my life's at stake +Allready; can I putt it in for more? +Our army was some 14000 men +Of which more than 12000 had spirits so high +Mine never shall come neere them: would some of them +Were here to feed your expectations! +Yet, silly as I am, having faire pardon +From all your Graces and your Greatnesses, +Ile try if I have strength in this chayned arme +To breake a rapier. + +_Mac_. Knock off all his gyves; +And he that has a stomacke for _Spaines_ honour +To combate with this _Englishman_, appeare. + +_Pike_. May he be never calld an _Englishman_ +That dares not looke a divell in the face, [_One stepps forth_. +Come he in face of man, come how he can. + +_Mac_. Your name? + +_Tia_. _Tiago_. + +_All_. Well done _Tiago_. + +_Mac_. Let drums beate all the time they fight. + +_Lady_. I pray for thee. + +_Gent_. And I. + + [_They fight: Pike disarmes & tripps him downe_. + +_Pike_. Onely a _Devonshire_ hugg, sir:--at your feete +I lay my winnings. + +_Tia_. Diable! + + [_Exit, biting his thumb[44]; the soldiers stampe_. + +_Gyr_. Wilt venter on oanother? + +_Pike_. I beseech you +To pardon me, and taske me to no more. + +_Alq_. Come, come, one more; looke you, here's a young Cockerell[45] +Comes crowing into the pitt. + [_Another steps in_. + +_All_. Prithee, fight with him. + +_Pike_. I'me in the Lyon's gripe & to gett from him +There's but one way; that's death. + +_Mac_. _English_, What say you? will you fight or no? + +_Pike_. Ile fight. + +_All_. Give 'em roome! make way there! + +_Pike_. Ile fight till every Joynt be cutt in pieces +To please such brave spectators; yes Ile fight +While I can stand, be you but pleasd, my Lords, +The noble Dukes here, to allow me choice +Of my owne Country weapon. + +_All_. What? + +_Pike_. A Quarter staffe,--this, were the head off. + +_Mac_. Off with the head, and roome! +How dost thou like this _Spaniard_? + +_Pike_. Well: he's welcome. +Here's my old trusty frend: are there no more? +One! what, but one? why, I shall make no play, +No sport before my princely Judges with one. +More sackes to the Mill! come, another! what, no more? + +_Mac_. How many wouldst thou have? + +_Pike_. Any number under six. + +_All_. Ha, ha, sure he's mad! + +_Mac_. Dar'st coape with Three? + +_Pike_. Where are they? let 'em shew their faces: so; welcome! + +_Mac_. How dost thou like these chickens? + +_Pike_. When I have drest them +With sorrell sopps Ile tell you. + +_Lady_. Now guard him heaven! + + [_Drums. They fight, one is killd, the other 2 disarmed_. + +1. Hell take thy Quarter staffe! + +2. Pox on thy quarters! + +_Mac_. The matter? why this noyse? + + [_A noyse within of Diable Englese_. + +_Jay_. The soldiers rayle, stampe & stare, and sweare to cutt +His throat for all the Jaylors care of him. + +_Mac_. Make proclamation, my lord _Fernando_, +That who soever dares but touch his finger +To hurt him, dyes. + +_Fer_. I will, sir. [_Exit_. + +_Lady_. This is done nobly. + +_Mac_. Here, give him this gold. + +_Ten_. The Duke _Macada_ gives you this gold. + +_All_. And this. + +_Ten_. The Duke of _Medina_ this; Duke _Gyron_ this; +&, looke you, the Marquesse _Alqueveza_ as much as all the rest. + +_Alq_. Where's any of my men? give him your Cloake, sirra; +Fetch him cleane Band and Cuffs. I embrace thee, _Pike_; +And hugg thee in my armes: scorne not to weare +A _Spanish_ livery. + +_Pike_. Oh, my Lord, I am proud of't. + +_Mac_. He shalbe with a Convoy sent to the King. + +_Alq_. 4 of my gentlemen shall along with him: +Ile beare thy charges, soldier, to _Madrid_, +5 peeces of 8 a day in travell, & +Lying still thou shalt have halfe that. + +_Pike_. On my knees +Your vassaile thankes heaven, you, and these Princes. + +_Mac_. Breake up the Court till afternoon: then the 2 _Guzmans_ tryall. + +_All_. Come, _Englishman_. + +_Med_. How we honour valour thus our loves epresse: +Thou hast a guard of Dukes and Marquesses. + + [_Exeunt all_. + + + + +_Actus Quintus_. + +(SCENE 1.) + + + _Enter Teniente & Henrico_. + +_Ten_. The Lords are not yett risen: let us walke & talke. +Were not you better yeild to marry her +Then yeild to suffer death? know you the law? + +_Hen_. Law! yes; the spiders Cobweb[46], out of which great flyes breake +and in which the little are hangd: the Tarriers snaphance[47], +limetwiggs, weavers shuttle & blankets in which fooles & wrangling +coxcombes are tossd. Doe I know't now or not? + +_Ten_. If of the rape she accuse you 'tis in her choise +To have you marry her or to have you hangd[48]. + +_Hen_. Hangd, hangd by any meanes! marry her? had I +The King of _Spaines_ 7 Kingdomes, +_Gallicia, Navarre_, the 2 _Castiles, +Leon, Arragon, Valentia, Granada_, +And _Portugall_ to make up 8, Ide lose them +All to be rid of such a piece of flesh. + +_Ten_. How? such a piece of flesh? Why, she has limbes +Mad out of wax.[49] + +_Hen_. Then have her to some faire +And shew her for money. + +_Ten_. Is she not sweet complexiond? + +_Hen_. As most Ladyes are that studye painting. + +_Ten_. What meate will downe your throat, when you scorne pheasant, +partridge, woodcocke & coney? Would I had such a dish. + +_Hen_. Woodcocke and coney take to you, my _Don Teniente_; Ile none; and +because you keepe such a wondering why my stomach goes against the wench +(albeit I might find better talke, considering what ladder I stand upon) +Ile tell you, signior, what kind of wife I must have or none. + +_Ten_. Pray let me see her picture. + +_Hen_. Draw then this curtaine: +Give me a wife that's sound of wind and limbe; +Whose teeth can tell her age; whose hand nere felt +A touch lascivious; whose eyes are balls +Not tossd by her to any but to me; +Whose breath stinkes not of sweatmeates; whose lippes kisse +Onely themselves and mine; whose tongue nere lay +At the signe of the _Bell_. She must not be a scold, +No, nor a foole to be in love with Bables[50]; +No, nor too wise to think I nere saile true +But when she steares the rudder. I'de not have +Her belly a drum, such as they weave points on, +Unles they be taggd with vertue; nor would I have +Her white round breasts 2 sucking bottles to nurse +Any Bastards at them. + +_Ten_. I believe you would not. + +_Hen_. I would not have her tall, because I love not +To dance about a May pole; nor too lowe +(Litle clocks goe seldome true); nor, sir, too fatt +(Slug[51] shipps can keepe no pace); no, nor too leane, +To read Anatomy lectures ore her Carcas. +Nor would I have my wife exceeding faire, +For then she's liquorish meate; & it would mad me +To see whoremasters teeth water at her, +Red haird by no meanes, though she would yeild money +To sell her to some Jew for poyson. No, +My wife shall be a globe terrestriall, +Moving upon no axeltree but mine; +Which globe when I turne round, what land soever +I touch, my wife is with me, still Ime at home. + +_Ten_. But where will you find such a wife on earth? + +_Hen_. No, such a wife in the Moone for me doth tarry: +If none such shine here I with none will marry. + +_Ten_. The Lordes are come. + +_Hen_. I care neyther for Lords nor Ladies. + + _Enter the Nobles as before; Fernando, Manuell, Clarke, Jaylor_. + +_Mac_. Where are these gentlemen? sett 'em both to a Barre +And opposite, face to face: a Confrontation +May perhaps daunt th'offender & draw from him +More then he'de utter. You accuse your Brother +As murtherer of your father: where's the proofe? + +_Hen_. First call my fathers man in. + +_Clark_. What's his name? + +_Hen_. _Buzzano_. + +_Clark_. Call _Buzzano_ in! + + _Enter Buzzano_. + +_Buz_. Here I am, here. + +_Clark_. Stand out: whither goe you? + +_Buz_. To stand out. + +_Clark_. Stand there. + +_Mac_. Now what can he say? + +_Hen_. First, my Lord, heare mee: +My brother & I lying in one bed together, +And he just under us-- + +_Buz_. In my fleabitten Trundle bed.[52] + +_Clark_. Peace, sirra. + +_Hen_. About midnight I awaking, +And this _Buzzano_ too, my brother in his sleepe +Thus cryde out, "Oh, twas I that murtherd him, +This hand that killd him"! + +_Gyr_. Heard you this, sirra? + +_Buz_. As sure as I heare you now. + +_Alq_. And you'le be sworne 'twas he that so cryde out? + +_Buz_. If I were going to be hangd Ide sweare. + +_Clark_. Forbeare the Court. + [_Exit Buzzano_. + +_Mac_. All this is but presumption: if this be all +The shott you make against him your bullets stick +In a mud wall, or if they meete resistance +They backe rebound & fly in your owne face. + +_Med_. Bring your best forces up, for these are weak ones. + +_Hen_. Then here I throw my glove & challenge him +To make this good upon him: that at comming home +He first told me my father dyed in France, +Then some hours after that he was not dead +But that he left him in _Lorraine_ at _Nancy_, +Then at _Chaalons_ in _Burgundy_, & lastly +He said to _Don Fernando_ he was in _Paris_. + +_Fer_. He did indeed. + +_Mac_. What then? + +_Hen_. Then, when in's chamber we were going to bed, +He suddenly lookd wild, catchd me by the hand +And, falling on his knees, with a pale face +And troubled conscience he confessed he killd him, +Nay, swore he basely murtherd him. + +_Mac_. What say you to this? + +_Alq_. Now he comes close up to you. + +_Man_. He is my murtherer +For I am none, so lett my Innocence guard me. +I never spake with a distracted voice; +Nere fell to him on my knees; spake of no father, +No murtherd father. He's alive as I am, +And some foule divell stands at the fellowes elbow, +Jogging him to this mischefe. The Villaine belyes me, +And on my knees, my lord, I beg that I +And my white Innocence may tread the path +Beaten out before us by that man, my brother. +Command a case of rapiers to be sent for, +And lett me meete his daring. I know him valiant; +But I am doubly armd, both with a Courage +Fiery as his can be, and with a cause +That spitts his accusation full in the face. + +_Mac_. The combate in this case cannot be granted, +And here's the reason: when a man accuses +A frend, much more a brother, for a fact +So foule as murther (murther of a father), +The Law leapes straight way to the Challenger +To take his part. Say he that doth accuse +Should be decrepitt, lame and weake, or sickly, +The other strong and lusty; thinke you a kingdome +Will hazard so a subject, when the quarrell +Is for a kingdomes right? If y'are so valiant +You then must call the law into the field +But not the man. + +_Man_. I have done; let law proceed. + +_Mac_. This cannot serve your turne, say he does belye you; +He stakes against your body his owne soule. +Say there is no such murther, yet the Law +Fastens on you; for any man accusd +For killing of his father may be rackd +To draw confession from him. Will you confesse? + +_Man_. I cannot, must not, will not. + +_Mac_. Jaylour, take & prepare him for the racke: +Wele see it done here. + +_Hen_. You are righteous Judges. + +_Man_. Oh villaine, villaine, villaine! + + [_Exit with the Jaylour_. + +_Med_. Where's the wrongd Lady? + +_Alq_. Stand you still at the Barre. +You are now another man, sir; your scale turnes. + + _Fernando fetches in Eleonora_. + +_Mac_. Looke on the prisoner: doe you know him, Lady? + +_Ele_. Would I had nere had cause to say I know him. + +_Mac_. Of what doe you accuse him? + +_Ele_. As the murtherer +Both of my name and honour. In the hurry, +When the Citty (they said) was ready to be taken, +I being betrothed to this young gentleman, +My father brought me to his father's house, +Telling me their dwelt safety.--There dwelt villany, +Treason, lust, basenes! for this godlesse man +(The storme being ore) came in & forcd from me +The Jewell of my virgin honour. + +_Hen_. False! + +_Fer_. I would not have thee thinke (thou graceles wretch) +She, being contracted to thee, loving thee, +Loving thee far more dearly then her selfe, +Would wound her vertue soe, so blott her fame +And bring a scandall on my house & me, +Were not the fact most true. + +_Hen_. Most false by all that ever man can sweare by. +We falling out, I told her once I nere +Would marry her; & soe she workes this mischiefe. + +_Gyr_. You here stand chargd for ravishing her, & you +Must marry her or she may have your life. + +_Mac_. Lady, what say you? which had you rather have, +His life or him? + +_Ele_. I am not cruell; pay me my first Bond +Of marriage, which you seald to, & I free you +And shall with Joy run flying to your armes. + +_All_. Law you?[53] + +_Mac_. That's easy enough. + +_Hen_. Rackes, Gibbetts, wheeles make sausages of my flesh first! +Ile be ty'd to no man's Strumpet. + +_Alq_. Then you muste look to dye. + +_Mac_. Lady, withdraw. + +_Hen_. Well, if I doe, somebody shall packe. + +_Ele_. Oh me, unfortunate Creature! [_Exit_. + + _Enter Manuell to be rackt; Jaylour & Officers_. + +_Med_. _Don Manuell Guzman_ ere you taste the tortures, +Which you are sure to feele, will you confesse +This murther of your father? + +_Man_. Pray, give me privacy a little with my brother. + +_All_. [_Alq_.?] Take it. + +_Man_. O brother your owne Conscience knowes you wrong me: +Ile rather suffer on the Gallow Tree +Then thus be torne in pieces. Canst thou see mee +Thus worryed amongst hangmen? deare _Henrico_, +For heavens sake, for thine owne sake pitty mee. + +_All_. [_Alq_.?] What sayes he? + +_Hen_. Cunning, cunning, cunning Traytour! +In my eare he confesses all again and prayes me +To speake to you. + +_Mac_. Will you openly confesse? + +_Man_. No, no, I cannot. Caytiffe, I spake not soe: +I must not wound my Conscience to lay on it +A guilt it knowes not. Ile not so dishonour +My father, nor my ancestours before me, +Nor my posterity with such an earthquake +To shake our noble house. + +_Mac_. Give him the Law then. + +_Man_. Ile meete a thousand deaths first. + +_Hen_. Plucke, & plucke home, for he's a murtherous Villaine. + +_Man_. Thou worse, a divell. + +_Mac_. Racke him! + +_Man_. Oh stay! for heavens sake spread your mercy! +I doe confesse the murther; I killd my father. + +_All_. Take him off! + +_Man_. This hand stabbd him. + +_Mac_. Where? + +_Man_. Neere _St. Germains_ +In _Paris_, in a darke night, & then I fled. + +_Mac_. Thy owne tongue is thy Judge; take him away: +To-morrow looke to dye: send him a Confessour. + +_Jay_. Ile have a holy care of him. + + [_Exit Manuell, led by the Jaylour_. + +_Hen_. Who's now, my lords, the Villaine? + + _Enter Eleonora & Buzzano_. + +_Ele_. Oh Justice, here's a witnesse of my Rape. + +_Mac_. Did you see't, sirra? + +_Buz_. See't! no, sir, would I had; but when she was in labour I heard +her cry out "helpe! helpe!" & the Gamboll being ended she came in like +a mad woman, ruffled & crumpled, her haire about her eares; & he all +unbrac'd, sweating as if he had bene thrashing; & afterwards he told me, +my lords, that he had downe diddled her. + +_Hen_. I now am lost indeed, & on my knee +Beg pardon of that goodnes, that pure Temple +Which my base lust prophand, & will make good +My wrongs to her by marriage. + +_Mac_. What say you, Lady? + +_Ele_. He spurnd my mercy when it flew to him +And courted him to kisse it; therefore now +Ile have his life. + +_Fer_. That life, so had, redeemes +Thine & thy fathers infamy. Justice! my Lords. + +_Hen_. Cruell Creature! + +_Mac_. Take him away & lead him to his brother; +You both must die next morning. + +_Hen_. I deserve it; +And so that Slave, too, that betrayed his Master. + +_Buz_. Why should I not betray my Master, when he betrayed his Mistris. + +_Ele_. Get you gone, sirra. + + [_Exeunt Henrico & Buzzano_. + +_Mac_. You are dismissd: Faire Lady, +You shall have Law, your Ravisher shall dye. + +_Ele_. Oh that my life from death could sett him free! + [_Exit_. + +_Mac_. Pray, _Don Fernando_, follow her & soften +Her heart to pitty the poore gentleman: +The Crime is not so Capitall. + +_Fer_. Ile doe my best. + [_Exit_. + +_Mac_. That such a noble _Spanyard_ as _Don Pedro_ +Should be so cursed in's Children! + + _Enter Buzzano, Don Pedro, Fernando & Eleonora_. + +_Buz_. Hee's come, hee's come, my Lord! _Don Pedro Gusman_ is still +alive,--see, see! + +_Mac_. Let us descend to meet a happinesse +Crownes all our expectations. + +_Pedro_. Whilst I meet +A Thunder strikes me dead. Oh, poore, wrongd Lady, +The poyson which the villaine poures on thy honour +Runs more into my veines then all the Venome +He spitts at me or my deare Boy, his brother. +My Lords, your pardon that I am transported +With shame & sorrow thus beyond my selfe, +Not paying to you my duty. + +_All_. Your love, _Don Pedro_. + +_Mac_. Conceale your selfe a while; your sons wele send for, +And shew them deaths face presently. + +_Pedro_. Ile play a part in't. [_Exit_. + +_Mac_. Let them be fetcht, & speake not of a father. + +_Ten_. This shall be done. [_Exit_. + +_Mac_. Is your Compassion, Lady, yet awake? +Remember that the scaffold, hangman, sword, +And all the Instruments death playes upon, +Are hither calld by you; 'tis you may stay them. +When at the Barre there stood your Ravisher +You would have savd him, then you made your choyce +To marry him: will you then kill your husband? + +_Ele_. Why did that husband then rather chuse death +Then me to be his bride? is his life mine? +Why, then, because the Law makes me his Judge, +Ile be, like you, not cruell, but reprieve him; +My prisoner shall kisse mercy. + +_Mac_. Y'are a good Lady. + +_Med_. Lady, untill they come, repose your selfe. + + [_Exit Eleonora_. + +_Mac_. How now? so soone come back? why thus returned? + + _Enter Pike & a Gentleman, with Letters_. + +_Gen_. Our Journey to _Madrid_ the Kinge himselfe +Cutts off, by these his royall letters sent +Upon the wings of speed to all your Graces. +He lay one night since at your house, my Lord +Where, by your noble Wife, he had a wellcome +Fitting his greatnes & your will. + +_Alq_. I'me glad of't. + +_Mac_. The King, our Master, writes heere, _Englishman_, +He has lost a subiect by you; yet referres +Himselfe to us about you. + +_Pike_. Againe, I stand heere +To lay my own life downe, please his high Maiesty +To take it: for what's lost his fate to fall +Was _fortune de la guerre_, & at the feete +Of his most royal Maiesty & at yours +(My Princely Lords & Judges) low as th'earth +I throw my wretched selfe & begg his mercy. + +_Mac_. Stand up; that mercy which you aske is signd +By our most royall master. + +_Pike_. My thankes to heaven, him & your Graces. + +_Mac_. The King further writes heere, +That though your Nation came in Thunder hither +Yet he holds out to you his Enemy +2 friendly proffers: serve him in his dominions +Eyther by land or sea, & thou shalt live +Upon a golden pension, such a harvest +As thou nere reapst in _England_. + +_Pike_. His kingly favours +Swell up in such high heapes above my merit, +Could I reare up a thousand lives, they cannot +Reach halfe the way. Ime his, to be his Vassaile, +His Gally Slave, please you to chaine me to the oare; +But, with his highnes pardon & your allowance, +I beg one Boone. + +_All_. What is't? + +_Pike_. That I may once more +See my owne Country Chimneys cast out smoake. +I owe my life and service to the King, +(The king of _England_) let me pay that Bond +Of my allegeance; &, that being payd, +There is another obligation, +One to a woefull Wife & wretched Children +Made wretched by my misery. I therefore beg, +Intreat, emplore, submissively hold up my hands +To have his Kingly pitty & yours to lett me goe. + +_All_. [_Alq_.?] Let him ene goe. + +_Mac_. Well, since we cannot win you to our service, +We will not weane you from your Countryes love. +The king, our lord, commands us here to give you +A hundred pistoletts to beare you home. + +_Pike_. A royall bounty, which my memory +Shall never loose; no, nor these noble favours +Which from the _Lady Marquesse Alquevezze_ +Raynd plenteously on me. + +_Alq_. What did she to thee? + +_Gyr_. How did she entertaine thee? + +_Pike_. Rarely; it is a brave, bounteous, munificent, magnificent +Marquezza! the great Turke cannot tast better meat then I have eaten +at this ladies Table. + +_Alq_. So, so. + +_Pike_. And for a lodging, if the curtaines about my bed had bene cutt +of Sunbeames, I could not lye in a more glorious Chamber. + +_Mac_. You have something, then, to speake of our weomen when y'are in +_England_. + +_Pike_. This Box, with a gold chaine in't for my Wife & some pretty +things for my Children, given me by your honourd Lady would else cry +out on me. There's a _Spanish_ shirt, richly lacd & seemd, her guift +too; & whosoever layes a foul hand upon her linnen in scorne of her +bounty, were as good flea[54] the Divells skin over his eares. + +_Mac_. Well said: in _England_ thou wilt drinke her health? + +_Pike_. Were it a glasse as deepe to the bottome as a _Spanish_ pike is +long, an _Englishman_ shall doe't. Her health, & _Don Johns_ wives too. + + _Enter Jaylor_. + +_Jay_. The Prisoners are upon comming. + +_Mac_. Stand by, _Englishman_. + + _Enter Teniente, Henrico, Manuell, Pedro (as a fryer); + at another dore Eleonora_. + +_Mac_. Give the Lady roome there! + +_Clark_. Peace! + +_Mac_. Your facts are both so foule your hated lives +Cannot be too soone shortned; therefore these Lords +Hold it not fitt to lend you breath till morning, +But now to cutt you off. + +_Both_. The stroke is welcome. + +_Pedro_. Shall I prepare you? + +_Hen_. Save your paynes, good father. + +_Man_. We have allready cast up our accounts +And sent, we hope, our debts up into heaven. + +_Fer_. Our sorrowes & our sighes fly after them. + +_Ped_. Then your confession of the murther stands +As you your selfe did sett it downe? + +_Man_. It does; +But on my knees I beg this marginall note +May sticke upon the paper; that no guilt, +But feare of Tortures frighted me to take +That horrid sin upon me. I am as innocent +And free as are the starres from plotting treason +Gainst their first mover. + +_Pedro_. I was then in _France_ +When of your fathers murther the report +Did fill all _Paris_. + +_Man_. Such a reverend habit +Should not give harbour to so blacke a falshood. + +_Hen_. Tis blacke, & of my dying; for 'twas I +To cheate my brother of my fathers lands, +Layd this most hellish plott. + +_Fer_. 3[55] hellish sins, Robbery, Rape & Murther. + +_Hen_. I'me guilty of all Three; his soul's as white +And cleare from murther as this holy man +From killing mee. + +_Pedro_. No [know], there's a thing about me +Shall strike thee into dust & make thy tongue +With trembling to proclayme thyselfe a Villaine +More then thou yet hast done:--See, tis my Eye. + +_Hen_. Oh, I am confounded! [_Falls_. + +_Man_. But I comforted +With the most heavenly apparition +Of my deare honourd father. + +_Fer_. Take thou comfort +By two more apparitions, of a father +And a lost daughter, yet heere found for thee. + +_Man_. Oh, noble sir, I pray forgive my brother. + +_Ele_. See, sir, I doe; & with my hand reach to him +My heart to give him new life. + +_Fer_. Rise, my _Henrico_! + +_Mac_. Rise & receive a noble minded wife +Worth troupes of other weomen. + +_Hen_. Shame leaves me speechles. + +_Pedro_. Gett thee a tongue againe, & pray, & mend. + +_Mac_. Letters shall forthwith fly into _Madrid_ +To tell the King the storyes of Two Brothers, +Worthy the Courtiers reading. Lovers, take hands: +_Hymen_ & gentle faeryes strew your way: +Our Sessions turnes into a Bridall day. + +_All_. Fare thee well, _Englishman_. + +_Pike_. I will ring peales of prayers of you all, +My Lords & noble Dons. + +_Mac_. Doe soe, if thou hast iust cause: howsoever, +When thy swift ship cutts through the curled mayne, +Dance to see _England_, yet speake well of _Spayne_. + +_Pike_. I shall.--Where must I leave my pistoletts? + +_Gent_. Follow mee. + + [_Exeunt Omnes_. + + +FINIS. + + + + + + +INTRODUCTION TO _THE LADY MOTHER_. + + +The authorship of this anonymous play, now printed for the first time +(from Eg. MS. 1994), is not difficult to discover. Any one who has had +the patience to read the Plays of Henry Glapthorne cannot fail to be +amused by the bland persistence with which certain passages are +reproduced in one play after another. Glapthorne's stock of fancies was +not very extensive, but he puts himself to considerable pains to make +the most of them. In _The Lady Mother_ we find the same ornaments spread +out before us, many of them very tawdry at their best. Glapthorne's +editor has striven to show that the weak-kneed playwright was a +fellow-pupil of John Milton's at St. Paul's. One cannot think of the two +names together without calling to mind the "lean and flashy songs" and +"scrannel pipes of wretched straw" in _Lycidas_. + +Yet Glapthorne was a man of some parts. He had little enough dramatic +power, but he writes occasionally with tenderness and feeling. In his +poetical garden rank weeds choke up the flower-beds; but still, if we +have patience to pursue the quest, we may pick here and there a +musk-rose or a violet that retains its fragrance. He seems to have taken +Shirley as his master; but desire in the pupil's case outran +performance. It is, indeed, a pitiful fall from the _Grateful Servant_, +a honey-sweet old play, fresh as an idyl of Theocritus, to the paltry +faded graces of the _Lady's Privilege_. + +A note at the end of _The Lady Mother_ in the hand-writing of William +Blagrave, acting for the Master of the Revels, shows that the play was +licensed in October, 1635. From a passage in II., 1, it would seem to +have been produced at the Salisbury Court Theatre in Whitefriars. In the +same year Glapthorne's comedy of the _Hollander_, according to the +title-page, was being acted at the Cockpit, Drury Lane. His other pieces +were produced rather later. I am inclined to think that _The Lady +Mother_, in spite of the wild improbability of the plot and the poorness +of much of the comic parts, is our author's best work. In such lines as +the following (IV., 1) there is a little flickering of pathos:-- + + "Enough, good friend; no more. + Had a rude _Scythian_, ignorant of tears, + Unless the wind enforced them from his eyes, + Heard this relation, sure he would have wept; + And yet I cannot. I have lost all sense + Of pitty with my womanhood, and now + That once essentiall Mistress of my soule, + Warme charity, no more inflames my brest + Then does the glowewormes uneffectuall fire + The ha[n]d that touches it. Good sir, desist + The agravation of your sad report; [_Weepe_. + Ive to much griefe already." + +The "glowewormes uneffectuall fire" is of course pilfered from Hamlet, +but it is happily introduced. There is some humour in the scene (I., 2) +where the old buck, Sir Geoffrey, who is studying a compliment to his +mistress while his hair is being trimmed by his servant before the glass, +puts by the importunity of his scatter-brain'd nephew and the blustering +captain, who vainly endeavour to bring him to the point and make him +disburse. On the whole I am confident that _The Lady Mother_ will be +found less tedious than any other of Glapthorne's pieces. + + + + +THE LADY MOTHER: A COMEDY. + + +BY HENRY GLAPTHORNE. + +_Written in 1635, and now printed for the first time_. + + + + +The Play of The Lady Mother. + + + +_Actus Primus_. + +(SCENE 1.) + + + _Enter Thorowgood, Bonvill & Grimes_. + +_Bon_. What? will it be a match man? +Shall I kneele to thee and aske thee blessing, ha? + +_Tho_. Pish! I begin to feare her, she does +Dally with her affection: I admire itt. + +_Bon_. Shee and her daughters +Created were for admiration only, +And did my Mistress and her sister not +Obscure their mothers luster fancy could not +Admitt a fuller bewty. + +_Tho_. Tis easier to expresse +Where nimble winds lodge, ore investigate +An eagles passage through the agill ayre +Then to invent a paraphrase to expresse +How much true virtue is indebted to their +Unparaleld perfections. + +_Bon_. Nay[56], but shall I not be acquainted with your designe? when we +must marry, faith to save charges of two wedding dinners, lets cast so +that one day may yeild us bridegroome,--I to the daughter and thou to +the mother. + +_Tho_. She falls off +With such a soddaine ambiguitie, +From the strong heate of her profesd[57] love +That I conceive she intends a regular proofe +Of my untainted Faith. + +_Grimes_. Soe I thinke, too: when I was young the plaine downe-right way +serv'd to woe and win a wench; but now woing is gotten, as all things +else are, into the fashion; gallantts now court their Mistress with +mumps & mows as apes and monke[y]s doe. + +_Bon_. But cannot all your fluent witt interpret +Why she procastinatts your promisd match? +By this light, her daughter would be married tomorrow +If her mother and I had concluded on the Joynture. + +_Tho_. The most evident reason she will give me of this unwellcome +protraccon is she has some new employment to put on me, which performd +she has ingaged her selfe to certainty of her designing me an answerare +[_sic_]. + + _Enter Lovell_. + +_Grimes_. Here comes your Rivall, Mr. _Thorowgood_,--_Alexander_ the +_Great_, her Ladishipps loving Steward. + +_Bon_. But does he affect the lady; what's his character? + +_Grimes_. He was by trade a taylor, sir, and is the tenth part of the +bumbast that goes to the setting forth of a man: his dealing consists +not much in weight but in the weight of his pressing Iron, under whose +tyranny you shall perceave no small shrinking. + +_Tho_. Well said, _Grimes_. On! + +_Grimes_. He has alterd himselfe out of his owne cutt since he was +steward; yet, if you saw him in my ladyes Chamber you would take him +for some usher of a dancing schoole, as being aptest in sight for a +crosse cap. + +_Tho_. Excellent _Grimes_ still! + +_Grimes_. By his cloathes you might deeme him a knight; but yet if you +uncase him, you will find his sattin dublett naught but fore sleaves & +brest, the back part buckram; his cloake and cape of two sorts; his +roses and garters of my ladyes old Cypres: to conclude, sir, he is an +ambodexter or a Jack-of-all-sides & will needs mend that which Nature +made: he takes much upon him since the old Knight dyed, and does fully +intend to run to hell[58] for the lady: he hates all wines and strong +drinks--mary, tis but in publique, for in private he will be drunke, no +tinker like him. + +_Bon_. Peace, sirrah; observe. + +_Lov_. So, let me see the _summa totalis_ of my sweet ladies +perfections. + +_Grimes_. Good, he has her in whole already. + +_Tho_. Peace, _Grimes_. + +_Lov_. _Imprimis, her faire haire; no silken sleave +Can be so soft the gentle worm does weave. +It[em], noe Plush or satten sleeke, I vow, +May be compard unto her velvet brow. +It[em], her eyes--two buttons made of iett; +Her lipps gumd taffety that will not frett; +Her cheeks are changeable, as I suppose,-- +Carnation and white, lyllie and rose_. + +_Grimes_. I, there it goes. + +_Bon_. I protest I comend him; he goes through stitch with her like +the Master of his trade. + +_Lov_. _It[em] her brests two bottomes[59] be of thred, +By which love to his laborinth is led. +Her belly_-- + +_Grimes_. I, marry, sir, now he comes to the purpose. + +_Lov_. _Her Belly a soft Cushion where no sinner +But her true love must dare stick a pin in her_. + +_Grimes_. That line has got the prick and prayse from all the rest. + +_Lov_. _Butt to that stuff of stuffs, that without scoff +Is Camills haire or else stand further off_. + +_Grimes_. How many shreads has he stoale here to patch up this lady? + +_Lov_. _The totall some of my blest deity +Is the magazine of Natures treasury_.-- +Soe, this made up, will I take an occasion to dropp where she may find +it. But, stay; here's company. + +_Bon_. Mr. _Lovell_. + +_Lov_. And see, I shall divulge myselfe. + +_Grimes_. A foole, I doubt not. + +_Bon_. Is your lady stirring? + +_Lov_. She is risen, sir, and early occupied in her occasions spiritual, +and domesticke busines. + + _Enter Lady & Magdalen_. + +_Lady_. Sweet Mr. _Bonvil_. +The simple entertain[m]ent you receave here +I feare will scare you from us: you're so early +Up, you do not sleepe well. + +_Tho_. I cannot looke on her +But Ime as violent as a high-wrought sea +In my desires; a fury through my eyes +At every glance of hers invades my heart. + +_Lady_. What ayles you, servant? are you not well? + +_Bon_. 'Tis his humour, Madam; he is accustomed, though it be in +company, to hold a dialogue with his thoughts. Please you, lady, to +give his fever libertie; the fit will soon be overpasd. + +_Tho_. She bears her age well, or she is not sped +Far into th'vale of yeares: she has an eye +Piercing as is an Eglets when her damme, +Training[60] her out into the serene air, +Teaches her face the Sunbeames. + +_Bon_. Madam, I fear my friend +Hath falne againe in love; he practises +To himself new speeches; you and he are not +Broke off, I hope. + +_Lady_. O, sir, I value my servant at a higher rate: +We two must not easily disagree. +Sir _Alexander_, attend in Mr. _Bonvill_. +My daughter's up by this time, and I would have him give her the first +salute. You had best be wary, _Bonvill_; the young cittizen or the +souldier will rob you of her. + +_Bon_. O, we feare not them: shall we goe, sir? + +_Lady_. Nay, Ile detaine my servant. + +_Bon_. Harke you, sir, strike home; doe you heare? + + [_Exeunt Bonvill, Grimes, Lovell & Mag_. + +_Lady_. Servant, have you leasure +To hear what I inioyne you? + +_Tho_. Your good pleasure. + +_Lady_. What shall I doe? I can no longer beare +This flame so mortall; I have wearid heaven +With my entreaties and shed teares enough +To extinguish _Aetna_, but, like water cast +On coales, they ad unto my former heate +A more outragious fervor. I have tried +All modest meanes to give him notice of +My violent love, but he, more dull then earth, +Either conceives them not or else, possessd +With full affection of my daughter, scornes me. + +_Tho_. Madam, wilt please you to deliver your pleasure? + +_Lady_. _Thorowgood_, +Not clouds of lightning, or the raging bolt +Heavens anger darts at the offending world, +Can with such horrid rigor peirce the earth +As these sad words I must demonstrate to you +Doe my afflicted brest.--Ime lost; my tongue +When I would speake, like to an Isicle +Disturbd by motion of unruly winds +Shakes to pronounce't, yet freezes to my roofe +Faster by th'agitation. + +_Tho_. Your full Judgment +Could not have found an apter instrument +For the performance of what you designe, +Then I experience how much any man +May become passive in obedience +To the intent of woman, in my truth. +Set the abstrusest comment on my faith +Imagination can resolve, my study +Shall mak't as easie as the plainest lines +Which hearty lovers write. + + _Enter Timothy_. + +_Tim_. Madam, this letter and his humble vowes +From your deserving sonn. + +_Lady_. He writes me here he will be here tomorrow. +Where left you him? + +_Tim_. At your right worthy Cosens. + +_Lady_. What manner of man is this Mr. _Thurston_ +He brings with him? + +_Tim_. A most accomplishd gentleman. + +_Lady_. 'Tis well: Mr. _Thoroegood_, +Weele walke into the Gallery, and there +Discourse the rest. + +_Tho_. I long till I receive the audience of it. + +_Tim_. Your ladiship will vouchsafe to meete +The Gent[lemen] in your Coach some two miles hence? + +_Lady_. Ile thinke of it. + + [_Exeunt omnes_. + + + +(SCENE 2.) + + + _Enter Sucket and Crackby[61]. + +Suc_. Come, deport your selfe with a more elated countenance: a +personage of your rare endowments so dejected! 'tis fitt for groomes, +not men magnanimous, to be so bashfull: speake boldly to them, that like +cannon shott your breath may batter; you would hardly dare to take in +townes and expugne fortresses, that cannot demolish a paltry woman. + +_Crac_. Pox of this Country, it has metamorphisd me. Would I were in my +native Citty ayre agen, within the wholesome smell of seacole: the +vapor[s] rising from the lands new dunged are more infectious to me then +the common sewer ith sicknes time. Ime certaine of my selfe Ime impudent +enough and can dissemble as well as ere my Father did to gett his +wealth, but this country has tane my edge of quite; but I begin to sound +the reason of it. + +_Suc_. What may it be imagind. + +_Crac_. Why, here are no Taverns where for my crowne I can have food +provocative, besides the gaining of many precious phrase[s] for (from?) +divers gallants new frenchefied. Theirs nothing to excite desire but +creame and eggs, and they are so common every clowne devoures them. Were +each egge at twelve pence, or as deare as lobsters, I could afford to +eate them, but I hate all that is vulgar; 'tis most base. + +_Suc_. Pish, tis dificience in your resolution: +Suppose your mistress were an enemy +You were to encounter in sterne duell. + +_Crac_. 'Tis well my Enemie is a woman; I should feare else to suppose +the meeting. Resolution! how can a man have resolution that drinkes +nought but ale able to kill a Dutchman? Conduit water is nector to it, + +_Suc_. Nay, but I say, suppose-- + +_Crac_. Suppose! Why here are no wenches halfe so amorous as Citty +tripennies[62]: those that are bewtifull the dew is not so cold. I did +but begg a curtesie of a chambermaide, and she laughd at me! Ile to the +Citty againe, that's certaine; where for my angell I can imbrace +pl[enty]. If I stay here a little longer, for want of exercise I shall +forget whether a woman be fish or flesh: I have almost don't already. + +_Suc_. O, heeres your uncle, move him; you conceive me; +He must disburse. + +_Crac_. And 'tis as hard to wrest a penny from him as from a bawd. + + _Enter Sir Gefferie and Bunche_. + +_Sir Geff_. Erect that locke a little; theres a hayre +Which, like a foreman of a shop, does strive +To be above his fellowes. Pish! this glasse +Is falsly silverd, maks me look as gray +As if I were 4 score. + +_Bun_. What does he want of it? + +_Sir Geff_. Combe with more circumspection, knave; these perfumes +Have a dull odor; there is meale among them, +My Mrs. will not scent them. + +_Crac_. Uncle, my friend, +My martiall fellow is deficient +In this ubiquitarie mettall, silver: +You must impart. + +_Sir Geff_. This garter is not well tide, fellow: where +Wert thou brought up? thou knowest not to tie +A rose yet, knave: a little straiter: so, +Now, tis indifferent. Who can say that I +Am old now? + +_Bun_. Marry, that can I or any one which sees you. + +_Suc_. Death to my reputation! +Sir, we are gent[lemen] and deserve regard: +Will you not be responsible? + +_Sir Geff_. Alas, good Captaine, I was meditating how to salute my lady +this morning. You have bin a traviler: had I best do it in the _Italian_ +garbe or with a _Spanish_ gravity? your _French_ mode is grown so common +every vintners boy has it as perfect as his _anon, anon, sir_. Hum, I +must consider on it. + +_Crac_. Nay, but uncle, uncle, shall we have answeare concerning this +mony, uncle? You must disburse; that is the souldiers phrase. You see +this man; regard him. + +_Suc_. Death of vallor! I can hold no longer; I shall rise in wroth +against him. + +_Crac_. Dee heare, Uncle? you must furnish him; he wilbe irefull +presently, and then a whole bagg will not satisfie him; heele eate your +gold in anger and drinke silver in great sack glasses. + +_Sir Geff_. Pox o'this Congee; 't shalbe thus, no thus; +That writhing of my body does become me +Infinitly. Now to begett an active +Complement that, like a matins sung +By virgins, may enchant her amorous ear. +The _Spanish Basolas[63] manos_ sounds, methinks, +As harsh as a Morisco kettledrum; +The _French boniour_ is ordinary as their +Disease: hees not a gent that cannot parlee. +I must invent some new and polite phrases. + +_Crac_. Shall I have answeare yet, sir. + +_Sir Geff_. Pish, you disturbe me.--Gratulate her rest, +Force an encomium on her huswifry +For being up so early.--_Bunch_, where is my nephew? + +_Crac_. I have bin here this halfe hower and could not get answere. + +_Sir Geff_, To what, good nephew?--I was meditating a little seriously. + +_Crac_. Concerning this white earth. + +_Sir Geff_. Youde know the nature of it? If it be marle 'tis good to +manure land; if clay, to make tobacco pipes. + +_Crac_. I meane mony. + +_Sir Geff_. O mony, Nephew: Ide thought youde learnd ith Citty +How to use mony: here we do imploy it +To purchase land and other necessaries. + +_Suc_. Infamy to fame and noble reputation! +Old man, dost thou disdaine valour? I tell thee, Catterpillar, +I must have mony. + +_Sir Geff_. 'Tis reason good you should; it is fitting to cherish men +of armes. There is a treasurer in the county, Captaine, pays souldiers +pensions: if any be due to you Ile write my letter, you shall receive +it. + +_Bun_. Faith, there he mett with you. + +_Crac_. I see a storme a coming. Uncle, I wilbe answerable upon account: +my souldier must have mettall. + +_Sir Geff_. Iron and Steele is most convenient for Souldiers; but, since +you say it, Nephew, he shall have it: how much must it be? + +_Suc_. A score of Angells shall satisfie for the confrontment you have +offred me in being dilatory. + +_Sir Geff_. _Bunch_, deliver him ten pounds;--but, dee heare. + +_Bunch_, let be in light gold; 'twill serve his turn as well as heavier: +it may be he is one of those projectors transports it beyond sea. + + _Enter Magdalen_. + +_Mag_. Sir, I come to give you notice my ladyes walkd into the garden. + +_Sir Geff_. Life! is she upp so early? + +_Mag_. An hower since, beleeve it. + +_Crac_. Is my Mistress stirring? + +_Mag_. In truth, I know not. + +_Sir Geff_. Nephew, demeane your selfe with[64] all respect +Toward the gentlewoman you affect. +You must learne with here since the citty +Could spare you none.--Ile to the lady. + + [_Exeunt Bunch, Sir Geff. and Mag_. + +_Crac_. Captaine, shalls into th'Celler, Captaine? + +_Suc_. I like the Motion. + +_Crac_. Come away, then: there is indifferent liquor in this house, +but that ith towne is most abominable. Weele drinke our owne healths, +Captaine. + +_Suc_. Well considered; 'tis for our reputation. + + [_Exeunt omnes_. + + + +(SCENE 3.) + + + _Enter Bonvill, Clarinna, Belizea and Grimes_. + +_Bon_. Come, you are wantons both: If I were absent, +You would with as much willingness traduce +My manners to them. What Idiots are wee men +To tender our services to women +Who deride us for our paines! + +_Cla_. Why can you great wise men who esteeme us women +But equall with our parrets or at best +But a degree above them, prating creatures +Devoid of reason, thinke that when we see +A man whose teeth will scarce permitt his tongue +To say,--(he is soe like December come +A woing to the Spring, with all the ensignes +Of youth and bravery as if he meant +To dare his land-lord Death to single rapier)-- +We have not so much spleene as will engender +A modest laughter at him? + +_Bel_. Nay, theres his Nephew, _Crackby_, your sweet servant. + +_Clar_. My Servant! I do admire that man's impudence, +How he dare speake to any woman. + +_Bon_. Why, is he not flesh and blood? + +_Clar_. Yes, but I question whether it be mans or no. +They talk of changlings: if there be such things +I doubt not but hees one of them. + +_Bel_. Fie,[65] Sister; 'tis a prettye gent, I know you love him. + +_Clar_. You hitt it there, I faith,[66]--You know the man? + +_Bon_. Yes, very well. + +_Clar_. Have you then ever seene such another monster? +He was begott surely in the wane of the moone, +When Natures tooles were at laime Vulcans forge +A sharpning, that she was forced to shake this lumpe together. + +_Bon_. What man for heavens sake could your nicenes fancy? + +_Clar_. Not you of all that ever I beheld. + +_Bel_. And why, good wisdome? + +_Clar_. Nay, do not scratch me because he is your choyse, forsooth. + +_Bel_. Well, we shall see the goodly youth your curiositie has elected, +when my brother returnes, I hope. + +_Clar_. I hope soe, too; I marvill where this Cub is, +He is not roaring here yet. + + _Enter Thorogood_. + +_Bon_. Frend, thou hast lost +The absolu[t]st characters deliverd by this lady: +Would thou hadst come a little sooner. + +_Tho_. Ladies, +I must desire your pardon for my friend: +I have some busines will a while deprive him +Your sweet companies. + +_Clar_. Take him away; we are weary of him. + +_Bel_. Sister, lets leave the gentlemen alone, +And to our chambers. + [_Exeunt Bel. and Clar. + +_Bon_. _Grimes_, put to the doore and leave us.-- +Whats the matter? + [_Exit Grimes_. + +_Tho_. Freind, +Ere I begin my story I would wish you +Collect yourselfe, awake your sleeping Spiritts, +Invoake your patience, all thats man about you +To ayd your resolution; for I feare +The newes I bring will like a palsie shake +Your soules indifferenst temper. + +_Bon_. Prethee, what is't which on the soddaine can +Be thus disastrous? 'tis beyond my thoughts. + +_Tho_. Nay, slight it not: the dismall ravens noate +Or mandrakes screches, to a long-sick man +Is not so ominous as the heareing of it +Will be to you; 'twill like a frost congeale +Your lively heate,--yet it must out, our frendship +Forbids concealment. + +_Bon_. Do not torture me; +Ime resolute to heare it. + +_Tho_. Your soe admired Mistress +Who parted from you now, _Belisea_,-- + +_Bon_. You have don well before +Your sad relation to repeat that sound; +That holy name whose fervor does excite +A fire within mee sacred as the flame +The vestalls offer: see how it ascends +As if it meant to combat with the sunn +For heats priority! Ime arm'd gainst death, +Could thy words blow it on me. + +_Tho_. Here me, then: +Your Mistress-- + +_Bon_. The Epitome of virtues, +Who like the pretious reliques of a Saint +Ought only to be seene, not touchd. + +_Tho_. Yet heare me; +Cease your immoderate prayses: I must tell you +You doe adore an Idoll; her black Soule +Is tainted as an Apple which the Sunn +Has kist to putrifaction; she is +(Her proper appelation sounds so foule +I quake to speake it) a corrupted peice, +A most lascivious prostitute. + +_Bon_. Howes this? +Speake it agen, that if the sacrilege +Thou'st made gainst vertue be but yet sufficient +To yeild thee dead, the iteration of it +May damne thee past the reach of mearcye. Speake it, +While thou hast utterance left; but I conceit +A lie soe monstrous cannot chuse but choake +The vocall powers, or like a canker rott +Thy tung in the delivery. + +_Tho_. Sir, your rage +Cannot inforce a recantacion from me: +I doe pronounce her light as is a leafe +In withered Autumne shaken from the trees +By the rude winds: noe specld serpent weares +More spotts than her pide honor. + +_Bon_. So, no more: +Thy former words incenst me but to rage; +These to a fury which noe sea of teares, +Though shed by queenes or Orphants, shall extinguish; +Nay, should my mother rise from her cold urne +And weepe herself to death againe to save +Thee from perdition, 't should not; were there placd +Twixt thee and mee a host of blasing starrs, +Thus I would through them to thee! [_Draw. + +Tho_. Had I knowne +Your passion would have vanquishd reason thus, +You should have met your ruine unadvisd; +Hugd your destruction; taken what the lust +Of other men had left you. But the name +And soule of friendship twixt us I had thought +Would have retain'd this most unmanly rage +Gainst me, for declaration of a truth +By which you might be ransomed from the armes +Of her adulterate honor. + +_Bon_. Yes, kind foole; +Perswade an _Indian_ who has newly div'd +Into the ocean and obtaind a pearle, +To cast it back againe; labour t'induce +_Turkes_ to contemne their _Alcoron_ ere you strive +To make me creditt my _Belissia_ false. [_Kneele_. +Forgive me, holy love, that I delay +So long to scourge the more than heathnish wrongs +Of this iniurious villaine, whome me thinks-- +Blow him hence to hell +With his contagious slander! yet before +Thou doest fall by me as, if heaven have not +Lost all its care of Innocence, thou must doe, +Tell me what Divell urgd thee to detract +From virtue thus, for of thy selfe thou couldst not +(Unlesse with thee shee hath bin vicious) know it +Without some information: whoes the Author +Of this prodigious calumnie? + +_Tho_. Her mother. + +_Bon_. Ha! her mother? + +_Tho_. Yes, she; that certaine Oracle of truth, +That pretious mine of honor, which before +She would exhaust, or yeild your innocence +A spoyle to vice, chose rather to declare +Her daughter's folly; and with powerfull teares +Besought me, by the love I bore to goodnes, +Which in her estimation had a roome +Higher than Nature, to reveale it to you +And disingage you from her. + +Bon. Soe, rest there, [_Put up_. +Ere thou beest drawne were the whole sex reduced +To one, left only to preserve earths store, +In the defence of women; who,[67] but that +The mothers virtues stands betweene heavens Justice +Would for the daughters unexampled sinne +Be by some soddaine Judgment swept from earth +As creatures too infectious. Gentle freind, +An humor, heavy as my soule was steep'd +In _Lethe_, seases on me and I feare +My passion will inforce me to transgresse +Manhood; I would not have thee see me weepe; +I prethee leave mee, solitude will suite +Best with my anguish. [_Sitt downe. + +Tho_. Your good Genius keepe you. [_Exit_. + + [_Enter Belisea_.] + +_Bel_. Why have you staid thus long? +Young _Crackby_ and his friend are newly up +And have bin with us. My sister has had +The modest bout with them: 'tis such a wench. +Are you a sleepe? why doe you not looke up? +What muse you on? + +_Bon_. Faith, I was thinking where +In the whole world to find an honest woman. + +_Bel_. An excellent meditation! What doe you take me for, my Mother +and my Sister? + +_Bon_. You alway excepted; tis but melancholly; +Prethee bestow a kisse upon me, love; +Perchance that will expell it. + +_Bel_. If your cure be wrought soe easily, pittie you should perish +for want of physick. [_Kiss him_. + +_Bon_. She kisses as sheed wont; were she unchast, +Surely her breath would like a _Stigian_ mist +Or some contagious vapor blast me; but +'Tis sweet as _Indian_ balme, and from her lips +Distills[68] a moisture pretious as the Dew +The amorous bounty of the wholesome morne +Throwes on rose buds; her cheeks are fresh and pure +As the chast ayre that circumscribes them, yet +Theres that within her renders her as foule +As the deformed'st _Ethiope_. + +_Bel_. Whats the matter? +Why do you staire so on me? + +_Bon_. To admire +That such a goodly building as this same +Should have such vild stuff in itt. + +_Bel_. What meanes this language? + +_Bon_. Nothing, but only to informe you what +You know to well alreadie: _Belisia_, you are +--(I cannot call her whore)--a perjurd woman. + +_Bel_. Defend me innocence! I scarce remember +That ever I made oath and therefore wonder +How I should breake on. + +_Bon_. Have you not with imprecations beg'd +Heavens vengeance if you ere lovd man but me? + +_Bel_. And those same heavens are vouchers[69] +I've kept my vowes with that strict purity +That I have done my honor. + +_Bon_. I believe thee; +The divell sometimes speaks truth. Intemperate woman, +Thoust made that name a terme convertible +With fury, otherwise I should call thee soe, +How durst thou with this impudence abuse +My honest faith? did I appeare a guest +So infinitly worthles that you thought +The fragments of thy honour good enough +To sate my appetite, what other men +Had with unhallowd hands prophaind? O woman, +Once I had lockd in thy deceiving brest +A treasure wealthier then the _Indies_ both +Can in their glory boast, my faithfull heart, +Which I do justly ravish back from it +Since thou art turnd a strumpet. + +_Bel_. Doe you thinke +I am what you have term'd me? + +_Bon_. Doe I thinke +When I behold the wanton Sparrows change +Their chirps to billing, they are chast? or see +The Reeking Goate over the mountaine top +Pursue his Female, yet conceit him free +From wild concupiscence? I prithee tell me, +Does not the genius of thy honor dead +Haunt thee with apparitions like a goast +Of one thou'dst murdrd? dost not often come +To thy bed-side and like a fairy pinch +Thy prostituted limbs, then laughing tell thee +'Tis in revenge for myriads of black tortures +Thy lust inflicted on it? + +_Bel_. Have you don? +Give me a little leave then ere my greife +Surround my reason. Witnes, gratious heaven, +Who, were you not offended at some sinn +I have unwittingly comitted, would +Send sacred innocence it selfe to pleade +How much 'tis iniurd in me, that with zeale +Above the love of mothers I have tendred +This misinformd man. Ile not aske the authors +Of this report, I doe forgive them; may +A happier fate direct you to some other +May love you better; and my fate conferr +On me with speed some sudden sepulcher. [_Exit_. + +_Bon_. I shall grow childish, too; my passions strive +For my dead love to keepe my greife alive. + + [_Exit_. + + + + +_Actus Secundus_. + +(SCENE 1.)[70] + + + _Enter Sucket, Crackbie, Grimes_. + +_Gr_. Gentlemen, the rarest scene of mirth towards! + +_Suc_. Where? how, good _Grimes_? + +_Gr_. Oh, the steward, the steward, my fine Temperat steward, did soe +lecture us before my ladie for drinking ... at midnight, has gott the +key of the wine C[ellar from] _Timothie_ the Butler and is gon downe +to make [himself] drunke in pryvate. + + _Enter Timothie_. + +_Tim_. Gent[lemen], _Grimes_, away, away! I watcht him into t[he Cellar] +when I saw him chose forthe one of the b[ottles] of sacke, and hether is +retyringe with all exp[edition]. Close, close, and be not seene. + +_Crac_. Oh, my fine steward! + [_Exeunt_. + + _Enter Alexander Lovell with a Bottle of Sacke and a Cup_. + +_Lov_. Soe here I may be private, and privacie is best. I am the Steward +and to be druncke in publicke, I say and I sayt, were to give ill +examples. Goe to, I, and goe to; tis good to be merry and wise; an inch +in quietness is better than an ell of sorrow. Goe to and goe to agen, +for I say and I sayt, there is no reason but that the parson may forget +that ere he was clerke[71]. My lady has got a cast of her eye since she +tooke a survey of my good parts. Goe to and goe to, for I say and I +sayt, they are signes of a rising; flesh is frayle and women are but +women, more then men but men. I am puft up like a bladder, sweld with +the wind[72] of love; for go to and go to, I say and I sayt, this love +is a greife, and greife a sorrowe, and sorrows dry. Therefore come +forth, thou bottle of affection[73]; I create thee my companion, and +thou, cup, shalt be my freind. Why, so now,--goe to and goe to: lets +have a health to our Mrss, and first to myne; sweet companion, fill to +my kind freind; by thy leave, freind, Ile begin to my companion: health +to my Mrs! Soe, now my hands in: companion, fill, and heres a health to +my freinds Mrs. Very good, and now I will conclude with yours, my deare +companion: stay, you shall pledge me presently, tis yet in a good hand; +I will pledge both your Mrss first. Goe to and go to,[74] freind; thou +alwayes lookst on me like a dry rascall; give him his liquor; and soe +with my Mrs I conclude. What say you, Companion? ha, do you compare +your Mrs with myne? howes that? such another word and thou darst, +Sirrah! off with your Capp and doe her Reverence! wilt tell me soe? goe +to, I say and I sayt; Ile make better languadge come out of that mouth +of thine, thou wicked Carkasse. Freind, heres to thee:[75] Ile shake +thee, thou empty Rascall, to peeces, and as _Hector_ drew _Achilles_ +bout the walls of Troy at his horse tayle, so shalt thou at a doggs +tayle be dragd in vild disgrace throughout the towne. Goe to and goe to, +I say and I sayt; Ile have the dragd, sirr, ah I[le] have the dragd; +perswade me not, good friend; let him yeild me a reason[76] if he can. +I, I, he had need to be squeezd; why tis true, this is one, but not to +purpose. Oh, would you whisper with me? umh, umh, umh, away, Ile heare +no more: why, how now frend? ha, ha, ha, you have got a Cup to much; +umh, goe to and goe to, you can hold no more, I see that, at this time; +let me ene bring you to your chambers. + [_Flings away the bottle and sleeps_. + + _Enter Timothy, Grimes, Sucket, Crackby, with flaggons of wine. + +Suc_. 'Tis well don, cherish valour. + +_Crac_. Creditt me, my Captaine carries fortitude enough for a whole +legion; twas his advice tooke in[77] the _Busse_[?], and at _Mastricht_ +his courage did conclude _Papenhams_ overthrow.[78] + +_Suc_. Pish, you to farr exemply[fy]. I have bin at some few skermishes, +kild halfe a score or soe; but what of yt? men are but men. + +_Tim_. What wines that, fellow _Grimes_? + +_Grimes_. Sack by this light, the Emperor of liquors! Captaine, here tis +well keepe of push of pike yet peirce like shott of Cannon: a Cup of +this upon an onslaught, Captain? + +_Suc_. Is beveredge for a Generall: I doe use to drinke it when I am +engagd against a squadron or a whole company. + +_Grimes_. He meanes of drunkards. + + [_Lovell grunts_. + +_Suc_. Ha! Cinielaro[?] an ambuscado! see, whos that lyes there +pardue[79]? fort of Mars! my wroth shall eate him up. + +_Grimes_. Soe, soe, now softely letts to him: ha, alreadie[80] dead +drunke, as I am vertuous. Assist me gent[lemen]; _Timothy_, hast thou +thy Salvatorie about thee. + +_Tim_. Yes, heere, here.[81] + +_Grimes_. Quick, quick; make some plasters and clapp em on his face: +here, bind this napkin about his hand; who has a garter, lets see, to +bind it up? + +_Suc_. Some blood, my sonn of _Mercury_, were neceseary for consummation +of the jest. + +_Crac_. And here, _Grimes_, ty this cloath about his head: oh, for some +blood! + +_Grimes_. Here, I have prickt my finger. + +_Tim_. Let you and I, Mr. _Crackby_, goe to buffitts for a bloody nose. + +_Crac_. No, no, you shall pardon me for that, _Tim_[82]; no, no; no +boyes play. + +_Suc_. So, so; now set him in the chaires. Hart of valour! he looks like +a Mapp oth world. Death, what are these?[83] + + _Enter Musike_. + +_Grimes_. The Town Waites whome I appointed to come and visitt us. + +_Suc_. 'Twas well donn: have you ere a good song? + +_Tim_. Yes, they have many. + +_Suc_. But are they bawdy? come, sir, I see by your simpring it is you +that sings, but do not squeake like a _French_ Organ-pipe nor make faces +as if you were to sing a Dirge. Your fellowes may goe behind the arras: +I love to see Musitions in their postures imitate those ayrey soules +that grace our Cittie Theaters, though in their noats they come as short +of them as _Pan_ did of _Apollo_. + [_Musike_. + +_Grimes_. Well, sir, this is indifferent Musicke, trust my judgment. +Sing, boy. + [_A song_. + +_Crac_. Now on my life this boy does sing as like the boy[84] at the +_Whitefryers_ as ever I heard: how say you Captain? + +_Suc_. I, and the Musicks like theires: come, Sirra, whoes your Poett? + +_Crac_. Some mad wag, I warrant him: is this a new song? + +_Mus_. Tis the first edition, sir: none else but we had ever coppie +of it. + +_Suc_. But you wilbe intreated to let a gent have it? + +_Mus_. By no meanes; the author has sworne to the contrary, least it +should grow so wonderous old and turne a Ballad. + +_Crac_. Well said, Captain; the tother health, Captain: heres good wine, +good Tobackoe, good everything: had we but a good wench or two twere +excellent. + +_Suc_. Great _Alexander_, does not dreame of this, I warrant yee. + +_Grimes_. Oh, hees fast enough; heele be ready to cast up his accounts +the easier when my lady calls him. + +_Crac_. Come, come; who payes the Musicke? Captain, you have my purse. + +_Suc_. Truths a truth from Infidell or Pagan: I am in trust, and that's +beleife, and so it shalbe saved. Pay the Musick? umh, where are they? +let me see, how many's of you, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6: good, can any of you +daunce? + +_Mus_. Daunce? Yes, sir, we can shake our legs or soe. + +_Suc_. So said so don, brave ladd; come, letts have a daunce, some +daunce and some play. + +_Mus_. Anything to please you, noble Captaine. + +_Suc_. Lively then, my hearts; some country Jigg or soe. Oh those playes +that I have seene of youre, with their Jiggs[85] ith tayles of them[86] +like your French forces! Death, I am a rorging (roaring?) boy; but, +come, stir your shanks nimbly or Ile hough ye. Strike up there! + + [_Daunce_. + +_Grimes_. Well don, my hearts; drinke, drinke. + +_Suc_. Goe you in, Ile follow you. + +_Om[nes]_. Come, Captaine. + +_Suc_. Farewell, Steward. + +_Mus_. Dee heare, Captaine? + +_Suc_. With me, my fine treble knave? umh, thou dost tickle minikin +as nimbly-- + +_Mus_. We hope your worship will consider our paines? + +_Suc_. How, my fine knave? letts see, who were the dauncers? + +_Mus_. Come forward there! nay, I told you he was ever bountifull: oh, +good Captaine! + +_Suc_. Let me see: I, thou art hart of vallor: thou didst daunce well, +thou deservest--, I say no more: and who played? + +_Mus_. Wee. + +_Suc_. You? well sayd; you plaid and you daunc'd, you say good; let me +see, halfe a peece or-- + +_Mus_. Blesse your Captaineship. + +_Suc_. You plaid, you say, and you dauncd: umh, well, why then you that +dauncd must pay those that plaid. + +_Mus_. How, sir, how? + +_Suc_. Ever, ever, whilst you live, _Jarvice_;[87] the dauncers alwayes +payes the musike. Wilt breake custome? No, or there a pawne for you. +--Mr. Steward. Farewell. [_Exit_. + +_Mus_. This is your bountifull Captaine! a rope of his bounsing! But +stay, lets play to the steward; it may be when he wakes we may worke +him to't. + +_Omnes_. Content, content. [_Musike softe_. + +_Lov_. Umh[88], play a healthe: soe; say, it shall goe rounde: goe to, +I say and I sayt, it shall goe round. Umh, where is this fidle? in the +ayre? I can perceave nothing. Where is my kinde friend and my fine +companion? come, we will be friends again; goe to, we will. Umh, +plaistered and bound up? bloody? how comes this? goe too and goe to; if +I have done any mischiefe or bene over valiant in my drinke to kill a +man or soe, why 'twas in my drinke, not I, and let my drinke be hangd +for't; or, I say and I sayt, let um stay till I am drunke againe and +then hange me; I care not, I shall not be sensible of it. Oh this sack! +it makes a coward a _Hector_: the _Greekes_ and _Troians_ drinke no +other; and that and a wench (for theres the divell out) made um cuffe +ten yeares together, till at length when they had bled more than they +coulde drinke they grew sober, the contented Cuckold tooke his wife home +againe and all were good frends[89]. [_Sease Musicke_] But stay, the +musikes husht; I hope theyle appeare; I doe feale no such paine in my +wounds that I had need of musicke to bring me to sleepe. Blesse me whose +this? ha[90]! + + _Enter Grimes disguised_. + +_Grimes_. How does your worshipp? Mr. Steward, dee feele your selfe at +ease? I am hartely sorry for your misfortune? + +_Lov_. Misfortune? ha, what misfortune? now heaven and't be thy will-- + +_Grimes_. Pray heaven they be alive. + +_Lov_. Ha, alive? in the name of drinke what have I don? where did you +find me, ha? + +_Grimes_. Why, sir, comming out--umh, umh-- + +_Lov_. Out with't, man. + +_Grimes_. Out of a bad-house, sir. + +_Lov_. A Bawdie house, I warrant. + +_Grimes_. Yes sir. + +_Lov_. Why, now its out. + +_Grimes_. I, and tis well your worships out. + +_Lov_. Noe, noe, it had bin better had I never gon in; but on, on. + +_Grimes_. You were, sir,--as they say, sir--you had gotten a Cup to +much. + +_Lov_. Hang Cupps, my friend excepted; goe to; speake plaine; I was +drunke was I? + +_Grimes_. Yes, sir; you were not able to stand when you came out, sir? + +_Lov_. Out of the Bawdy-house? I beleave thee; nay, I am a right +_Lovell_ I, I look like a shotten herring now for't. _Jone's_ as good +as my lady in the darke wee me. I have no more Roe than a goose in me; +but on to the mischiefe, on. + +_Grimes_. You beate the Bawd downe with the Chamber dore and bade her +keepe that for the Reckoning. + +_Lov_. Umh, there was witt in my drinke, I perceive; on. + +_Grimes_. Then, sir, you tooke up a Spitt. + +_Lov_. A Spitt? + +_Grimes_. Yes, sir, and broacht one of the wenches out. + +_Lov_. How? + +_Grimes_. Oh, sir, you made such a hole in her bakside[91] you might +have turnd-- + [_Blows his nose_. + +_Lov_. What? thy nose int? + +_Grimes_. Had I been there it had been at your service. + +_Lov_. Thanke thee; thou shouldst have lost nothing by it. + +_Grimes_. Then went Tobackoe pipes to wrack, and oh the black potts +sufferd without measure; nay, you swore (and for it paid your twelve +pence) that if you were maior youd come disguisd on purpose to +confou[nd] 'um. + +_Lov_. Ist possible I could doe this? + +_Grimes_. This, sir? Why you kickd one flat-nosd wench that snuffled, +and swore she was a puritan. + +_Lov_. Did not I pay for that oath too? + +_Grimes_. No, sir; you bid the Constable keepe reckoning till it came to +a some and you would pay him in totall. So, sir, with the spit in your +hand away you runn, and we after yee, where you met with a roaring +Captain. + +_Lov_. Ha, now, now comes the misfortune. + +_Grimes_. Then you stopt and stood a while waving to and froe, as in +suspense; at length you fell, with a forward thrust, quite through his +heart. + +_Lov_. Ha, through his heart? the Captaines dead then? + +_Grimes_. No sir, twas through a silver heart he weares in memory of +his Mrs. + +_Lov_. Ime glad of that: thou strukst me through the heart with thy +newes. + +_Grimes_. You being downe, on fell the Captain like a tyrannicall +_Dutch_ man of war that shewes no mercy to the yeelding enemy, and ere +we could bring succor gave you these wounds, which being dark we brought +you home as privately as possible, sett you to sleepe and here stayd +till your waking. + +_Lov_. Yare honest fellowes; goe to and go to, I say and I sait agen, +yare honest fellowes and shall not be unrewarded: looke you, theres for +you--and be but sylent in't. + +_Grimes_. As is my instrument, Sir. Coods me! what, have they torne away +the back of your satteen Doublet? the Canvas is seene. + +_Lov_. Umh, no, but they have stolne my velvet Jerkin. + +_Grimes_. I, and dam'd your Dublet. + +_Lov_. Tis well; goe; thanks; goe, Ile see you shortly; you and your +Companie shall play at my ladyes wedding. I say no more, goe to; I love +you and I thanke you, + +_Grimes_. I thanke you, good Mr. Steward. [_Discovers_ + +_Lov_. Whoes this? _Grimes_? + +_Grimes_. Even he that has thus begrimd yee, my fine drunken Steward. I +can cure you, toe; come, let me be your Surgion. + +_Lov_. Thou shalt be my hangman first, Rascall. + +_Grimes_. You wonnot murder? helpe Captain, Mr. _Crackby, Tim_! + + _Enter Omnes_. + +_Omnes_. How now! how now! what's the matter? + +_Lov_. Whoop! hell broke loose! tis good to shun the Divell. + [_Exit_. + +_Grimes_. Not if you meet him in the likenes of a bottle of Sack, good +Steward.[92] + +_Tim_. Why this is excellent. + +_Suc_. Grimes, let me hugg thee, thou sonn of witt. + +_Grimes_. Nay, letts not leave him thus. + +_Crac_. Leade on, weele follow. + + [_Exeunt Omnes_. + +_Finis Actus Secundi_. + + + + +_Actus Tertius_. + +(SCENE 1.) + + + _Enter Sir Geffry and Lady_. + +_Sir Geff_. But I beseech you, Madam; what greater accession[93] can you +wish then me for husband? I have it here thats sattisfaction for the +lustiest widdow twixt this and London. Say, will you love me? Ime in +hast and hate demurrs; if you refuse I must seeke out: I have a little +moysture and would be loth to hav't dride for want of exercise.--What +say you, lady? + +_Lady_. Sir, for your love I thanke you; for your wealth +I want it not; but yet I doe not find +A disposicon in my selfe to marriage. + +_Sir Geff_. That will not serve my turne; I am no knight +Who weares the spurr of honour without Rowells +To prick a woman forwards: I ride post +To Marriage and resolve at the next stage +To take my Inn up. You have here +Two beautifull young gallants to your daughters: +Since youle not be my wife yet be my mother; +Ile marry any of them, which you please, +And hood her with the bagg [badge?] of honor. Lady, +What say you to this motion. + +_Lady_. My daughters wills are not in my command: +If you can purchase either of their hearts, +My free consent shall follow. + +_Sir Geff_. Nay, then, they will fall out for me, Madam, +I am most fortunate in atcheiving virgins. + + _Enter Bonville_. + +Save you, sweet youth, the bewties of your Mrs. +Crowne your desires. Are you a suiter? + +_Bon_. Madam, I have occasions of importance +Wishes a little privacy with you. + +_Lady_. With me, sweet Mr. _Bonvill? Sir Geffrey_, +Pray you vouchsafe your absence; at more leasure +We shall discourse. + +_Sir Geff_. With all my heart: Ile to the wenches. + [_Exit_. + +_Bon_. Madam we are alone? + +_Lady_. You did desire we should. + +_Bon_. But are you sure none can oreheare us. + +_Lady_. Unles we be to loud: +What mooves you to require this secresie? + +_Bon_. I come to aske a question, which the winds; +If I could deafe them, should not heare for feare +Their repercussive Eccho should declare it +To all our infamies. + +_Lady_. What ist, I pray you? + +_Bon_. Your daughter whom I was a servant to, +--I must deliver it in the homeliest phrase-- +Is she dishonest? + +_Lady_. You urge a repetition, gentle sir, +Of a sad truth: she is. + +_Bon_. It cannot be +In reason comprehensible a mother +Should for a stranger blurr her daughters fame, +Were it untruth. I am confirmd; this favor +Transcends requitall: if a man misled +By error gainst the diety, gross enough +For his damnation, owe a gratitude +To his converter, I am engag'd to you +For my delivery from her. + +_Lady_. 'Twas no more +Then what my honor obligd me +And my respect to vertue, which in you +I should have murdred by my silence; but +I have not greife enough left to lament +The memory of her folly: I am growne +Barren of teares by weeping; but the spring +Is not yet quite exhausted. [_Weeps_. + +_Bon_. Keepe your teares +Lest the full clouds, ambitious that their drops +Should mix with yours, unteeme their big wombd laps +And rayse a suddeine deluge. Gratious madam, +The oftner you reherse her losse the more +You intimate the gaine I have acquird +By your free bounty, which to me appeares +So farr transcending possibility +Of satisfaction that, unles you take +My selfe for payment, I can nere discharge +A debt so waytie. + +_Lady_. Ist come to this? +You speake misteriously; explaine your meaning. + +_Bon_. To consecrate, with that devotion +That holy Hermits immolate[94] theire prayers, +My selfe the adorer of your vertues. + +_Lady_. Are you serious? + +_Bon_. No scrupulous penitent, timerous that each thought +Should be a sinn, does to the priest lay ope +With halfe that verity his troubled soule +That I doe mine. I love you: in that word +Include all ceremony. No sooner had +Your information disingagd my heart +Of honoring your daughter, but amazd +At the immensnesse of the benefit +Your goodness had cast on me, I resolvd +This way to show my gratitude. + +_Lady_. But dare you, +Knowing the daughter vicious, entertaine +Affection to the mother? + +_Bon_. Dare I when +I have bin long opresd with a disease, +Wish pleasing health? theres vertue enough here +To excite beleife in _Moores_ that only women +Have heavenly soules. + +_Lady_. This is admirable: +Did my intention tend to love, as soone +I should embrace your motion in that kind +As any others, wert but to afford +Some small lustracon for the wrong my daughter +Intended you; nay, to confesse my thought, +I feele a strong propension in my selfe +To yeild to you; but I am loath,[95]--your youth +Will quickly loath me. + + _Enter Y[oung] Marlowe and Thurston_. + +_Mar_. Madam, this Gent[leman] +Desires to have you know him for your son: +Tis he my sister _Clariana_, with your licence, +Wishes for husband. + +_Lady_. A proper Gent[leman]; Ime happy she has made +So iuditious an election.[96] +You are very welcome, sir: conduct him in, Sonn. + + [_Exeunt Young Marlowe and Thurston_. + +_Bon_. Persuade me I can hate +Sleepe after tedious watching, or reiect +The wholesome ayre when I've bin long choakd up +With sicklie foggs: sooner shall-- + +_Lady_. Desist from protestations, or employ them +Mong those who have no more discretion +Then to beleive them. + +_Bon_. How, Lady? + +_Lady_. You can in Justice now no more appeach +Our mutabillities, since you have provd +So manifestly [in]constant. + +_Bon_. These are arts +Orewhelme my dull capacity with horror: +Inconstant! + +_Lady_. Are the light faines erected on the tops +Of lofty structures stedfast, which each wind +Rules with its motion? credulous man, I thought +My daughters reall vertues had inspired thee +With so much confidence as not to loose +The estimation of her honor for +My bare assertion, without questioning +The time or any the least circumstance +That might confirm't. I did but this to try +Your constancy: farewell. [_Exit_. + +_Bon_. What witch had duld my sense +That such a stuped Lethurgie should sease +My intellectuall faculties they could not +Perceive this drift! If she be virtuous, +As no man but an heretick to truth +Would have imagind, how shall I excuse +My slanderous malice? my old fire renewes +And in an instant with its scortching flames +Burnes all suspicon up. + + _Enter Belisea_. + +_Bel_. Peace attend you. + +_Bon_. What Cherubim has left the quire in heaven +And warbles peacefull Anthems to the earth? +It is her voyce, that to all eares speakes health, +Only to mine. Come charitable mist +Hide me, or freindly wherlewind rap me hence, +Or her next accent, like the thunderers, will +Strike me to dust. + +_Bel_. Sir, I come not +With resolution (though my innocence +May justly arme [me]) to declare my truth; +For I am going where your slander cannot +(Had it bin greater) blast me. I desire +This for my past love, that youle retaine +Your wrong opinion to yourselfe, not labour +To possesse others with it, to disgrace +Our yet unspotted family. + +_Bon_. If you want +A partner in your greife, take me along +That can teach you and all the world true Sorrow. + +_Bel_. Twas not don well to brand my spotles name +With Infamy; but to deride me is +Inhumaine, when I only come to tell you +Ile send my prayers on charities white wings +To heaven for your prosperity.--You greive +For what? for your deliverance from a strumpet? + +_Bon_. No, but that my raving fancy should direct +My trecherous tongue with that detested name +To afflict thy unblemishd purity, _Belisea_. +I do confes my error was an act +Soe grosse and heathnish that its very sight +Would have inforcd a Crocodile to weepe +Drops as sincere as does the timorous heart +When he ore heares the featherd arrow sing +His funerall Dirge. + +_Bel_. Can this be possible? + +_Bon_. No sismatick, reduc'd to the true faith, +Can more abhorre the Error he has left +Than I do mine. I do beleive thee chast +As the straight palme; as absolute from spots +As the immaculate Ermine, who does choose, +When he is hunted by the frozen _Russe_, +To meete the toyle ere he defile the white +Of his rich skin. What seas of teares will serve +To expiatt the scandall I have throwne +On holy Innocence? + +_Bel_. Well, I forgive you; +But ere I seale your pardon I in[j]oyne +This as a pennance: you shall now declare +The author of your wrong report. + +_Bon_. Your mother. + +_Bel_. How! my mother? + +_Bon_. No creature else +Could have inducd me to such a madnes. + +_Bel_. Defend me gracious virtue! is this man +Not desperate of remission, that without +Sense of compu[n]ction dares imagine lies +Soe horrible and godlesse? My disgrace +Was wrong sufficient to tempt mercie, yet +Cause twas my owne I pardond it; but this +Inferd toth piety of my guiltless mother +Stops all indulgence. + +_Bon_. Will you not heare me out? + +_Bel_. Your words will deafe me; +I doe renounce my affection to you; when +You can speake truth, protest you love agen. + [_Exit_. + +_Bon_. Contempt repaid with scorne; tis my desert; +Poyson soone murders a love wounded heart. + + [_Exit_. + + + +(SCENE 2.) + + + _Enter Belisea, Clariana and Thorowgood_. + +_Bel_. You may declare your will[97] here are no eares +But those I will not banish, were your busines +More secret. + +_Tho_. Lady, I come to free +My worthy freind and your owne servant, _Bonvill_, +From an uniust suspition your conceite +Retaines of him. Your mother did employ me +In the unlucky message that pronouncd you +Empty of honor. + +_Bel_. Has your worthles freind +Hird you to sweare this? + +_Tho_. I'me none that live +By selling oathes. + +_Bel_. Ile scarce believ't; he shall not +With all his cunning policie regaine +My good opinion of him. Sir, you cannot +Doe a more pleasing office then to leave me: +I do not love to heare of him. + +_Tho_. Your pleasure rules me. [_Exit_. + +_Cla_. _Belisea_, you did ill +Not to heare out the Gent[leman]. + +_Bel_. Prethe why? +His owne confession does appeach him one +In the conspiracy against my honor. +He sayes my mother was the originall +Of _Bonviles_ slaunder; and how impious +Twere for a child to thinke so, filiall duty +Instructs my knowlidge. + +_Cla_. Be not confident; +Your piety may misleade you. Though your mother, +Shees passion like to us; we had it from her. +Ile say no more; the event will testifie +Whoes in the fault.[98] + + _Enter Sucket and Crackby_. + +_Suc_. Be not abashd; a little impudence is requisite; +Observe me, with what a garbe and gesture martiall +I will beseige their fortresses. + +_Bel_. Who sent these fooles to trouble us?--Gent[lemen], +We have some conference will admit no audience +Besides ourselves. +We must desire you to withdraw, or give us +Leave to do soe. + +_Suc_. Men of warr are not soe easily put to a retreat; it suites not +with their repute. + +_Cla_. Heele fight with us, sister: weed best procure him bound toth +peace. + +_Crac_. Ladies, I must no more endure repulse; +I come to be a suiter. + +_Bel_. For what? + +_Crac_. Why, that you would with Judgment overlooke +This lovely countenance. + +_Cla_. The hangman shall doe't sooner. + +_Crac_. If you knew +How many bewtious gentlewomen have sued +To have my picture-- + +_Cla_. To hang at their beds head for a _memento mori_-- + +_Crac_. You would regard it with more curiosity. +There was a merchants daughter the other day +Runn mad at sight of itt. + +_Cla_. It scared her from her witts: she thought the +divell had haunted her. + +_Suc_. Valour deserves regard, myne shall propugne +Your bewty gainst all opposers. + +_Bel_. Alasse! mine is so meane, +None will contend with it, it needs no champions. + +_Crac_. Contemne me not, lady; I am-- + +_Cla_. A most egregious asse. + +_Crac_. Most nobly propagatted; my father was a man +Well fu[rnish'd] with white and yellow mettall. + +_Cla_. I lay my life a Tinker. + +_Crac_. And in his parish of account. + +_Cla_. A Scavenger. + +_Bel_. Is it a badge of your profession +To be uncivell? + +_Suc_. Uncivell! +Noe; what is in other men uncivill +In us is resolution; therefore yeild: +I am invincible, flesh cannot stand +Before me. + +_Bel_. It must be drunke then. + +_Cla_. I am not ith humour now +To laugh, or else Ide not dismisse him yet. +Good Mr. _Crackby_, does your wisdome thinke +That I can love you? + +_Crac_. My worth deserves it. + +_Cla_. Well said, impudence. +Goe, get you home toth Cittie; goe solicitt +Some neighbors daughter; match with _Nan_ your Schoolefellow +With whome you usd to walk to _Pimblicoe_[99] +To eate plumbe cakes and creame,--one of your parish, +Good what-doe-you-lack. + +_Crac_. This is offensive to +My reputation. + +_Cla_. You shall heare more on't: +When thou art married, if the kind charity +Of other men permitt thee to geet thee children +That call thy wife mother, bring them up +To people shopps and cheat for 18d, +The pretious youth that fathers them. +Walke, walke, you and your Captaine _Huff_ to _London_, +And tell thy mother how thou has't sped i'th country, +And let her moane thee. + +_Crac_. Captaine, we must give place; these girles are firebrands, +And we as straw before them. + +_Suc_. They may stand +In neede of valour. + [_Exeunt Suc. and Crac_. + + _Enter Thurston_. + +_Cla_. Have you oreheard us? these are the lads will do't, +When 20 such as you will be cast off. + +_Thu_. Like a bob'd[100] Hawke.--Mrs, if I mistake not, +Your mother does inquire for you. + +_Bel_. I will attend her pleasure. [_Exit_. + +_Cla_. Doe not goe, wench; we shall scarce be honest. + +_Thu_. Love, is it time, after the services +I have perform'd, to have some salary? +Noe labourer works without his hier; I would +Be satisfied when you determine we +Shall end our hopes in marriage. + +_Cla_. I have lookt for this month in my Calender +And find that marriage is prohibited. + +_Thu_. It is not Lent nor Advent;[101] if it were +The Court is not so strickt but 'twill dispense +With freinds, and graunt a licence. + +_Cla_. Whole be bound +With you that theres no hindrance but we may +Be lawfully espoused? + +_Thu_. Ime not so barren +Of freinds but I shall find security +For what will nere be question'd. + +_Cla_. It may be soe; but one who calculated +My birth did warne me to abstaine from marriage +Til I was twenty. + +_Thu_. You're no _Atlanta_; if you be, Ile play +_Hippomanes_ and over runn you. + +_Cla_. You'd scarce catch me, +Though you had _Venus_ apples to seduce +My covetous eyes. Henceforth Ide have you leave +Your love to me. + +_Thu_. I must leave to live then. +Why doe you say soe? + +_Cla_. Cause it is [un]iust +You should mispend affection on her +Who is incapeable of it. + +_Thu_. You'd faine wrest +A new expence of complement from me: +If you delight to heare your praise, Ile hire +Some mercenary [poet][102] to comend +In lofty verse your bewty. + +_Cla_. You are merry: +My humor is not specious; we must know +A further distance. + +_Thu_. Wherefore, pray? +Our eyes are no more poysonous then they were. + +_Cla_. Yes, they infect reciprocall. + +_Thu_. This language +Is not accustomd; pray, tell me how +My presence is offensive, and Ile shun you[103] +As I would doe my fate. You are not serious: +My innocence assures me my deserts +Can chalenge no such usage. + +_Cla_. Tis confest; but we +Are like thinne christall glasses that will crack +By touching one another: I coniure thee +By all our past love, from this parting minute +Nere to behold me more. I dare not venter +My frailty with thee. + +_Thu_. What immodesty +Has my demeaner uttred you should doubt +Ravishing from me? + +_Cla_. Thats not it, but cause +I would not tempt my destinie: thy sight +Would inflame marble, much more me whose heart +Is prompt enough to fly into thy breast +And leave mine empty. But 'tmust not remaine +In that lone habitation, least a curse, +A fearefull one, sease on mee. + +_Thu_. Can there be +Curses more horrid, incident to earth +For its past Sinns, then would depend on you +For such a bold presumption as your breatch +Of faith would be. + +_Cla_. Our tyrant fate has found +Yet uninvented torments to expresse +Our loyall soules. O, _Thurston_, thou wert never +--Not when our mutuall freindships might have taught +The constant turtles amity--more deare +To me then now. I could, as well as then, +Peruse love's dictats in thy amorous cheeks, +Enioy the pressure of thy modest lipp; +But Ime enioynd by powerfull menaces +T'infring my wonted use and to disclaime +My vowes to thee. + +_Thu_. If this be possible, +What will become of earth? men will no more +Respect Society or strive to save +Humanity alive: henceforth theyle seeke +For lost fidelity on Caves or topps +Of untrodd Rocks, and plight their trothes to beasts; +Commix with them and generate a race +Of creatures, though less rationall, yet more +Indude with truth. O _Clariana_, can +There be a motive able to convert +This pretious Christall temple, built for purity +And goodnes adoration, to a faine +For Idoll falshoods worship? But I cannot +Labour my wandring Judgment to beleife +Thou speakst thy meaning. If I have not lovd +With that essential perfectnes thy worth +That man could doe, in charity declare +My Ignorant defect, and Ile amend it +With more then zealous industry. + +_Cla_. Tis vaine: +You may as easily penetrate the cloudes +With a soft whisper, as my eares, then which +Noe thunders deafer. _Thurston_, tis not cause +I have in the intemperate heate of blood +Given up my soule to a new choyce, that breeds +This soddaine mutability: I will +Preserve my affection as inviolate to you +As Anchorites their vowes, and in my grave +Interr my virgin glory. Teares will not +Permitt more conference: fare you well; Ile keepe +My passion up till I have none to weepe. [_Exit_. + +_Thu_. Shees gon! What vapor which the flattring sunn +Exhales to heaven as to create a starr, +Yet throwst, a fading meteor, to the earth, +Has falne like me? Divinity, that tells +Us there are soules in women, Ile no more +Credit thy dubious _Theorems_ nor thinke +Thy lawes astring us to preserve our faith. +Let the nice Casuists, that dispute each clause +Belongs to conscience with a[l]ternate sense, +Dispense with breach of promise and prescribe +Equivocacons to evade all oathes +Without offending, or shees damnd. + + _Enter Lovell_. + +_Lov_. Well, Companion, at my friends Intreatie I am content to be +reconsyld; but have a care, goe to, ha, oh ho, youle[104] ... more; why, +goe to then ... pledge the companion ... heeres to thee: what, what! + +_Thu_. Heres one perchance will satisfie me. +Sir, your habit speaks yer understanding: +Please you resolve me one thing which disturbes +The quiet of my conscience. + +_Lov_. Revenge may slumber but can never sleep: +He that lets slip an Injury thats done +Takes the next course to draw a greater on. + +_Thu_. You counsell well. I pray, in all the volumes +Your learning has perusd, did you ere find +Any conclusion that allowd it lawfull +To breake an oath? + +_Lov_. If she neglect and throw[105] disgrace on thee, +Fly't thou as much and be thy scorne as free. + +_Thu_. An Oracle speakes in him; but, pray, tell me +Ist lawfull then to breake an oath? + +_Lov_. Though time prolongs, we cannot style it sloath: +My vowes are firme; hees damd that breaks an oath. + +_Thu_. Good, good, agen: but the oath I treat on, +Is of another kind: tis to a woman. + +_Lov_. It could not be her fault; there's a mistake in't. + +_Thu_. None o'my life, theres none. + +_Lov_. Let me see, let me see: +No, twas not hers, twas _Grimeses_ knavery. + +_Thu_. Ha, whether did wild fancy lead my apprehension. +He minds me not but is in disputation +With his owne thoughts. + +_Lov_. Wilt thou pledge me ii cuppes? Why, goe to and goe to, then. +Ha to thee, ha, sirra _Grimes_! +--When man gainst man conspire to doe evill, +For what Society is a fitt! + +_Thu_. The Devill. [_Claps him on the shoulder_. + +_Lov_. Oh helpe, helpe![106] [_Exit_. + + _Enter Lady_. + +_Lady_. I hope, sir, +Noe occasion offerd in my house +Breedes your distast; I should be sorry if +It be soe, and conceald from me. + +_Thu_. Your goodnes +Is to nice ore me; Ime exceeding well; +Only some erring cogitations +Trouble my braine a little. + +_Lady_. Tis much pitty +Distraction should have roome in you; I would +Not for the love you beare my daughter, have you +Be discont[ent]ed here. + +_Thu_. And your daughter +Repayes me kindly fort. + +_Lady_. Surely her breeding +Affords her better manners then to iniure +A gent[leman] of your deservings? + +_Thu_. Alas, she has not: +Twas but an unkindness triviall +Mong freinds not worth the nameing. + +_Lady_. It was to much +Wert but an ill looke. If I may so far, +Without immodesty, entreat the knowledge +Of what it was Ile chide her for't. Pray, sir,-- +We women are bold suitors; by your looke +It is no meane perplexity her folly +Has cast upon your temper,--pray, disclose it; +And ift be anything the obedience +She owes to me may countermand, she shall +Repent her error. + +_Thu_. Your humanity +Would wrest a secret from me, though my life +Consisted ith concealment: she has abolishd +Her protestations to me, murdred vowes +Which like the blood of Innocents will pull +Cloudes of black vengeance on her, for no cause +I can imagine but her humor; banishd +Me her society and sight for ever.[107] + +_Lady_. Tis above wonder: could I as well rule +Her will as her exterior actions, +She should not thus reject you; but I cannot +Limitt her mind, compell her to affect +Against her liking. If perswations may +Reduse her, Ile endevour it. + +_Thu_. Twilbe needles; +I am resolvd to meet her in revolt, +Hug infidelity with as strong a faith +As she can possible; and if mans mallice +Can passe a womans, my dispight shall winne +Preheminence. I will inquire out one +By nature framd in scorne of bewty, and +In your perfidious daughters presence give her +That heart which she reiected. + +_Lady_. Twere pitty +Your passion should undoe you; you may find +Matches of noble quality: my daughter +In worth's inferior to you, yet I doubt not +But my perswasive oratorie may gaine you +Her forfeited affection. + +_Thu_. Let her reserve it +For them who sue to inioy it; Ile conferr +My fancy on a Negro new reclaim'd +From prostitution; sacrifice my youth +To bedridd age, ere reinthrall my heart +To her insulting bewty. + +_Lady_. Twould be a maime to your discretion +To abjure a certaine and a pleasing good +For an uncertaine harme you would impose +In malice on another. Yo'are a man +In whome the glorious soule of goodnes moves +With such a spacious posture that no woman, +But such a squemish baby as my daughter, +Would be most fortunate to enrich their choyse +With one so much deserving. + +_Thu_. He experience +Your affirmation: could you love me? + +_Lady_. What +I spoake was a contingent supposition +What others might doe, but not argument +I meant to love you. + +_Thu_. But I know you will; +I see a pleasing augury in your looks +Presages mercy; and those eyes, whose lustre +The light (that scornes privation) cannot equall, +Darts beames of comfort on me. + +_Lady_. Twould be rare +Could you perswade me to't, I can find +No such propension in my selfe; beware +Least in this wildnes you ingage your heart +To one cannot accept it. + +_Thun_. Pish! +Ime sure you will: humanity forbids +Refusall of my affection, which shall be +As constant as insep[a]rable heate +To elementall fire.--I'me soddaine, lady, +In my resolve, but firme as fate. + +_Lady_. Surely, +You are not well. + +_Thu_. You are deceivd; I am +Exceeding well yett; all my faculties +Retaine their wonted motion; but Ime like +A new recoverd patient, whose relapse +Admitts no helpe of phisick: in your love +Consists my hope, futurity of health; +And you have too much charity to suffer +Perdition overwhelme me. + +_Lady_. Your confidence +Workes much uppon my lenity; but twould +Occasion scandall; every one would judge +I did supplant my daughter, should I yeild +To your desines. + +_Thu_. Let the censorious world +Fright those with harelipd Calumnie whose guilt +Merritts detraction; your pure innocence +No feind dares vitiatt. + +_Lady_. You have prevaild. + +_Thu_. Ile take you at your word, a holy kisse +Shall seale the contract. [_kisse_. +Avaunt! stand of! she has poysond me, her lips +Are sault as sulpher, and her breath infects, +Noe scorpions like it. + +_Lady_. What ayles you, Sir? + +_Thu_. Ha, ha, ha! +Those who imagine such prodigious mischiefes +Should be more cunning then to be ore reacht +By puisne[108] cosnage; Have you no more judgement +Then to beleive I lov'd you. + +_Lady_. Doe you not love me then? + +_Thu_. Can a man +Robd of a Jewell deare to him as breath +Affect the theife, O murdresse?--for that title +Best suites thy impious quality, since thy curse, +Thy cruell curse, imposd uppon my love, +Has massacred two of the faithfulst hearts +Affection ere united. Though your lust +Desir'd smooth youth to sate it, piety +Might have reclamd you for attempting me, +Your daughter's interest.--Ile not rayle +Cause tis unman[ner]ly,[109] untill you find +What 'tis to cause true lovers prove unkind. + [_Exit_. + + _Enter Alexan_. + +_Lady_. Was I a sleepe? What transitory dreame +Deceivd my sense? did I not here my love +Protest affection? no, it was some feind +Vested in his mortallity, whome hell +Sent to abuse my weaknes. + +_Lov_. She has bin sure tormented with that furie which cla[pt] me on my +shoulder. She talkes of Hell, love and affection. Ha, goe to and goe to! +the old Knight my Mrs. Goast, I hope does not haunt the house. + +_Lady_. Twas he, Ime certaine on't; I felt his lips, +And they were flesh; they breath'd on mine a warmth +Temperate as westerne kisses which the morne +Weaps liquid drops to purchase. This confirmes +It was no apparition that contemnd +My willingnes, but he, his reall selfe, +Mockt my integrity: he must not passe soe, +To blase abroad my infamy. + +_Lov_. Madam, feare nothing, be not troubled; the Goast meant no harme +to you, uppon my life he did not; Goe to and goe to, I say and I sayt, +he did not. He did appeare to me--your love, your husband, my old +Mr.--here, clapt me on the shoulder, as his old custome was still when +he usd to talke with me familiarly. + +_Lady_. But, Sirrah, what familiarity +Have you with any of my privasies? +Sausie groome, practise your ancient duty. + + _Enter Young Mar_. + +_Y. M_. What meanes this fury, Madam? + +_Lady_. O, deare boy, +What haplesse fate exposd thee to the veiw +Of this [sic] sad mothers sorrowes? but I charge thee, +As thou respects thy duty, not to question +The cause of my distemper; my iust feares +Prohibits thee the knowledge of it. + +_Lov_. Why, Sir, she has seene the Divell. + +_Lady_. Ha! + +_Lov_. Nay, Madam, I have don; they say the Divell has no power ore a +Drunkard; once more Ile run the hazard. + +_Y. M_. Whoe, what is he? speake, +For heavens sake, speake: were he defensd with clouds +Or circled with unsteadfast boggs, my rage +Should cut a passage to him. + +_Lady_. Thou strait will grow +More passionate then I: goe to your chamber, +Ile but dispatch these gentlemen. + [_Exit Mar_. + + _Enter Sir Geffery, Crackby, [Suc]ett [and Bun]ch. + +_Sir Gef_. O here she is.--Lady, I and my Nephew, being your good +neighbors and of the worshipfull, I of the Country, he of the Cittie, +have long desird a match with your daughters, but they are coy, so +childish, so unmannerly; I know not how to terme them: they dispise who +worship offers them, they may[110] hereafter doe worse and have worse, +madam. + +_Crac_. My uncle tells your ladiship the truth: +We are noe peasants[111] or unhonorable +To be affronted with indignities. + +_Suc_. Here are men that has seene service. + +_Bunch_. At a mustring or ith Artillery[112] garden. + +_Lady_. 'Twas past my pleasure, good Sir _Geffery_, you have had such +harch entertainement from them: henceforth Ile lay my charge upon them +to be more tractable.--Mr. _Alexander_, goe call my daughters hither. + +_Lov_. She turnes againe.--I shall with all celerity wish them to +approach. [_Exit_. + +_Sir Gef_. Certainly, Madam, I can see no cause +Wherefore at first you might not, without putting +My Knighthood to this trouble, have matched with me +Your selfe; it had been somewhat fitter. + + _Enter Belisea and Clariana_. + +_Bel_. Are these fooles here? + +_Lady_. Minions you might have expresd more kindnes +In your behaviour to these Gent[lemen] +Whom my strict caire provided for your husbands. + +_Bel_. I hope they cannot blame us, we have usd them +With that respect our modesties allowd. + +_Lady_. Your peevish nicenes settle your affections +To a more fayre demeaner towards their worth, +Or you shall seeke a Mother and a portion. + +_Crac_. Nay, if you take away their portions, Ile +Meddle no further with them. + +_Lady_. You both heare +My not to be revoaked intention +Respect this knight and his nephew in the way +Of marriage, or I shall take another order with you. + [_Exit_. + +_Cla_. Was it you, good knight of the ill favord Countenance, +Who procurd us these loving admonitions? + +_Sir Gef_. Nay, and you begin agen, Ile call your Ladie Mother. + +_Suc_. I do protest unto you, beauteous Lady, +You do not cast a favorable aspect. + +_Bel_. I am no Plannet. + +_Crac_. Captaine, you doe me palpable affront: +She is the election of my understanding. + +_Sir Geff_. Retort not so abstrusly.--Will you disdain +The good of honour, condiscend to me +And youthfull write me, lady, in your stile, +And to each thread of thy sun-daseling h[air] +Ile hang a pearle as orient as the gemmes +The eastern Queenes doe boast of. When thou walk[st], +The country lasses, crownd with gorgeous flo[w]res, +Shall fill each path and dance their rural jigs +In honour of this bewty. + +_Cla_. Hey day, where did you borrow this? Sir, youle beg[one]: I feele +the fitt a coming; I shall rayle instantly. + +_Crac_. Baffeld before my Mrs? Death to fame! Captaine, good Captaine. + +_Suc_. Pish, I doe but drill her +For you, friend; you shall have her, say your Captaine +Sayes it, whose words doe ventilate destruction +To all who do oppugn what they designe. + +_Sir Gef_. Come, you shall love me. + +_Cla_. I cannot choose: goe, get you home, antiquity; thinke [of] +heaven, say thy prayers often for thy old sinns and let [thy] maid diett +thee with warme broathes least some cold appoplexis sease thee before +thou art prepard. + +_Sir Gef_. Madam! madam! shees in her old fitt! + +_Cla_. Call her, I care not if she heare me, I councell better than your +physician: every night drinke a good cup of muscadine,[113]--you will +not have moysture left to ingender spitle to cleanse thy mouth ith +morning. Goe, set thy feath[er] right, good mooncalfe[114]: you have +your answeare. + +_Sir Gef_, Contemne an old man and his feather, _Bunch_, +Ile begon, _B[unch]_. + + [_Exeunt Sir Gef. and Bunch_. + +_Cla_. Will you goe?--Sister, I have shakd mine off. +What stayes this nifle[115] for? + +_Crac_. Nay, call me what you will, she is my prise, +And I will keepe her.--Captaine, to her Captaine. + +_Suc_. You must not part thus, Mrs; here are men +Has scapd-- + +_Cla_. The Gallowes. + +_Suc_. Ile rigg you up; although you were a Carack +I shall find tackling for you. + +_Bel_. You are uncivill; pray, desist. + +_Crac_. Not kisse a gentleman? a pretty ring this same: +I have a mind to it and I must have it. + +_Bel_. You will not robb me of it? + +_Suc_. I will intreate this glove which shall adorne +In fight my burgonett. + +_Cla_. Some honest hostesse +Ere this has made a chamber pot of it. + +_Crac_. It is some rivalls ring and I will have it +To weare in spight of him. + +_Bel_. Helpe, Sister, helpe. + + _Enter Bonvill and Grimes_. + +_Bon_. She shall not neede. It is my ring the villaine desires soe +importunatly: what untuterd slave art thou that darst inforce aught +from this gentlewoman. + +_Crac_. Whats that to you? you might have come before me. + +_Bel_. What would you have don? + +_Crac_. Entreated you againe to have come behind me. + +_Bel_. O, my _Bonvill_, so happy a benefit no hand but thine could have +administred. Thou save[d]st the Jewell I esteeme next to my honour,--the +Ring thou gavest me. + +_Crac_. Nay, if you have more right to her than I, takt I pray you:-- +would I were off with a faire broken pate. + +_Suc_. Is your life hatefull to you? + +_Bon_. Why doe you inquire, good puff past? + +_Suc_. My blade +Is of the _Bilbo_[116] mettle; at its splendor +My foes does vanish. + +_Bon_. Ile try that presently;--feare nothing, ladyes. + +_Suc_. Death! now I thinke out, I did breake my blade this morning on +foure that did waylay me: Ile goe fetch another, and then I am for you. + +_Crac_. Take myne, Captaine. + +_Suc_. Hold your peace, be wise: that fellow +In the blew garment has a countenance +Presages losse of limme if we encounter.-- +Ile meet you presently. + +_Bon_. It shall not serve your turne yet: Ile not blunt +My sword upon such stock fish. _Grimes_, bestow +Thy timber on them. + +_Grimes_. Come, sir. [_beats them_. + +_Suc_. Take me without a weapon? this cudgell sure +Is Crabb tree, it tasts so sourely. + [_Exeunt_. + +_Bel_. Oh, my Deare _Bonvill_. + +_Bon_. Mistrisse, I sent an advocate to plead +My guiltless cause: you, too[117] severe a Judge +Forbad him audience; I am therefore come +Once more to prove my innocence. + +_Cla_. Come, without Ceremony +Forgive you her and she shall pardon you +Most willingly. + +_Bon_. Can you have soe much mercy, +You soe much goodnes? + +_Bel_. Noe soule long tir'd with famine, whom kind death +Has new enfranchisd from the loathed flesh, +With happier expedition enters heaven +Then mine thy bosome, _Bonvill_. Let our loves, +Like plants that by their cutting downe shoot up, +Straiter and taller flourish: we are now +Inseperable. + +_Cla_. Your good fates, though I +Repine not at them, makes my unhappy fortunes +Appeare farr more disastrous. + +_Bon_. Whats thy misfortune? + +_Bel_. Alas, my mother has crost her in her affection as she did us. + +_Bon_. She shall +Crosse ours no more. _Belisia_, if youle +Be ruld by me you shall away with me; +None but you sister shall be privy to it, +And sheele keepe Councell. + +_Bel_. Ile goe any whither +To enjoy thy presence; theres no heaven without it. + +_Bon_. You shalbe advertisd where she remaines, +And certifie us how your mother takes it: +When we are married we shall live to thanke you. + +_Cla_. Will you leave me, then? + +_Bel_. Prethee, poore heart, lament not; we shall meet, +And all these stormes blowe over. + +_Cla_. Your tempests past; mine now begins to rise +But Ile allay its violence with my eyes. + + _Exeunt omnes_. + + + + +_Actus Quartus_. + +SCENE 1. + + + _Enter Magdalen, Timothy and Alexander_. + +_Ma_. Run, good sweet _Timothy_; search the barnes, the stab[les], while +I looke in the Chambers. Should she be lost or come to any harme my lady +will hang us all. Why dost not fly? + +_Tim_. Hey day, if her feet walke as fast as thy tongue, sh[e's] far +enough ere this time. What a stir you make! Were you, as shee is, with +your sweet heart, you would [be] pursud, would you? You would be hangd +as soone. Al[as], good gentlewoman, heaven speed her! + +_Ma_. You will not goe then? + +_Tim_. No, indeed, will I not. +Her mother may be angry if she please. +The time has bin she would as willingly +Bin at the sport her selfe as now her daughter. +The ge[ntleman] shees gon with is a man, +And see theres no harme d[one], I warrant you. + +_Lov_. Ha, ha, gramercy, _Timothy_, thou hittst it right. _Maudlin_, goe +to; should _Tim_ here offer as much to you, ha, I beleave you would not +lock your selfe up in my ladyes closett; goe to, and goe to. + + [_Exeunt_. + +_Ma_. Udsme, my lady! + + _Enter Lady_. + +_Lady_. Lost, past redemption! I pursue a fier +Which like the giddy Meteors that seduce +With their false light benighted travellers +Allures me to distruction. To curse fate +Were to allow I feard it, and admit +Participation in me of that spiritt +I most detest, a womans. + +_Lov_. Please your good Ladyship. + +_Lady_. Yes, that you depart.-- [_Exit Alexander_. +What can he see in her more worthy love +Then is in me? shees but a picture drawne +By my dimensions, and men sooner fancy +The Substance then the Shaddow. Oh, but shee +Is the true image not of what I am +But what I was, when like the spring I wore +My virgin roses on my cheeks. + +_Lov_. Madam, you seeme-- + +_Lady_. Angry at your impertinency; learne manners, leave me. + +_Lov_. She has coniurd downe my spirit: these are immodest devills that +make modest ladyes become strickers[118]. Ile out oth storme, take +shelter in the cellar. Goe to and goe to; tis better venter quarriling +mongst those hogesheads. + [_Exit Alexander_. + + _Enter Maudlin [and Timothy.]_ + +_Ma_. Madam, your daughter-- + +_Lady_. Where is she? Who? _Clariana_? + +_Ma_. The faire _Belisea_. + + _Enter Clariana_. + +_Cla_. Did you call me, madam. + +_Lady_. Noe: were you soe neere? begon againe,-- +Yet stay.--_Maudlin_, avoid the Roome, and if you see +Mr. _Thurston_, entreat him hither. _Timothy_, +Find out my son and charge him to delay +The execution of my late comaund +Till I next speake with him. [_Exeunt Mag. and Tim_. +_Clariana_, you did what I comanded? + +_Cla_. Yes, on my Soule. + +_Lady_. But thou art ignorant +Why with such violence I inioyn[e]d thee +To leave thy _Thurstons_ love? + +_Cla_. Were I not sure +Theres nought in him that can be titled ill, +I should have thought your circumspective Judgment +Had spide some error in him, and in care +Of me your child forbidden me his love. +But whatsoer's the cause, though your comaund +Was like perdition welcome, my obedience +Fullfild it truly, without questioning +The reason why or the unlimited power +Of you my mother. + +_Lady_. You did very well. +Now thou shalt know the reason, which before +I doe relate, afford me leave to weepe, +To save thy teares, which at the hearing of it +Will, like the dew on lillies, pearle thy cheekes. +I have beheld thee with a Rivalls eye +In _Thurstons_ love; my penetrable heart, +Like a moist cloud, has opened and receivd +Loves fine bolt into it. Now thou knowst it, +Methinks I see confusion in thy lookes +Prepard to blast me. + +_Cla_. Heaven forbid it I +Should ere conceive the meanest thought of ill +Of you, my parent. Since you love him, here +To heaven and you I give my interest up +And would I could as well commaund his heart +As he might mine, beleive me you should then +Affect you with as true and deare a zeale +As ever I did him: I should be happie +In making you soe. + +_Lady_. Charitable girle, +Forgive thy cruell mother, who must yet +Impose a stronger penance on thy duty: +Thou must go to thy _Thurston_, and obtaine +His love. + +_Cla_. A little labour will serve for that. + +_Lady_. Not for thy selfe but for thy haplesse mother, +Who am, without it, nothing. Woe him for me, +Use the inchanting musicke of thy voice +On my behalfe, who, though thy Rivall, yet +Remember I'm thy mother; nor canst thou +Consigne thy breath to a more holy use +(Though thou shouldst spend it in religious prayers) +Then to redeeme thy parent. Weepe for me, +And in requitall for each drop thou shedst +I'll pay to heaven a Hecatombe of teares +For thy successe. But take good heede, deare child, +While thou art weeping, thou dost not disclose +That face of thine; for, were he mine by vow, +Loves powerfull Retorick uttered [in?] thyne eyes +Would winn from me. + + _Enter Thurston and Thorowgood_. + +_Cla_. Here comes the Gentleman. + +_Lady_. Be earnest, _Clariana_, I shall heare you. + [_Exit_. + +_Tho_. Sir, you must iuistifie this. + +_Thu_. Feare it not; yonder she goes; I'll tell her of it, sheele not +denie it. + +_Cla_. Mr. _Thurston_, whether do you walke soe fast? + +_Thu_. O, _Clarianna_, are you there? + +_Cla_. Nay, stay, I have a suite to you. + +_Thu_. I would +Be loth to offend your eyes; when we last met +You chargd me never to behold you more. + +_Cla_. I did indeed, but on mature advice +I have reclaimd that imposition. +You shall behold me dayly, talke with me, +Doe all the acts that love with Innocence +Can suffer, if youle but overrule your will +To graunt me one request. + +_Thu_. You wrong my faith +In questioning my graunt of any thing +You can desire wer't to undoe my selfe +Or combate miseries as yet unheard of, +You[r] least breath may expose me to them. + +_Cla_. Nay, in this theres no danger; if there be +A real happines on earth, this way +You shall arrive to it. + +_Tho_. He were unwise +Would he not graunt it then. + +_Thu_. Please you declare it. + +_Cla_. There is a lady, +Of such a perfect virtue, grace and sweetnes, +That Nature was to all our sex beside +A niggard, only bountiful to her; +One whose harmonious bewtie may intitule +All hearts its captive: yet she doats on you +With such a masculine fancy that to love her +Is duty in you. + +_Thu_. It is herselfe, Ime sure. + +_Tho_. It surely is no other. + +_Cla_. No, tis one +So farr transcending me, that twere a sinne +Should I deprive you, the most perfect man, +Of her, the perfectest woman. She will weepe +Even at your name; breath miriads of sighes; +Wring her hands thus; demonstrate all the signes +Of a destracted lover; that in pitty, +Though I did love you well, I have transferd +My right to her, and charge you by all ties +That you affect her with the same true zeale +Which you did me, and ift be possible, +Purer and better. + +_Tho_. This is the strangest madnes I ere heard of. + +_Thu_. Is it you, _Clariana_, that speake all this? + +_Cla_. You know and heare it is. + +_Thu_. But I doe scarce +Credit my hearing, or conceive I am +Mortall, for surely, had I bin, your words +Like the decree of heaven had struck me dead. +What strong temptation lay you on my faith! +O, _Clariana_, let me but decline +Passion, and tell you seriously that this +Is cruel in you, first to scorne my love, +Next to admitt a scruple of beleife, +Though you can be perfidious to your selfe, +That I can be soe. Noe; since you are lost, +Ile like the solitary turtle mourne +Cause I must live without you. But, pray, tell me +What is she you would have me love? + +_Cla_. My Mother. + +_Thu_. Ha, your Mother! + +_Tho_. Ist possible, lady? you much doe wrong +Your innocence in laboring to enforce +That upon him which is my interest. Heaven +Smild at the contract twixt us; quiers of Saints +Receivd our mutuall vowes, and though your Mother +May in her passion seeme to have forgott +Her pretious faith, yet when I shall awake +Her sleeping reason with the memory +Of that has past betwixt us, my strong hope +Tells me I shall induce her to the spheare +Which she has movd from. + +_Cla_. Would heaven you could! How coldly in this cause +Doe I perswade! when I would speake, my heart +Checks its bold orator, my tongue, and tells it +Tis traitorous to its Mr.--Noble Sir, [_kneele_ +I doe conceit you infinitly good, +So pittiful that mercy is in you +Even naturally superlative, (forgive me, +If I offend) you doe in this transgresse +Humanity, to let a lady love you +Without requitall. But I must professe +To heaven and you, that here Ile fix to earth, +Weepe till I am a statue, but Ile gaine +Your pitie for her: pray consider ont. + +_Thu_. Consider ont? wonder has soe engrossd +To its wild use all corners of my heart +That there remaines scarce one poore concave left +To hold consideration. I must either +Love her I hate or see her whome I love +Wilfully perish. See, shee kneeles and weeps, +Prays as she meant to expiate all the sinns +Earth ere committed. One of those pure drops +Does (as my lives blood in a soddaine trance) +Surround my heart. You have prevaild, arise: +At your request I will performe an act, +Which may no story hold least all who love +Hereafter curse the president,--Ile love her. +That deathfull word comes from my torturd soule +As a consent doth from a timorous maid +For an enforcing ravisher. + +_Tho_. You are not mad, sir? what doe you meane? + +_Cla_. I thanke you. +But love her dearely, _Thurston_, sheele deserv't: +I doe remember, when my Father livd, +How he would praise her goodnes. Think on me +As one that lovd you well, but neer like her; +And, if you please, bestow each day a kisse +Uppon her in my memory. Soe, farewell.-- +Sorrows flow high: one griefe succeed another; +I die in piety to redeeme my Mother. [_Exit_. + +_Tho_. But, harke you, sir, do you intend to love her. + +_Thu_. Good sir, torment me not. + + _Enter Grimes_. + +_Grimes_. By your leave, gentlemen: good Mr. +_Thorowgood_, a word or two in private. + +_Thu_. Compeld to love my enemy! what man, +That had but so much spiritt as a mule, +Could suffer this! Lay nice prescriptions, +Ambiguous bookmen, on submissive slaves; +Affright with terror of a wilfull death +Those whom black murders of inhumane sin +Has living damnd; Ime yet in my owne heart +White as a babe, as Innocent as light +From any mortall guilt; and were my soule +Drawn fro this mew[119] of flesh twould quickly streatch +Like a swift Falkon her aspiring wings +And soare at heaven. Nature instructs us Death +Is due to all: how can't be then a Sinn +To die, or he more guilty of offense +That kills himselfe or [than?] he who in his bed +Some shivoring ague murders? Ime resol[v']d; +Ile rather chuse to immolate my life +In Martirdome to virtue then reserve't +Till it be staind with mischiefes. + + _Enter Lady_. + +_Lady_. How doe you, sir? + +_Thu_. Oh, oh, my head, my head! +Stand further of, good nightcrow: if thou comst +As a presaging harbinger of death, +Howlt in thy direfulst and most horrid notes, +And ['t] will be wellcome as choyse musick to me +And Ile adore thee fort, with teares of ioy +Make thy black feathers white. + +_Lady_. Good sir, mistake me not, I am your friend. + +_Thu_. I cry you mercy, lady; you are shee +Whom I had vowd to love;--a wild conceite +Had seasd my fancy. Pardon me, I must +Proclaim to heaven and to the world a truth +Which I should study to forget: you are +A Creature so suparlatively bad +That, were the earth as absolute from sinn +As in its first creation, youre sole crimes +Would pull a curse upon it. I should tell you +The specialties wherein you're foule, but dare not +Breath in the same ayre with you; I begin +To feel infection:--fare you well. [_Exit_. + +_Lady_. Contemnd againe! deprive me of the name +And soule of woman! render me a scorne +To the most base of our revengefull sex! +If I beare this while there be knives or swords, +Poyson or ought left to extinguish life +That womans spleene can compasse-- +_Alexander_! within there! + + _Enter Alexander_. + +Goe to my sonn; inioyne him by all rights +Of naturall duty to accomplish that +Which in youre hearing I comanded him. +Beare him this Jewell and this gold, that when +Tis don he may escape; be carefull, +As you expect my favour. + +_Alex_. I shall inculcate your desires unto him. +--Her favour! goe to, theres comfort. + [_Exit_. + + _Enter Thorowgood_. + +_Tho_. Madam, theres one brings a sad message to you. + +_Lady_. From whome, I pray you. + +_Tho_. From two friends of yours +Your cruelty has murdred, + +_Lady_. My cruelty +Never extended to that horrid height, +Not to my foes. Who are they? + +_Tho_. Your daughter, +The innocent _Belisia_, and my friend, +Her worthy suiter, _Bonvill_. + +_Lady_. Your freind and my daughter dead and by my meanes! +This cannot be; my daughters sure in the house. +Good sir, unfould this ridle, it begetts +Wonder and terror in me. + +_Tho_. Madam, you know with what a cruel messuage +You sent me to my friend, which provd as false +As your faire daughter virtuous. Why you did it +I will not question, nor upbraid you with +This violation of your faith. + +_Lady_. This story +Conduces nothing to the deathes you talkd of. + +_Tho_. Yes, since then +A iust mistrust that you would crosse their match +Causd them last night privatly to steale hence +With an intention to have reacht the house +Where _Bonvills_ mother lives; but see the fates +How they dispose of men! crossing the River +That runns beneath your orchard, and ith darke, +Their headstrong horses missing the ford overthrew them +And, which I cannot without true griefe utter, +There drownd them both. +Was it not soe, _Grimes_? + +_Grimes_. Tis too sad a truth; and I, +After all meanes to save their life was past, +Lookd to my owne and got the shore: their bodies +I feare the violence of the tide has carried +Into the Sea by this time. + +_Lady_. Enough, good friend; no more. +Had a rude _Scythian_, ignorant of teares, +Unlesse the wind enforcd them from his eyes, +Heard this relation, sure he would have wept; +And yet I cannot. I have lost all sense +Of pitty with my womanhood, and now +That once essentiall Mistress of my soule, +Warme charity, no more inflames my brest +Than does the glowewormes ineffectual fire +The ha[n]d that touches it. Good sir, desist +The agravation of your sad report; [_Weepe_ +Ive to much greife already. + +_Tho_. It becomes you: +You do appeare more glorious in these t[ears] +Then the red morne when she adornes her cheeks +With _Nabathean_ pearls: in such a posture +Stand _Phaetons_ sisters when they doe distill +Their much prisd amber. Madam, but resume +Your banishd reason to you, and consider +How many Iliads of preposterous mischeife +From your intemperate breach of faith to me +Fetch their loathed essence; thinke but on the love, +The holy love I bore you, that we two +--Had you bin constant--might have taught the wor[ld] +Affections primitive purenes; when, from +Your abrogation of it, Bonvills death, +Your daughter['s] losse have luc[k]lessly insu'd. +The streame that, like a Crocodile, did weepe +Ore them whom with an over ravenous kisse +Its moyst lips stifled, will record your fault +In watery characters as lastingly +As iff twere cut in marble. Heaven, forgive you; +Ile pray for you; repent. + + [_Exeunt Thorowgood and Grimes_. + +_Grimes_. O, my deare Master! + +_Lady_. Repent! should I but spend +The weakest accent of my breath in sighes +Or vaine compunction, I should feare I sinnd +Against my will, then which I doe confes +Noe other diety. Passions[120] doe surround +My intellectual powers; only my heart, +Like to a Rocky Island, does advance +Above the foming violence of the waves +Its unmovd head, bids me my fate outdare. +Ills sure prevention is a swift despaire. + + [_Exit_. + + + +([SCENE] 2.) + + + _Enter Alexander and Young Marlowe_. + +_Alex_. Thinke, sir, to whome the Iniury was don,--go to--your Lady +Mother, a vertuous lady, I say and I sayt agen, a very vertuous lady. +Had I but youth and strength as you have, in what cause should I sooner +hazard both then in this? + +_Y. M_. Murder, my friend! + +_Alex_. Noe, tis doing sacrifice to slaunderd goodnes. + +_Y. M_. Rob my beloved Sister of a husband! + +_Alex_. Yes, to redeeme to your mother her lost honour. + +_Y. M_. Art not a Divell? + +_Alex_. Ha! + +_Y. M_. Thy breath has blasted me. + +_Alex_. I must confes indeed I have eaten garlicke. + +_Y. M_. All pious thoughts that lately fild this spheare +Are scatterd with the winds that issu'd from thee, +Which, like the infectious yawning of a hill, +Belching forth death inevitable, +Has distroyd freindship and nature in me. +Thou canst not poyson worse: I can feed now, +Feed and nere burst with mallice. Sing, Syren, sing +And swell me with revenge sweet as the straines +Falls from the _Thrasian_ lyre; charme each sence +With musick of Revenge, let Innocence +In softest tunes like the expiring Swann +Dy singing her owne Epitaph. + +_Alex_. What meane you, sir? are you mad? goe to and goe to; you doe not +use me well; I say and I say, you do not. Have I this for my love to you +and your good Mother? Why, I might be your Father by my age, which is +falne on me in my old Mrs service; he would have used me better. + +_Y. M_. Dost weepe, old Crocodile? looke dost see this sword. + +_Alex_. Oh, I beseech you, sir; goe to; what meane you? + +_Y. M_. No harme to thee; this was my Fathers once, +My honord Father; this did never view +The glaring Sunn but in a noble cause, +And then returnd home blushing with red spoyles, +Which sung his fame and conquest. Goe, intreat +My Mother be as pleasant as she was +That night my Father got me. I am going, say, +Most cheerfully to finish her comaund. + +_Alex_. Heaven prosper you. Ha! + + _Enter Thurston_. + +_Thu_. Freind, I was looking for you. + +_Y. M_. And you have found me, Villaine. + +_Thu_. What meane you? + +_Y. M_. If thou darst follow me I will conduct thee +Unto the seate of death. + +_Thu_. Dare! Ile goe with thee, hand in hand; goe on. + + [_Exeunt ambo_. + +_Alex_. Goe, goe to and goe to, I say and I sait; here wilbe some +revenge. If the Gent[leman] fall my lady has promist me a farme of +100 pounds a yeare; goe to, then. Now, if her sonn be slayne, heres +then this purse of gold and this rich Jewell which she sent to him. +By this wee see, whoever has the worst, +The fox fares well, but better when hees curst.[121] +Goe to and goe to then. + + [_Exit_. + + + + +_Actus Quintus_. + +(SCENE 1.) + + + _Enter Lady Marlowe sola_. + +_Lady_. Twas[122] here about; these are the poplars, this +The yewe he named. How prettily thees trees +Bow, as each meant to Consecrate a branch +To the drownd lovers! and, methinks, the streame +Pitt[y]ing their herse should want all funerall rights, +Snatches the virgin lillies from his bankes +To strow their watry sepulcher. Who would +Desire an easier wafting to their death +Then through this River? what a pleasing sound +Its liquid fingers, harping on the stones, +Yeilds to th'admiring eare! + + _Enter Thorowgood, Clariana, and Magdalen_. + +_Mag_. This way she went, Ime sure. She has deliv[er']d +So many strang distractions that I feare +Sheele act some wilfull violence on her selfe +If we prevent it not. + +_Cla_. Yonder is somebody among the Trees +Hard by the River: alasse, tis shee! + +_Tho_. Come softly; if she heare our footing, her disp[aire +May] anticipate our diligence. + +_Lady_. Tempt me not, frailty: I disdaine revolt +From ought the awfull violence of my will +Has once[123] determind. Dost thou tremble, flesh? +Ile cure thy ague instantly: I shall, +Like some insatiate drunkard of the age, +But take a cup to much and next day sleepe +An hower more then ordinary. + +_Tho_. Heaven and good Angells guard you! + +_Cla_. My deare Mother! + +_Mag_. My gratious Lady! + +_Lady_. What inhumaine creatures +Are you that rob me of the priviledge +Of wellcome death, which I will run to meet +Spight of your malice! + +_Tho_. Oh decline those thoughts; +Let not the lucid tapers of your soule, +Bright grace and reason, fondly be extinct. +Essentiall virtue, whether art thou fled, +To what unknowne place? wert thou hid mongst ro[cks] +Or horid grots where comfortable light +Hates to dispence its luster, yet my search +Should find thee out, reduce thee to this brest +Once[124] thy lovd Paradice. Pray, madam, pray: +From those faire eyes one penetentiall teare +Would force whole legions of heavens brightest Sa[ints] +If they have power to intercede for earth +To beg for mercy for you. + +_Lady_. These are toyes +Forgd to delude mortality: let me die +And afterwards my uncontroled Ghost +Shall visitt you. I only goe and aske +How my _Belisia_ does enioy her health +Since she exchangd her native ayre of earth +For those dull regions. If I find the clime +Does to our constitutions promise life, +Ile come to you and in those happy shades +Will live in peace eternally. + +[[125]_Cla_. Alas, +I feare shees Irrecoverable. Twas +Ill don to affright her thus. + +_Mag_. Expect the best: +The Gentleman will perswade her. + +_Tho_. O, dispaire, +Grimme homicide of soules, how thou involvst +More haplesse creatures in distracted Ills +Ore [w]home thou triumpst; but Ile fright thee hence: +No feind shall add a trophy to thy acts +For victory over her.] Deare madam, heare me: +You had a noble husband, while he livd; +And I beleive +That no perswasion cold have forcd you yeild +To vitiation of his honord bed, +Not with a prince. And will you give your soule, +Which heaven in its creation had designd +A bride to faire eternity of blisse, +By vild procurement of hells bawd, despaire, +To prostitution of unnaturall death +And then of woes erelasting which admit +Noe diminution? Can you heare this, Madam, +And does the flintie substance of your heart +Not thaw, like to a hill of _Russian_ Ice +When fires applid to't? Yes, your eyes demonstrate +It[126] melts already. + +_Cla_. Deare Mother, please you walke +Into your Chamber: here the wind is cold +And may disease your weaknes. + +_Mag_. Here is your vayle, and't please your ladiship. + +_Lady_. Let me alone, you trouble me; I feele +A soddaine change; each organ of my soule +Suffers a strong vicissitude; and, though +I do detest a voluntary death, +My Conscience tells me that it is most iust +That the cursd author of such impious ills +Ought not to live. + +_Tho_. O thinke not soe: those words +Retaine affinity with that passion +I hop'd youd left. The greatest of your Sinns +Mercy will smile at, when you doe implore +Its unconsuming grace: the dullest cloud +Will, when you pray, be active as the ayre +In opening to receive that breath to heaven +Thats spent to purge your ills. Why, you may live +To make a faire lustration for your faults +And die a happie Convert. + +_[Ho]llow within_: Follow, follow, follow! that way he went. + + _Enter Young Marlowe, Alexander, [Consta]ble and [office]rs_. + +_Y. M_. Hell, I will flie no farther; since my hand +Is guilt in murder it shall sacrifice +Some of my apprehenders. + +_Tho_. Whats the matter? +Deare Sir, what ayles you? + +_Lady_. O my Sonne! I feare. + +_Alex_. Stand back, goe to; what meanes this rudenes. +I say goe to, keepe back. + +_Con_. Sir, we must enter: here he is. I charge you +Asist us to lay hold on him. + +_Lady_. Why, how now, +Fellowes? what makes you presse in here thus rudely? +Whom do you follow? + +_Con_. Madam, Ime sorry my authority +Enforces me to doe it: your sonn iust now +Has slaine one Mr. _Thurstone_, and the law +Commaunds us apprehend him. + +_Y. M_. Here take my sword: +When I but doe waigh the iustnes of the cause +For which I suffer, though I could escape, +My Conscience would forbid me. Come, Ile goe +Whither you please. + +_Lady_. Stay, officers; all accessaries are +As liable to punishment for murder +As those who act it. I confesse twas I +Enforcd my son to slay that gentleman. +Your warrant extends to take me with him. + +_Tho_. Alas, beleive her not; greife for her sonne +Has made her franticke. + +_Lady_. By heaven tis truth! +If you refuse to execute your office +I shall confesse my act unto the Judg +And soe condemne you of partiality. +My Sonn knowes this is truth. + +_Y. M_. I must acknowledge +Mr. _Alexander_ oft did instigate me +To kill him. + +_Con_. Sir, you must clere your selfe of this. + +_Alex_. Who? I? Goe, take the babe from its Mothers teat and taxe him +with this crime. I accessary to a murder! goe to. + +_Con_. Why, and goe to, sir, and avoid resistance; +You must goe. Will your ladiship walke with us? + +_Lady_. Yes, most willingly. +I doe this most abhorrid life despise +Since tis to iustice a iust sacrifice. + + [_Exeunt omnes_. + + + +(SCENE 2.) + + + _A Table: Enter Judge,[127] Sir Geffery, Crackbie, + Suckett, and Bunch_. + + +_Sir Hu_. I doe admire this accident: since I have sat Judge I have not +knowne any such tryall. + +_Sir Gef_. Tis certaine, sir; but looke you, sir, Ile tell you. You do +perceive me sir: as Ime a gentleman I lov'd the lady; but she, out of +her pride, I thinke, or else I were to b[lame] to say soe, scornd me. +Marke you that, sir? understand you that? + +_Sir Hu_. You question my understanding very much, good Sir +_Geffe[rey]_. But pray you, sir, being here more conversant then I, +c[ould] you informe me how this quarrell grew twixt her [and Mr.] +_Thurston_? + +_Sir Gef_. Yes, yes, I can;--but let me see, I have almost forgott; +to say truth, I never heard the reason, but as the wisest guess--hum, +hum--he should have had her daughter. + +_Crac_. I might have had her my self, you know, uncle. + +_Sir Gef_. Peace, Nephew, peace, give Justice leave to speake.--As I +related, the reason I related, Sir, was as I told you. + +_Sir Hu_. You told me nothing yet, Sir _Geffery_. + +_Sir Gef_. Noe? did I not say he should have had her daughter? + +_Sir Hu_. You did; but what does that conduce to their dissention? + +_Sir Gef_. Oh sir, the originall efficient cause,--you understand me? +for suspition whispers he had given her a foule blow and would have left +her. + +_Crac_. Nay, by my birthright, uncle, the child was not his alone, for I +dare sweare I had a hand at least in it. I did endevor fort, did I not, +Captaine? + +_Suc_. Yes, there are others to as well as you; yes, she has struck her +top sayle to a man of warr; she has bin boarded, sir, I can assure you. + +_Sir Hu_. What impudent slaves are these!--But are you sure the +gentlewoman is with child? + +_Sir Gef_. Sure? doe you question it, Sir? _Bunch_, be ready, _Bunch_, +to write their confessions quickly. + +_Bunch_. They are not come yet to confession, sir. + +_Sir Gef_. Noe matter for that, _Bunch_; with the Judges leave weele +here their confession before they come, that we may know the better to +state the cause when they doe come. Ist not best, thinke you? + +_Sir Hu_. Who shall speake for them, thinke you? + +_Sir Gef_. No matter whether any man speake nor noe: we know he killed +the man, and she comanded him, ergo they are guilty; ergoe that must be +their confession, scilicet that they are guilty. Write this, _Bunch_, +and then we will perpend, as law and Judgment guides us, whether we will +save or condemne. How say you, sir? + +_Crac_. Oh well don, uncle! I knew[128] he would prove what he said, +otherwise I would have venturd a sillogisme in Baraly[p]ton to have made +it evident. + +[_Suc_.[129] But with your favour, gentlemen; suppose he did unlive +_Thurston_ in faire duell? + +_Sir Hu_. No duell can be fayre, cause tis against +The kingdomes lawes. + +_Suc_. The kingdomes lawes! how shall +A Gent[leman] that has a blemish cast +Upon his life, faire reputac[i]on, +Have satisfaction then? allow no duells! +Hel! a man of armes had better live in woods +And combate wolves then among such milke sops. +The kingdomes lawes! + +_Crac_. Patience, good Captaine; we will have duells lawful. + +_Suc_. Tis fit they should, being legitimacy managd, sir.] + + _Enter Constable and Prisoners_. + +_Sir Gef_. O, soe; are you come? weele tickle you ifaith. + +_Con_. Soe please you, heare are the prisoners. + +_Sir Hu_. Tis well, we have waited them. Madam, +I should have bin more fortunate to have scene you +In any place but this; and here, +In any other cause then this, I would use you +As the precedent carridge of your life +Has merited, but cannot: y'are a prisoner +Convict of murder, a most hideous crime +Gainst law and nature. + +_Sir Gef_. Yes, marry is it, and that she shall find ere we have don. +_Bunch_, read their indictments, _Bunch_. She had as good have married +me, I warrant her. + +_Sir Hu_. Good Sir _Geffrey_, silence a while. Who is the accuser? + +_Con_. Here. + +_Sir Hu_. What have you, freind, to object against this lady? + +_Con_. That she confesd it was by her procurement and comaunde her sonn +murderd young _Thurston_. + +_Lady_. Please you, sir, that a poore prisoner may entreate one favour. + +_Sir Gef_. Yes, you shall have favour! + +_Sir Hu_. Any thing mercy can graunt unpreiudiciall to Iustice. + +_Lady_. Then this: +You shall not need to produce witnesses +Or charge a Iury to designe me guilty +Of _Thurstons_ murder. I confess it to you, +Twas only I that slew him. + +_Sir Gef_. Marke that, Sir: shee that slew him! do you hear? + +_Sir Hu_. Pray disturbe her not.--How comes it then, Madam, to be +affirmd your Sonn did kill him? + +_Sir Gef_. I, lets heare that, how it comes: well remembred, you did +even speake before me. + +_Crac_. O how learnedly could I speake now, might I have licence! + +_Lady_. Pray, Sir, +Let me not be oppresd with noyse; my cause +Beares not so slender waight. For my owne life, +So many reasons forfeit it to death +That 'twere a Sinn, had I a will to live, +To plead to save it; but for this my sonn +I do beseech a hearing. + +_Sir Hu_. Speake freely, lady. + +_Lady_. Thus then: +Suppose the wrested rigor of your lawes +Uniustly sentenc'd any here to death, +And you enforce on some unwilling man +The present execution of your act, +You will not after cause the instrument +Of your decree, as guilty of his blood, +To suffer as a Homicide: how then +Can your impartiall Judgment +Censure my sonn for this which was my fact? +_Thurston_ the malice of my will wishd dead: +My instigation and severe comaund +Compeld him to atcheiv't, and you will graunt +Noe princes lawes retaine more active force +To ingage a subiect to performe their hests +Then natures does astring a dewtious child +To obey his parent. + +_Sir Gef_. Pish, all this is nothing: there is a flat statute against +it,--let me see,--in Anno vigessimo tricessimo, Henerio octavo be it +enacted,--what followes, _Bunch_? + +_Sir Hu_. Nay, good Sir, peace-- +Madam, these are but wild evasions +For times protraction; for your paritie, +It cannot hold; since Nature does enforce +Noe child to obey his parent in an act +That is not good and iust. + +_Lady_. Why, this seemd both +To his obedience; but relinquish that +And come to Conscience: does it not comaund +In its strict Canons to exact no more +Then blood for blood, unlesse you doe extort +Worse then an usurer. For _Thurstons_ life +I offer myne, which if it be to meane +To appease your Justice, let it satisfie +Your mercie. Spare my Sonn and I shall goe +As willingly to death as to my rest +After a painfull child birthe. Looke on him! +How fitt the subiect is to invite your pittie! +What Tyrant hand would cut this Cedar up +Ere its full groath (at which it stately head +Would give a shade to heaven), or pluck this Rose +As yet scarce blossomd? + +_Sir Gef_. Hum, what says _Bunch_? + +_Lady_. Mercy wilbe proud +T'infold him gently in her Ivory armes, +And, as she walkes along with him, each word +He speakes sheele greedily catch at with a kisse +From his soft lipps such as the amorous Fawnes +Enforce on the light Satyrs. Let[130] me dy +Who, like the palme, when consious that tis void +Of fruite and moysture, prostratly doe begg +A Charitable headsman. + +_Sir Hu_. So bad a cause +Deserves not to be pleaded thus. Deere madam, +Greife overwhelmes me for you, that your guilt +Has damp'd the eyes of mercy and undone +All intercession. Please you desist: +We must proceed to th'examination +Of the other prisoners.-- +Sir _Geffrey_, we shall need your grave assistance: +Sir _Geffrey_, be more attentive. + +_Sir Gef_. Tis very necessary. I wilbe sworne she did bewitch me; I +thinke I was almost asleepe. But now to yee, I faith; come on, what can +you say that Judgment shall not passe against you? + +_Tho_. Sir, you are the Judge here? + +_Sir Hu_. Yes, sir, why question you my power? + +_Tho_. Noe, scarlett man, I question thy witt, +At least thy Humanity and the Conscience +That dares imagine to destroy this wealth, +To hang this matchless diamond in the eare +Of _Ethiope_ Death. Send him to file thy house, +Strike with his dart thy Children and thy selfe, +Gray bearded miscreant, whose best acts compard +With _Thurstons_ murder (cause this lady did [it]) +Are full iniquity. + +[_Suc_.[131] The man speaks home and boldly.] + +_Sir Hu_. Sir, you are fitter for a Jayle, a Bedlam, +Then to stand free before us. +What? art thou mad, man? + +_Sir Gef_. Yes, what are you, Sir. I aske to, though +I know y[ou well] enough. What are you? + +_Tho_. I am one, +To expresse my selfe in my true character, +Soe full of civill reason and iust truth +That to denie my owne peculiar act +I should esteeme as base and black a sinne +As _Scythians_[132] doe adultery: twas I +That gave this lady councell to invade +That _Thurstons_ life, and out of cowardise, +Feareing my person, set this bold young man +To be his murderer. Ime the principall, +The very source from whence this brooke of bloode +Fetches its spring. + +_Sir Hu_. Still more of the conspiracy! Sir, what say +You to these designements? + +_Suc_. Say, sir, you slew the man in equall duell: +Twill bring you off, I warrant you. + +_Sir Gef_. Answere, you youth of valour, you that dare +See men of credit bleede. Ha! + +_Y. M_. Sir, I am to dy, and should I now speake false +Twould be a maine addicon to the ill +What I alone comitted: for this man, +Howsoere his fury does transport his tongue, +Hees guiltlesse on't: I must confesse my Mother +Did, for some private wrong which he had don, +Wish me to call him to account; but this +Steward did with all violence sollicit +That I should slay him. + +_Alex_. Whoe? I? goe to; ist come to this? + +_Sir Hu_. Sir, you must answer this. + +_Sir Gef_. Marke how the mischeife lookes. + +_Alex_. I doe defie thy mallice, thou falce Judge. +Goe to; my [Mrs.] I appeal to, she that knowes my vertue and Integrity. + +_Sir Hu_. Away with him toth Jayle: a publique Sessions may [ere] long +from thence deliver him to the gallowes. + +_Const_. Come, Sir. + [_Exeunt Const, and Alex_. + +_Sir Hu_. Madam, for you and for your Sonn, your crimes +Being soe manifest, I wish you would +Prepare your selves for heaven. Meantime you must remaine +Saffe prissoners untill the Judges sitt, +Who best may give a sentence on your fact. + +_Tho_. And what for me? + +_Sir Gef_. I, what for him, Mr Justice? + +_Sir Hu_. Sure your words +Rather proceed from some distraction +Then from similitude of truth. You may +Begon, we do quitt you. + +_Tho_. And Ile quit my selfe +Of what you will not, [of] my hated life. +You have condemnd a lady who may claime +As many slaves to wait on her in death +As the most superstitious _Indian_ prince +(That carries servants to attend ith grave) +Can by's prerogative; nor shall she want +Waiters, while you and I, my reverend Judg, +Are within reach of one another. + [_Offers att the Record_. + +_Suc_. Death, Sir! +Dare you presume to draw before us men +Of stout performance? + +_Sir Gef_. You sir, weele have you hangd to, sir, with the Steward. + +_Sir Hu_. We doe forgive him; twas his passion. +Tis manly to forbeare infirmities +In noble soules. +Away with the delinquents, officers![133] + +_Sir Gef_.[134] I charge you looke to them: there is +some rescue intended, I warrant you. + +_Con_. Sir, yonder are some six or seaven without, +Attird like Masquers, that will not be denied +Admittance. + +_Sir Hu_. What are they? + +_Con_. [Faith[135]] we know not, +Nor will they tell us, only this they say: +Heareing of the lady _Marlowe's_ condemnation, +They are come +With shew of death to make her more prepard fort. + +_Sir Hu_. We will deny none of her freinds to see her; +They can intend noe rescue. + +_Con_. Noe, my life ont, sir: they come unarm'd. + +_Sir Hu_. Be still; letts see this misterie. + + _Florish, Horrid Musike. Enter Death, Gri., and Furies_. + +_Gri_. If in charnell houses, Caves, +Horrid grots and mossie graves, +Where the mandraks hideous howles +Welcome bodies voide of soules, +My power extends, why may not I +Hugg those who are condemd to dy? +Grimme _Dispaire_, arise and bring +_Horror_ with thee and the king +Of our dull regions; bid the rest +Of your Society be addrest, +As they feare the frowne of chaunce, +To grace this presense with a daunce. + + _Recorders. Enter Hymen and the Lovers_. + +_Tim_. _Death_, avaunt! thou hast no power; +This is _Hymens_ happie hower. +Away to the dark shades! hence! +And, grim _Dispaire_, let _Innocence_ +Triumph, and bring eternall peace +To all your soules and Joys increase. +Smile, smile, sweet ayre, on us that come +To sing _Deaths_ Epicedium. +Extract from roses gentlest winds, +Such odors as young _Hymen_ finds +At sweet _Arabian_ nuptialls; let +The youthfull graces here beget +Soe smooth a peace that every breath +May blesse this marriage of _Death_. +Feare nothing, lady, whose bright eye +Sing'd _Deaths_ wings as he flew by: +Wee therefore, trust me, only come +To sing _Deaths_ Epicedium. [_discover_, + +_Tim_. Stay, stay, by your leave Mr. Justice.-- +Madam,[136] your servant _Timothy_ brings you newes +You must not dy. Know you this Gentleman? + +_Sir Gef_. Now, on my knighthood, Mr. _Thurston_. + +_Lady_. Amazement leave me: is he living? + +_Sir Hu_. Are we deluded? + +_Tim_. So it appeares, Sir: the gent[leman] never had hurt; hees here, +and let him speake for himselfe and this gentlewoman his wife. + +_Lady_. Who? _Clariana_? + +_Thu_. With your leave, reverend father.--To you, Madam, +Whome I must now call Mother, first your pardon +That the conceivd report of my faind death +Has brought you to this triall: next +For this your daughter and your sonn, whose virtues +Redeemd [me] from the death your rage had thought +I should have suffred, he agreeing with me +Consented to appeach himselfe of that +He nere intended, and procurd this man +As his accuser of my murder, which +Was but contrivd to let you see the error +Of your sterne malice; that, acquainted with +The foulenesse of the fact, by the effect +You might repent it and bestow your blessing +On us your Suppliant Children. + +_Cla_. Which we beg +With hearty sorrow, if we have transgresd +Our duty to you. + +_Sir Hu_. I am happie to see so blesd a period. + +_Sir Gef_. Ha, ha, widdow, are you come of thus, widdow? You may thanke +me: I hope youle have me now, widdow. + +_Lady_. This soddaine comfort, +Had I not yet a relique left of greife, +Would like a violent torrent overbeare +The banks of my mortallity. Oh, _Thurston_, +Whom I respect with a more sacred love +Then was my former; take my blessing with her +And all the wishes that a ioyfull mother +Can to a child devote: had my _Belisia_ +And her deare _Bonvill_ livd, this happy day +Should have beheld a double wedding. + +[_Suc_.[137] Death, must he have her then?] + +_Sir Hu_. Spoake like a mother. + +_Tho_. Madam, +The surplusage of love that's in my breast +Must needs have vent in gratulation +Of your full ioyes. Would you mind your promise, +And make me fortunate in your love! + +_Lady_. Sir, I have vowd, +Since by my meanes my daughter and her love +Perishd unhappily, to seclude my selfe +From mans Society. + + [_Bonvil, Belisia, and Grimes discover_. + +_Tho_. Weele cancell +That obligation quickly.--Lady, I now +Will urge your promise: twas a plot betwixt us +To give them out for drownd, least your pursuite +Should have impeachd their marriage, which is now +Most iustly consummate; and[138] only I +Remaine at your devotion for a wife. + +_Lady_. Take her, +And with me a repentance as profound +As Anchorites for their sin pay. + +_Sir Hu_. Madam, how blest am I +To see you thus past hope recovered, +My mirth at your faire wedding shall demonstrate. + +_Sir Gef_. I will daunce too, that[s] certain, though +I breake my legs or get the tissick. + +[_Suc_.[139] Doe you know me, Sir? + +_Bon_. Yes, very well, sir. + +_Suc_. You are married, sir. + +_Bon_. I, what of that? + +_Suc_. Nothing, but send you Joy, sir?] + +_Lady_. But where's my Steward? hees not hangd I hope: +This mirth admits no Tragedy. + +_Gri_. Behold the figure. + +_Alex_. I crave forgivenesse. + +_Lady_. Goe to, you have it. + +_Alex_. Thanke you, madam,--I, I will goe to and goe to, and there be +ere a wench to be got for love or money, rath[er] then plot murder: tis +the sweeter sinn of [the two]; besides, theres noe danger of ones cragg; +[the] worst is but stand in one sheet for ly[ing] in two: and therefore +goe to and goe to, I [say] and I sayt agen. + +_Sir Gef_. _Bunch_ take my cloake, _Bunch_; it shal [not] be sed, so +many weddings and nere a Da[nce]: for soe many good turnes the hangman +ha done you, theres one for all, hey! + +_Tho_. Well said, Sir _Geffrey_. + +_Sir Gef_. Hey, when I was young! but come, we loose [time]: every one +his lasse, and stricke up Musick! + + _Daunce_. + +_Lady_. Now, gentlemen, my thanks to all, and since +[I]t is my good hap to escape these ills, +Goe in with me and celebrate this feast +With choyse solemnitie; where our discourse +Shall merrily forgett these harmes, and prove +Theres no Arraingment like to that of love. + + [_Exeunt omnes_. + + +FINIS. + + + +_This Play, call'd the Lady Moth[er] (the Reformacons observ'd) may be +acted. October the xvth_, 1635. + +WILL. BLAGRAVE, _Dept. to the [Master] of the Revell[s]_. + + + + + + +INTRODUCTION TO THE TRAGEDY OF SIR JOHN VAN OLDEN BARNAVELT. + + +I have never met anywhere with the slightest allusion to this fine +historical play, now for the first time printed from a MS.[140] in the +British Museum (Add. MS. 18,653). It is curious that it should have been +left to the present editor to call attention to a piece of such +extraordinary interest; for I have no hesitation in predicting that +Barnavelt's Tragedy, for its splendid command of fiery dramatic +rhetoric, will rank among the masterpieces of English dramatic +literature. + +On a first rapid inspection I assumed, with most uncritical +recklessness, that Chapman was the author. There are not wanting points +of general resemblance between Chapman's Byron and the imperious, +unbending spirit of the great Advocate as he is here represented; but in +diction and versification, the present tragedy is wholly different from +any work of Chapman's. When I came to transcribe the piece, I soon +became convinced that it was to a great extent the production of +Fletcher. There can, I think, be no reasonable doubt about the +authorship of such lines as the following:-- + + "_Barnavelt_. My noble Lords, what is't appeares upon me + So ougly strange you start and fly my companie? + What plague sore have ye spide, what taynt in honour, + What ill howre in my life so cleere deserving + That rancks in this below your fellowships? + For which of all my cares, of all my watches, + My services (too many and too mightie + To find rewards) am I thus recompenced, + Not lookd on, not saluted, left forgotten + Like one that came to petition to your honours-- + Over the shoulder slighted? + + _Bredero_. Mounsieur _Barnavelt_, + I am sorry that a man of your great wisdom + And those rare parts that make ye lov'd and honourd, + In every Princes Court highly esteemd of, + Should loose so much in point of good and vertue + Now in the time you ought to fix your faith fast, + The credit of your age, carelessly loose it,-- + dare not say ambitiously,--that your best friends + And those that ever thought on your example + Dare not with comon safetie now salute ye" (iii. 1). + +Such a verse as,-- + + "In every Princes Court highly esteemd of," + +or,-- + + "Now in the time you ought to fix your faith fast," + +can belong only to Fletcher. The swelling, accumulative character of the +eloquence is another proof; for Fletcher's effects are gained not by a +few sharp strokes, but by constant iteration, each succeeding line +strengthening the preceding until at last we are fronted by a column of +very formidable strength. Let us take another extract from the same +scene:-- + + "_Barnavelt_. When I am a Sychophant + And a base gleaner from an others favour, + As all you are that halt upon his crutches,-- + Shame take that smoothness and that sleeke subjection! + I am myself, as great in good as he is, + As much a master of my Countries fortunes, + And one to whom (since I am forc'd to speak it, + Since mine own tongue must be my Advocate) + This blinded State that plaies at boa-peep with us, + This wanton State that's weary of hir lovers + And cryes out 'Give me younger still and fresher'! + Is bound and so far bound: I found hir naked, + Floung out a dores and starvd, no friends to pitty hir, + The marks of all hir miseries upon hir, + An orphan State that no eye smild upon: + And then how carefully I undertooke hir, + How tenderly and lovingly I noursd hir! + But now she is fatt and faire againe and I foold, + A new love in hir armes, my doatings scornd at. + And I must sue to him! be witnes, heaven, + If this poore life were forfeyt to his mercy, + At such a rate I hold a scornd subjection + I would not give a penney to redeeme it. + I have liv'd ever free, onely depended + Upon the honestie of my faire Actions, + Nor am I now to studdy how to die soe." + +The whole scene is singularly fine and impressive; it shows us Fletcher +at his highest. + +But in other passages we find a second hand at work. In the second scene +of the third act there is far less exuberance of language and a +different style of versification, as may be seen in the following +lines:-- + + "_Orange_. My grave Lords, + That it hath byn my happines to take in, + And with so little blood, so many Townes + That were falne off, is a large recompence + For all my travell; and I would advise + That (since all now sing the sweet tunes of Concord, + No Sword unsheathd, the meanes to hurt cut off + And all their stings pluckd out that would have usd them + Against the publique peace) we should end here + And not with labour search for that which will + Afflict us when 'tis found. Something I know + That I could wish I nere had understood, + Which yet if I should speake, as the respect + And duty that I owe my Country bids me, + It wilbe thought 'tis rather privat spleene + Then pious zeale. But that is not the hazard + Which I would shun: I rather feare the men + We must offend in this, being great, rich, wise, + Sided with strong friends, trusted with the guard + Of places most important, will bring forth + Rather new births of tumult, should they be + Calld to their Triall, then appease disorder + In their just punishment; and in doing Justice + On three or four that are delinquents, loose + So many thousand inocents that stand firme + And faithfull patriots. Let us leave them therefore + To the scourge of their owne consciences: perhaps + Th'assurance that they are yet undiscoverd, + Because not cyted to their answeare, will + So work with them hereafter to doe well + That we shall joy we sought no farther in it." + +Here we have vigorous writing, staid and grave and unimpassioned, and a +more regular metre. In determining questions of authorship I have so +often found myself (and others, too) at fault, that I shrink from +adopting the dictatorial tone assumed in these matters by learned +Germans and a few English scholars. But I think in the present instance +we may speak with tolerable certainty. Before my mind had been made up, +my good friend, Mr. Fleay, pronounced strongly in favour of Massinger. +He is, I think, right; in fact, it is beyond the shadow of a doubt that +Massinger wrote the speech quoted above. In all Massinger's work there +is admirable ease and dignity; if his words are seldom bathed in tears +or steeped in fire, yet he never writes beneath his subject. He had a +rare command of an excellent work-a-day dramatic style, clear, vigorous, +free from conceit and affectation. But he is apt to grow didactic, and +tax the reader's patience; and there is often a want of coherence in his +sentences, which amble down the page in a series of loosely-linked +clauses. I will not examine scene by scene in detail; for I must frankly +confess that I feel myself sometimes at a loss to determine whether a +particular passage is by Fletcher or Massinger. Most of the impassioned +parts belong, I think, to the former. I would credit Massinger with the +admirably conducted trial-scene in the fourth act; but the concluding +scene of the play, where Barnavelt is led to execution, I would ascribe, +without hesitation, to Fletcher. In the scene (v. 1) where the French +ambassador pleads for Barnavelt we recognise Massinger's accustomed +temperance and dignity. To the graver writer, too, we must set down +Leydenberg's solemn and pathetic soliloquy (iii. 6), when by a voluntary +death he is seeking to make amends for his inconstancy and escape from +the toils of his persecutors. + +There is no difficulty in fixing the date of the present play. Barneveld +was executed on May 13, 1619, and the play must have been written +immediately afterwards, when all Christendom was ringing with the news +of the execution. In the third scene of the first act there is a +marginal note signed "G.B." The initials are unquestionably those of Sir +George Buc, Master of the Revels from 1610 to 1622.[141] On comparing +the note with an autograph letter[142] of Sir George's I find the +hand-writing to correspond exactly. The date, therefore, cannot be later +than 1622, but the probability is that the play was produced at +Michaelmas, 1619. + +In our own day the great Advocate's fame, which had been allowed to fall +into neglect, has been revived with splendour by Mr. Motley, whose "Life +of John of Barneveld" is a monument _aere perennius_ of loving labour, +masterful grasp, and rare eloquence. Had the dramatists been in +possession of a tithe of the facts brought to light from mouldering +state documents by the historian, they would have regarded Barneveld's +faults with a milder eye, and shown more unqualified praise for his +great and noble qualities. But they are to be commended in that they saw +partially through the mists of popular error and prejudice; that they +refused to accept a caricature portrait, and proclaimed in unmistakable +accents the nobility of the fallen Advocate. Perhaps it is not so +strange that this tragedy dropped from sight. Its representation +certainly could not have been pleasing to King James; for that +murderous, slobbering, detestable villain had been untiring in his +efforts to bring about Barneveld's ruin. + +Throughout the play there are marks of close political observation. To +discover the materials from which the playwrights worked up their solid +and elaborate tragedy would require a more extensive investigation than +I care to undertake. An account of Barneveld's trial, defence, and +execution may be found in the following tracts:-- + +([Greek: alpha]) "Barnavel's Apologie, or Holland's Mysteria: with +marginall Castigations, 1618." The Apology, originally written in Dutch, +had been translated into Latin, and thence into English. The +Castigations, by "Robert Houlderus, Minister of the Word of God," are +remarkable, even in the annals of theological controversy, for gross +blackguardism. After indulging in the most loathsome displays of foul +brutality, this "Minister of the Word of God" ends with the cheerful +prayer,--"That they whom Thou hast predestinated to salvation may +alwayes have the upper hand and triumph in the certainty of their +salvation: but they whom Thou has created unto confusion, and as vessels +of Thy just wrath, may tumble and be thrust headlong thither whereto +from all eternitie Thou didst predestinate them, even before they had +done any good or evil." + +([Greek: beta]) "Newes out of Holland: concerning Barnavelt and his +fellow-Prisoners, their Conspiracy against their Native Country with the +enemies thereof: The Oration and Propositions made in their behalfe unto +the Generall States of the United Provinces at the Hage, by the +Ambassadours of the French King," &c., 1619. + +([Greek: gamma]) "The Arraignment of John Van Olden Barnavelt, late +Advocate of Holland and West Freisland. Containing the articles +alleadged against him and the reasons of his execution," &c., 1619. + + * * * * * + +"This magnificent play is mainly the production of Fletcher and +Massinger: it must have been written between May, 1619, and May, 1622, +for the King's company acting at Blackfriars. T[homas] Hol[combe] acted +a woman's part in it: so did G. Lowin, perhaps a son of John Lowin, +unless indeed G. is a miswriting for J., as sometimes happens. It is +singular that one has no knowledge whatever of Thomas Holcombe, except +as an actor in Fletcher's plays: although so many of the lists of the +king's men of that date have come down to us. Mr. Gough who took the +part of Leidenberg, is Robert Gough, not Alexander: the latter acted +only in Charles I.'s time. Another actor, Michael, is unknown: probably +a super."--F.G. FLEAY. + +Since the above paragraph was written, I have found in the MS. the names +of three more actors, Jo[hn] Rice, Bir[ch], and T[homas] Po[llard]. The +following note, for which I am indebted to Mr. Fleay, will be read with +interest:--"It is noticeable that a play called the Jeweller of +Amsterdam or the Hague, by John Fletcher, Nathaniel Field, and Phillip +Massinger, was entered on the Stationers' Books 8th April, 1654, but not +printed. This play must have been written between 1617 and 1619, while +Field was connected with the King's company, and undoubtedly referred to +the murder of John Van Wely, the Jeweller of Amsterdam, by John of +Paris, the confidential groom of Prince Maurice, in 1619. It is _primâ +facie_ likely that the same authors would be employed on both plays. +Field, Daborne, Dekker and Fletcher are the only authors known to have +written in conjunction with Massinger; and Dekker and Daborne are out of +the question for that company at that date. We are now enabled to fix +the date of the 'Fatal Dowry,' by Field and Massinger, as c. 1618." + + + + +THE TRAGEDY OF SIR JOHN VAN OLDEN BARNAVELT. + + + + +Sir John Van Olden Barnavelt. + + + +_Actus Primus_. + +SCAENA PRIMA. + + + _Enter Barnavelt, Modes-bargen, Leidenberck, and Grotius_. + +_Bar_. The Prince of _Orange_ now, all names are lost els! +That hees alone the Father of his Cuntrie! +Said you not so? + +_Leid_. I speake the peoples Language. + +_Bar_. That to his arme and sword the Provinces owe +Their flourishing peace? that hees the armyes soule +By which it moves to victorie? + +_Mod_. So 'tis said, Sir. + +_Leid_. Nay, more; that without him dispaire and ruyn +Had ceazd on all and buried quick our safeties. + +_Gro_. That had not he in act betterd our counsailes +And in his execution set them off, +All we designd had ben but as a tale +Forgot as soone as told. + +_Leid_. And with such zeale +This is deliverd that the Prince beleeves it; +For Greatnes, in her owne worth confident, +Doth never waigh but with a covetous hand +His lightest meritts, and who add to the scale +Seldom offend. + +_Gro_. 'Tis this that swells his pride +Beyond those lymitts his late modestie +Ever observd. This makes him count the Soldier +As his owne creature, and to arrogate +All prosperous proceedings to himself; +Detracts from you and all men, you scarce holding +The second place. + +_Bar_. When I gave him the first: +I robd myself, for it was justly mine. +The labourinthes of pollicie I have trod +To find the clew of safetie, for my Cuntrie +Requird a head more knowing and a courage +As bold as his,--though I must say 'tis great. +His stile of Excellencie was my guift; +Money, the strength and fortune of the war, +The help of _England_ and the aide of _Fraance_, +I only can call mine: and shall I then, +Now in the sun-set of my daie of honour, +When I should passe with glory to my rest +And raise my Monument from my Cuntries praises, +Sitt downe and with a boorish patience suffer +The harvest that I labourd for to be +Anothers spoile? the peoples thancks and praises, +Which should make faire way for me to my grave, +To have another object? the choice fruites +Of my deepe projects grace anothers Banquet? +No; this ungratefull Cuntry, this base people, +Most base to my deserts, shall first with horrour +Know he that could defeat the _Spanish_ counsailes +And countermyne their dark works, he that made +The State what 'tis, will change it once againe +Ere fall with such dishonour. + +_Mod_. Be advisd, Sir; +I love you as a friend, and as a wise man +Have ever honourd you: be as you were then, +And I am still the same. Had I not heard +Theis last distemperd words, I would have sworne +That in the making up of _Barnavelt_ +Reason had only wrought, passion no hand in't. +But now I find you are lesse then a man, +Lesse then a common man, and end that race +You have so long run strongly like a child, +For such a one old age or honours surfeyts +Againe have made you. + +_Bar_. This to me? + +_Mod_. To you, Sir: +For is't not boyish folly (youthfull heat +I cannot call it) to spume downe what all +His life hath labourd for? Shall _Barnavelt_ +That now should studie how to die, propound +New waies to get a name? or keep a being +A month or two to ruyn whatsoever +The good succes of forty yeeres employment +In the most serious affaires of State +Have raisd up to his memory? And for what? +Glory, the popular applause,--fine purchase +For a gray beard to deale in! + +_Gro_. You offend him. + +_Mod_. 'Tis better then to flatter him as you doe. +Be but yourself againe and then consider +What alteration in the State can be +By which you shall not loose. Should you bring in +(As heaven avert the purpose and the thought +Of such a mischief) the old Tirrany +That _Spaine_ hath practisd, do you thinck you should be +Or greater then you are or more secure +From danger? Would you change the goverment, +Make it a Monarchie? Suppose this don +And any man you favourd most set up, +Shall your authoritie by him encrease? +Be not so foolishly seducd; for what +Can hope propose to you in any change +Which ev'n now you posses not? + +_Bar_. Doe not measure +My ends by yours. + +_Mod_. I know not what you ayme at. +For thirtie yeeres (onely the name of king +You have not had, and yet your absolute powre +Hath ben as ample) who hath ben employd +In office, goverment, or embassie, +Who raisd to wealth or honour that was not +Brought in by your allowaunce? Who hath held +His place without your lycence? Your estate is +Beyond a privat mans: your Brothers, Sonnes, +Frendes, Famylies, made rich in trust and honours: +Nay, this grave _Maurice_, this now Prince of _Orange_, +Whose popularitie you weakely envy, +Was still by you commaunded: for when did he +Enter the feild but 'twas by your allowaunce? +What service undertake which you approv'd not? +What victory was won in which you shard not? +What action of his renownd in which +Your counsaile was forgotten? Yf all this then +Suffice not your ambition but you must +Extend it further, I am sorry that +You give me cause to feare that when you move next +You move to your destruction. + +_Bar_. Yf I fall +I shall not be alone, for in my ruyns +My Enemies shall find their Sepulchers. +_Modes-bargen_, though in place you are my equall, +The fire of honour, which is dead in you, +Burnes hotly in me, and I will preserve +Each glory I have got, with as much care +As I acheivd it. Read but ore the Stories +Of men most fam'd for courage or for counsaile. +And you shall find that the desire of glory +(That last infirmity of noble minds) +Was the last frailty wise men ere putt of: +Be they my presidents. + +_Gro_. 'Tis like yourself, +Like _Barnavelt_, and in that all is spoken. + +_Leid_. I can do something in the State of _Utrecht_, +And you shall find the place of Secretarie, +Which you conferd upon me there, shall be, +When you employ me, usefull. + +_Gro_. All I am +You know you may commaund: Ile nere enquire +What 'tis you goe about, but trust your counsailes +As the Auncients did their Oracles. + +_Mod_. Though I speak +Not as a flatterer, but a friend, propound +What may not prejudice the State, and I +Will goe as far as any. + + _Enter 2 Captaines_. + +_Bar_. To all my service:[143] +Ere long you shall know more.--What are theis? + +_Leid_. Captaines +That raild upon the Comissary. + +_Bar_. I remember. + +1 _Cap_. Why, you dare charge a foe i'the head of his troope, +And shake you to deliver a petition +To a statesman and a frend? + +2 _Cap_. I need not seek him, +He has found me; and, as I am a soldier, +His walking towards me is more terrible +Then any enemies march I ever mett with. + +1 _Cap_. We must stand to it. + +_Bar_. You, Sir, you? + +2 _Cap_. My Lord. + +_Bar_. As I use this I waigh you: you are he +That when your Company was viewd and checkd +For your dead paies,[144] stood on your termes of honour, +Cryde out "I am a Gentleman, a Commaunder, +And shall I be curbd by my lords the States," +(For thus you said in scorne) "that are but Merchants, +Lawyers, Apothecaries, and Physitians, +Perhaps of worser ranck"? But you shall know, Sir, +They are not such, but Potentates and Princes +From whom you take pay. + +1 _Cap_. This indeed is stately: +Statesmen, d'you call 'em? + +2 _Cap_. I beseech your Lordship: +'Twas wine and anger. + +_Bar_. No, Sir; want of dutie: +But I will make that tongue give him the lye +That said soe, drunck or sober; take my word for't. +Your Compaine is cast: you had best complaine +To your Great Generall, and see if he +Can of himself maintaine you,--Come, _Modes-bargen_. + + [_Exeunt Barnavelt, Modes-bargen, and Grotius_, + +_Leid_. I am sorry for you, Captaine, but take comfort: +I love a Soldier, and all I can doe +To make you what you were, shall labour for you. +And so, good morrow, Gentlemen. + [_Exit_. + +1 _Cap_. Yet theres hope; +For you have one friend left. + +2 _Cap_. You are deceivd, Sir, +And doe not know his nature that gave promise +Of his assistance. + +1 _Cap_. Who is't? + +2 _Cap_. _Leidenberck_. +One of the Lords, the States, and of great powre too; +I would he were as honest. This is he +That never did man good, and yet no Suitor +Ever departed discontented from him. +Hee'll promise any thing: I have seene him talke +At the Church dore with his hat of to a Begger +Almost an houre togeather, yet when he left him +He gave him not a doyt. He do's profes +To all an outward pitty, but within +The devills more tender: the great plague upon him! +Why thinck I of him? he's no part of that +Must make my peace. + +1 _Cap_. Why, what course will you take then? + +2 _Cap_. A Bribe to _Barnavelts_ wiffe, or a kind wench +For my yong lord his Son, when he has drunck hard. +There's no way els to doo't. + +1 _Cap_. I have gold good store +You shall not want that; and if I had thought on't +When I left _London_, I had fitted you +For a convenient Pagan. + +2 _Cap_. Why, is there +Such store they can be spard? + +1 _Cap_.[145] ... ... ... + +2 _Cap_. I thanck you, Sir. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +SCAENA 2. + + + _Enter[146] Barnavelt, Modes-bargen, Leidenberck, + Grotius, and Hogebeets_. + +_Bar_. The States are sitting: all that I can doe +Ile say in little; and in me theis Lords +Promise as much. I am of your belief +In every point you hold touching religion, +And openly I will profes myself +Of the _Arminian_ sect. + +_Gro_. You honour it. + +_Hog_.[147] And all our praires and service. + +_Bar_. Reverend man +Your loves I am ambitious of. Already +'Tis knowne I favour you, and that hath drawne +Libells against me; but the stinglesse hate +Of those that wryte them I contempne. + +_Hog_. They are worthie +Of nothing but contempt. + +_Bar_. That I confes, too; +But yet we must expect much opposition +Ere your opinions be confirmd. I know +The _Prince of Orange_ a sworne enemie +To your affections: he has vowd to crosse you, +But I will still stand for you. My advice is +That, having won the Burgers to your partie, +Perswade them to enroll new Companies +For their defence against the Insolence +Of the old Soldiers garisond at _Utrecht_. +Yet practise on them, too, and they may urge this: +That since they have their pay out of that Province, +Justice requires they should be of their partie: +All that is don in _Utrecht_ shalbe practisd +In _Roterdam_ and other Townes I name not. +Farther directions you shall have hereafter, +Till when I leave you. + +_Gro_. With all zeale and care +We will performe this. [_Exit_.[148] + +_Leid_. This foundation +Is well begun. + +_Gro_. And may the building prosper. + +_Mod_. Yet let me tell you, where Religion +Is made a cloke to our bad purposes +They seldom have succes. + +_Bar_. You are too holly: +We live now not with Saincts but wicked men, +And any thriving way we can make use of, +What shape so ere it weares, to crosse their arts, +We must embrace and cherish; and this course +(Carrying a zealous face) will countenaunce +Our other actions. Make the Burgers ours, +Raise Soldiers for our guard, strengthen our side +Against the now unequall opposition +Of this Prince that contemns us;[149] at the worst, +When he shall know there are some Regiments +We may call ours, and that have no dependaunce +Upon his favour, 'twill take from his pride +And make us more respected. + +_Mod_. May it prove so. + + _Enter Bredero, Vandort, Officers_. + +_Bre_. Good day, my Lord. + +_Vand_. Good Mounseiur Advocate, +You are an early stirrer. + +_Bar_. 'Tis my dutie +To wayte your Lordships pleasure: please you to walke. + +_Bre_. The Prince is wanting, and this meeting being +Touching the oath he is to take, 'twere fitt +That we attend him. + +_Bar_. That he may set downe +What he will sweare, prescribing lymitts to us! +We need not add this wind by our observaunce +To sailes too full alredy. Oh, my Lords, +What will you doe? Have we with so much blood +Maintaind our liberties, left the allegeaunce +(How justly now it is no time to argue) +To _Spaine_, to offer up our slavish necks +To one that only is what we have made him? +For, be but you yourselves, this _Prince of Orange_ +Is but as _Barnavelt_, a Servant to +Your Lordships and the State; like me maintaind; +The pomp he keepes, at your charge: will you then +Wayt his prowd pleasure, and in that confes, +By daring to doe nothing, that he knowes not-- +You have no absolute powre? + +_Van_. I never sawe +The Advocate so mov'd. + +_Bar_. Now to be patient +Were to be treacherous: trust once his counsaile +That never yet hath faild you. Make him know +That any limb of this our reverend Senate +In powre is not beneath him. As we sitt +Ile yeild you further reasons; i'the meane time +Commaund him by the Officers of the Court +Not to presse in untill your Lordships pleasure +Be made knowne to him. + +_Vand_. 'Tis most requisite. + +_Leid_. And for the honour of the Court. + +_Vand_. Goe on; +You have my voice. + +_Bre_. And mine;--yet wee'll proceed +As judgement shall direct us. + +_Vand_. 'Tis my purpose. + +_Bar_. In this disgrace I have one foote on his neck; +Ere long Ile set the other on his head +And sinck him to the Center. + +_Leid_. Looke to the dores there. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +SCAENA 3. + + + _Enter[150] Pr. of Orange, Gra: William, + Collonells & Captaines_. + +_Or_. I, now methincks I feele the happynes +Of being sproong from such a noble father, +That sacrifizd his honour, life and fortune +For his lov'd Cuntry. Now the blood and kindred +Of _Horne_ and _Egmont_ (Memories great Martires), +That must outlive all _Alva's_ Tirranies +And when their Stories told ev'n shake his ashes, +Methincks through theis vaines now, now at this instant, +I feele their Cuntries losse; I feele[151] too-- + +_Will_. All feele sencibly, +And every noble hart laments their miseries, +And every eie, that labours not with mallice, +Sees your great services and through what dangers +You have raisd those noble speritts monuments. + +_Or_. What I have don I look not back to magnifie; +My Cuntry calld me to it. What I shall yet doe, +With all the industrie and strength I have lent me +And grace of heaven to guid, so it but satisfie +The expectation of the State commaunds me +And in my Cuntries eye appeere but lovely, +I shall sitt downe, though old and bruizd yet happie; +Nor can the bitter and bold tounge of mallice, +That never yet spoke well of faire deservings, +With all hir course aspersions floong upon me +Make me forsake my dutie, touch or shake me +Or gaine so much upon me as an anger, +Whilst here I hold me loyall. Yet believe, Gentlemen, +Theis wrongs are neither few nor slight, nor followed +By liberall tongues provokd by want or wine, +For such were to be smild at and so slighted, +But by those men, and shot so neer mine honour +I feare my person too; but, so the State suffer not, +I am as easie to forget. + +_Will_. Too easie; +And that feeds up their mallice to a Monster. +You are the arme oth' war, the Soldiers sperit; +The other but dead stories, you the dooer. + +_Col_. It stands not with the honour you have won, Sir, +Still built upon and betterd. + +_Or_. No more, good Collonell. + +_Col_. The love the Soldier beares you to give way thus! +To have your actions consturd, scornd and scoffd at +By such malignant soules! you are yourself, Sir, +And master of more mindes that love and honour ye.[152] + +_Will_. Yf you would see it; but take through the mallice +The evill intended now, now bent upon ye. + +_Or_. I pray ye, no more; as you love me, no more. +Stupid I never was nor so secure yet +To lead my patience to mine owne betraying: +I shall find time and riper cause.-- [_Guard at dore_. + Now, frends, +Are my Lords the States set yet. + +1 _Gu_. An houre agoe, Sir. + +_Or_. Beshrew ye, Gentlemen, you have made me tardy: +Open the dore, + +1 _Gu_. I beseech your Grace to pardon me.[153] + +_Or_. Do'st thou know who I am? + +1 _Gu_. Yes, Sir, and honour you. + +_Or_. Why do'st thou keep the dore fast then? + +_Will_. Thou fellow, +Thou sawcy fellow, and you that stand by gaping! +Is the Prince of no more value, no more respect +Then like a Page? + +2 _Gu_. We beseech your Excellencies +To pardon us; our duties are not wanting, +Nor dare we entertaine a thought to crosse ye: +We are placed here on Commaund. + +_Or_. To keepe me out? +Have I lost my place in Councell? are my services +Growne to so poore regards, my worth so bankrupt? +Or am I tainted with dishonest actions, +That I am held unfitt my Cuntries busines? +Who placd ye here? + +1 _Gu_. The body of the Councell; +And we beseech your Grace make it not our syn: +They gave us strict commaund to stop your passage. + +_Or_. 'Twas frendly don and like my noble masters. + +_Will_. Deny you place? make good the dore against ye? +This is unsufferable, most unsufferable. + +_Or_. Now I begin to feele those doubts; I feare still-- + +_Col_. So far to dare provoke ye! 'tis too monstrous; +And you forget your self, your birth, your honour, +The name of Soldier if you suffer this, +Suffer from these, these things, these--pox upon't!-- +These molds of men made noble by your services, +Your daylie sweatts. + +1 _Cap_. It must not be endured thus, +The wrong extends to us, we feele it severally. + +2 _Cap_. Your sweet humillitie has made 'em scorne ye +And us, and all the world that serve their uses; +And stick themselves up teachers, masters, princes, +Allmost new gods too, founders of new faithes. +--Weell force your way. + +_Col_. Let's see then who dare stop ye. + +_Gu_. Not we, I am sure. + +_Col_. Let's see who dare denie ye +Your place and right of councell. + +_Or_. Stay, I commaund ye; +He that puts forward first to this wild action +Has lost my love and is becom mine Enemy, +My mortall enemie. Put up your weapons, +You draw 'em against order, duty, faith; +And let me die ere render such examples. +The men you make so meane, so slight account of, +And in your angers prise, not in your honours, +Are Princes, powerfull Princes, mightie Princes; +That daylie feed more men of your great fashion +And noble ranck, pay and maintaine their fortunes, +Then any monarch _Europe_ has: and for this bountie, +If ye consider truly, Gentlemen, +And honestly, with thankfull harts remember, +You are to pay them back againe your service: +They are your masters, your best masters, noblest, +Those that protect your states, hold up your fortunes; +And for this good you are to sacrifize +Your thancks and duties, not your threats and angers. +I and all Soldiers els that strike with their armes, +And draw from them the meanes of life and honour, +Are doble tyde in faith to observe their pleasures. + +_Col_. A Prince of rare humanitie and temper. +Sir, as you teach us armes, you man our minds, too, +With civill precepts, making us true Soldiers, +Then worthie to receive a trust from others +When we stand masters of our owne discretions. + + _Enter Barnavelt, Modesbargen, Leidenberch, Grotius + Bredero, Vandort & Hogerbeets_. + +_Will_. Your good and great example tyes us all, Sir. + +_Cap_. The Councell's broken up. + +_Or_. My noble Lords, +Let it not seeme displeasing to your wisdomes, +I humbly ask in what I have offended, +Or how suspected stand, or with what cryme blotted, +That this day from your fellowship, your councell, +My Cuntries care and where I owe most service, +Like a man perishd in his worth I am exilde. + +_Bar_. Your Grace must know we cannot wait attendaunce, +Which happely you looke for. + +_Or_. Wayt, my lords! + +_Bar_. Nor what we shall designe for the States comfort +Stay your deliberate crosses. We know you are able, +And every way a wise Prince fitt for counsell; +But I must tell ye, Sir, and tell ye truly, +The Soldier has so blowne ye up, so swelld ye +And those few services you call your owne, +That now our commendations are too light gales, +Too slacke and emptie windes, to move your worthes; +And trumpets of your owne tongue and the Soldiers +Now onely fill your sailes. + +_Bre_. Be not so bitter. + +_Bar_. We mix with quiet speritts, staid and temperate, +And those that levell at not great but good ends +Dare hold us their Companions, not their Servants, +And in that ranck be ready to supply us. +Your Grace is growne too haughtie. + +_Leid_. Might it please you +But thinck, Sir, of our honest services +(I dare not terme them equall) and but waigh well, +In which I know your Grace a perfect master, +Your judgment excellent, and then but tell us +And truly (which I know your goodnes will doe) +Why should we seeme so poore, so undertrodden, +And though not trusted with the State and Councell, +Why so unable vallued. Pardon, great Sir, +If those complaine who feele the waight of envy, +If such poore trod on wormes make show to turne againe. +Nor is it we that feele, I hope, nor you, Sir, +That gives the cullour of this difference: +Rumour has many tongues but few speak truth: +We feele not onely,--if we did 'twere happie-- +Our Cuntry, Sir, our Cuntrie beares the blow too; +But you were ever noble. + +_Or_. Good my Lords, +Let it be free your Servant, chargd in mallice, +If not fling of his crymes, at least excuse 'em +To you my great correcter. Would to heaven, Sir, +That syn of pride and insolence you speake of, +That pufft up greatnes blowne from others follyes +Were not too neere akin to your great Lordship +And lay not in your bosom, your most deere one. +You taint me, Sir, with syns concerne my manners,-- +If I have such Ile studdy to correct 'em; +But, should I taint you, I should charge ye deeper: +The cure of those would make ye shrinck and shake, too, +--Shake of your head. + +_Bar_. You are too weak ith' hams, Sir. + +_Or_. Who raisd these new religious forces, Sir, +And by what warrant? what assignement had ye +From the States generall? who blew new fires? +Even fires of fowle rebellion, I must tell ye; +The bellowes to it, Religion. You were lov'd yet +But for your ends,--through all the Townes, the Garrisons, +To fright the union of the State, to shake it. +What syns are theis? You may smile with much comfort, +And they that see ye and not looke closely to ye +May crye too er't be long. + +_Bar_. Your Grace has leave, Sir, +And tis right good it be soe.--Follow me home, +And there Ile give ye new directions +How to proceed, and sodainely. + +_Leid_. | We are yours, Sir. +_Mod_. | + [_Exeunt Bar., Leid., Mod_. + +_Or_. My lords, to what a monster this man's grown +You may (if not abusd with dull securitie) +See plaine as day. + +_Bre_. We doe not like his carriage. + +_Van_. He do's all, speakes all, all disposes. + +_Or_. Spoiles all. +He that dare live to see him work his ends out +Uncrossd and unprevented, that wretched man +Dare live to see his Cuntry shrinck before him. +Consider my best lords, my noblest masters, +How most, most fitt, how just and necessary +A sodaine and a strong prevention. + +_Bre_. We all conceave your Grace and all look through him +And find him what we feare not yet but grieve at. +You shall have new Commission from us all +To take in all those Townes he has thrust his men in: +When you have that, proceed as likes your Excellence. + +_Or_. Your lordships true friend and most obedient Servant. + +_Van_. Come to the present busines then. + +_Or_. We attend you. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + + +_Actus Secundus_. + +SCAENA PRIMA. + + + _Enter Barnavelt, Leidenberch, Modesbargen_. + +_Bar_. I have with danger venturd thus far to you +That you might know by me our plot's discoverd. +But let not that discourage you: though _Van Dort_ +And _Bredero_, with others, have assented +To force this Towne, stand you still on your Guard, +And on my reputation rest assured +With violence they never dare attempt you; +For that would give the world to understand +Th'united Provinces, that by their concord +So long have held out 'gainst th'opposition +Of all _Spaines_ Governours, their plotts and armyes, +Make way to their most certaine ruyn by +A Civill warre. + +_Leid_. This cannot be denide. + +_Bar_. And so at any time we may make our peace, +Returning to our first obedience +Upon what termes we please. + +_Mod_. That is not certaine; +For, should we tempt them once to bring their forces +Against the Towne and find we give it up +For want of strength to keepe it, the Conditions +To which we must subscribe are in their will +And not our choice or pleasure. + +_Bar_. You are governd +More by your feare then reason. + +_Mod_. May it prove soe: +That way I would be guiltie. + +_Bar_. How appeere +The new raisd Companies? + +_Leid_. They stand full and faithfull; +And for the Burgers, they are well affected +To our designes. The _Arminians_ play their parts too, +And thunder in their meetings hell and dampnation +To such as hold against us. + +_Bar_. 'Tis well orderd: +But have you tride by any meanes (it skills not +How much you promise) to wyn the old Soldiers +(The _English_ Companies, in chief, I ayme at) +To stand firme for us? + +_Leid_. We have to that purpose +Imploid _Rock-Giles_, with some choice Burgers els +That are most popular to the Officers +That doe commaund here in the Collonells absence. +We expect them every mynitt. Yf your Lordship +(For 'tis not fitt, I think, you should be seene) +Will please to stand aside (yet you shalbe +Within the hearing of our Conference) +You shall perceive we will imploy all arts +To make them ours. + +_Mod_. They are come. + +_Bar_. Be earnest with them. + + _Enter Rock-Giles, 2 Burgers, Captaines, Leuitenant_. + +_R: Giles_. With much adoe I have brought 'em: the prowde Shellains[154] +Are paid too well, and that makes them forget +We are their Masters. + +1 _Burg_. But when we tooke them on, +Famishd allmost for want of entertainement, +Then they cryde out they would do any thing +We would commaund them. + +1 _Cap_. And so we say still, +Provided it be honest. + +_Giles_. Is it fitt +That mercenary Soldiers, that for pay +Give up their liberties and are sworne t'expose +Their lyves and fortunes to all dangers, should +Capitulate with their Lords? + +1 _Burg_. Prescribing when +They are pleasd to be commaunded and for what. + +_Giles_. Answeare to this. + +_Leuit_. You know our resolutions, +And therefore, Captaine, speak for all. + +1 _Cap_. I will, +And doe it boldly: We were entertaind +To serve the generall States and not one Province; +To fight as often as the Prince of _Orange_ +Shall lead us forth, and not to stand against him; +To guard this Cuntrie, not to ruyn it; +To beat of foreigne Enemies, not to cherish +Domestique factions. And where you upbraid us +With the poore means we have to feed, not cloath us, +Forgetting at how deere a rate we buy +The triffles we have from you, thus I answeare:-- +Noe Cuntrie ere made a defensive war +And gaind by it but you. What privat Gentleman +That onely trailes a pike, that comes from _England_ +Or _Fraunce_, but brings gold with him which he leaves here +And so enriches you? Where such as serve +The _Polander, Bohemian, Dane_, or _Turck_, +Though they come almost naked to their Collours, +Besides their pay (which they contempne) the spoiles +Of armyes overthrowne, of Citties sackd, +Depopulations of wealthie Cuntries, +If he survive the uncertaine chaunce of war, +Returne him home to end his age in plenty +Of wealth and honours. + +_Bar_. This is shrewdly urgd. + +1 _Cap_. Where we, poore wretches, covetous of fame onely, +Come hether but as to a Schoole of war +To learne to struggle against cold and hunger, +And with unwearied steps to overcome +A tedious march when the hot Lyons breath +Burnes up the feilds; the glory that we ayme at +Being our obedience to such as doe +Commaund in cheif; to keepe our rancks, to fly +More then the death all mutenies and rebellions. +And would you then, whose wisdomes should correct +Such follies in us, rob us of that litle, +That litle honour that rewards our service, +To bring our necks to the Hangmans Sword or Halter, +Or (should we scape) to brand our foreheads with +The name of Rebells? + +_Giles_. I am put to a non plus:-- +Speake mine Here Secretarie. + +_Leid_. I have heard +So much deliverd by you and so well, +Your actions, too, at all parts answearing +What you have spoken, that I must acknowledge +We all stand far indebted to your service: +And therefore, as unto the worthiest, +The faithfullest and strongest that protect +Us and our Cuntries, we now seek to you, +And would not but such men should be remembred +As principall assistants in the Care +Of a disease which now the State lyes sick of. +I know you love the valiant Prince, and yet +You must graunt him a Servant to the States +As you are, Gentlemen, and therefore will not +Defend that in him which you would not cherish +In cold blood in your selves; for should he be +Disloyall-- + +_Leuit_. He disloyall! 'tis a language +I will not heare. + +2 _Cap_. Such a suspition of him +Is one that wore a Sword deserv'd the lye. + +1 _Cap_. We know your oild tongue; and your rethorique +Will hardly work on us that are acquainted +With what faire language your ill purposes +Are ever cloathd, nor ever wilbe won +To undervalue him whose least fam'd service +Scornes to be put in ballance with the best +Of all your Counsailes; and for his faith, O heaven! +It do's as far transcend yours in your praires +As light do's darkness. + +_Leid_. I perceive 'tis true +That such as flatter Servants make them prowd. +Wee'll use a rougher way, and here commaund you +To leave the Towne, and sodainely, if you wish not +To be forced hence. + +1 _Cap_. Your new raisd Companies +Of such as never saw the Enemie +Can hardly make that good: we were placed here +By the allowaunce of the generall States +And of the Prince to keep it to their use. + +_Leuit_. And we will doe it. + +1 _Cap_. And while there is Lead +Upon a house, or any Soldier master +But of a doyt: when that is gon, expect +That we will make you sport, or leave our lives +To witness we were faithfull.--Come, Lieutenant, +Let us draw up the Companies; and then +Charge on us when you please. + [_Exeunt_. + +_Mod_. This I foresaw. + +_Bar_. Oh, I am lost with anger! are we falne +So lowe from what we were, that we dare heare +This from our Servants and not punish it? +Where is the terrour of our names, our powre +That _Spaine_ with feare hath felt in both his _Indies_? +We are lost for ever, and from freemen growne +Slaves so contemptible as no worthie Prince, +That would have men, not sluggish Beasts, his Servants, +Would ere vouchsafe the owning. Now, my frends, +I call not on your furtherance to preserve +The lustre of my actions; let me with them +Be nere remembred, so this government +Your wives, your lives and liberties be safe: +And therefore, as you would be what you are, +Freemen and masters of what yet is yours, +Rise up against this Tirant, and defend +With rigour what too gentle lenitie +Hath almost lost. + +_Leid_. Ile to the new raisd Soldiers +And make them firme. + +_Giles_. Ile muster up the Burgers +And make them stand upon their guard. + +_Mod_. For me +Ile not be wanting. + +_Bar_. Ile back to the _Hage_ +And something there Ile doe that shall divert +The torrent that swells towards us, or sinck in it; +And let this Prince of _Orange_ seat him sure, +Or he shall fall when he is most secure. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +SCAENA 2. + + + _Enter Holderus, Dutch-woemen and an English Gentlew_. + +1 _D. W_. Here come the Sisters: that's an _English_ Gentlewoman, +Let's pray for hir Conversion. + +2 _D. W_. You are wellcom, Lady, +And your comming over hether is most happy; +For here you may behold the generall freedom +We live and traffique in, the ioy of woemen. +No emperious _Spanish_ eye governes our actions, +Nor _Italian_ jealouzie locks up our meetings: +We are ourselves our owne disposers, masters; +And those that you call husbands are our Servants. + +3 _D. W_. Your owne Cuntry breedes ye hansom, maintaines ye brave, +But with a stubborne hand the husbands awe ye: +You speake but what they please, looke where they point ye, +And though ye have some libertie 'tis lymitted. + +4 _D. W_. Which cursse you must shake of. To live is nothing; +To live admird and lookd at,--poore deservings +But to live soe, so free you may commaund, Lady, +Compell, and there raigne Soveraigne. + +1 _D. W_. Do you thinck there's any thing +Our husbands labour for, and not for our ends? +Are we shut out of Counsailes, privacies, +And onely lymitted our household busines? +No, certaine, Lady; we pertake with all, +Or our good men pertake no rest. Why this man +Works theis or theis waies, with or against the State, +We know and give allowaunces. + +_2 D. W_. Why such a Gentleman, +Thus hansom and thus yong, commaunds such a quarter; +Where theis faire Ladies lye; why the _Grave's_ angry +And Mounseiur _Barnavelt_ now discontent,-- +Do you thinck it's fitt we should be ignorant? + +_2 D. W_. Or why there's sprung up now a new devotion? +Good Gentlewoman, no. Do you see this fellow? +He is a Scholler and a parlous Scholler, +Or whether he be a Scholler or no 'tis not a doy't matter: +He's a fine talker and a zealous talker; +We can make him thinck what we list, say what we list, +Print what we list and whom we list abuse in't. + +_Eng.-gentw_. And a Teacher do you say? + +_2 D. W_. A singuler teacher, +For so we hold such here. + +_Eng.-gentw_. Doe they use no modestie +Upon my life, some of theis new _Arminians_, +Theis hissing tosts! + +_Hold_. An ignorant strange woman, +Whose faith is onely tride by a Coach and foure horses. + +_3 D. W_. Come, you must be as we are and the rest of your Countrywomen; +You doe not know the sweet on't. + +_Eng.-gentw_. Indeed, nor will not; +Our Cuntry brings us up to faire Obedience +To know our husbands for our Governours, +So to obey and serve 'em: two heads make monsters; +Nor Dare we thinck of what is don above us, +Nor talk of _Graves_. + +_Hold_. The _Grave_ shall smart for 't shortly; +Goe you and tell him soe, gooddy _English woman_: +You have long tayles and long tongues, but we shall clip 'em. + +_Enter Vandermitten_.[155] + +_I D. W_. How now? what haste? + +_Vand_. The Prince is drawing up to us +And has disarmd all the strong Townes about us +Of our new Soldiers; the _English_ now stand only +And the old Companies. + +_Eng.-gentw_. Now your wisdomes, Ladies, +Your learning also, Sir, your learned prating-- +You that dare prick your eares up at great Princes +And doble charge your tongue with new opinions,-- +What can you doe? or can theis holly woemen +That you have arm'd against obedience +And made contempners of the fooles their husbands, +Examiners of State,--can they doe any thing? +Can they defy the Prince? + +_Hold_. They shall defie him, +And to his face: why doe not ye raise the Burgers +And draw up the new Companies? + + _Enter Leidenberge_?[156] + +_Leid_. Away, good women! +This is no sport for you: goe, cheere your husbands +And bid 'em stand now bravely for their liberties. +_Arnam_ and _Roterdam_ and all about us +Have yeilded him obedience; all the new Companies +Purgd and disarmd. Goe you; talke to the _Arminians_, +And raise their harts. Good Ladies, no more Councells: +This is no time to puppet in. + +1 _D. W_. We are gon, Sir, + +_2 D. W_. And will so coniure up our lazie husbands. + +_Eng.-gentw_. And coniure wisely, too; the devill will faile else. + [_Exeunt Women_. + +_Leid_. What's she? + +_Vand_. An _English_ woman. + +_Leid_. Would they were all shipt well +To th' other part oth' world. Theis stubborne _English_ +We onely feare. + +_Vand_. We are strong enough to curb 'em. + +_Leid_. But we have turnop hearts. + + _Enter a Messenger_. + +Now what's the next newes? + +_Mess_.[157] The Prince is at the Barriers, and desires his entraunce + +_Leid_. He must not enter:--what Company is with him? + +_Mess_. But few, and those unarmd too: about some twentie. + +_Leid_. And what behind? + +_Mess_. We can discover none. + +_Leid_. Let's goe and view: Brothers, be strong and valiant; +We have lost the Towne els and our freedoms with it. + [_Exeunt_. + + + + +SCAENA 3. + + _Enter 1 Captaine[158] and Soldiers_. + +_Sold_. They charge us not to let him in. + +1 _Cap_. We will doe it; +He has our faithes.--What strengthe's upon the Guard? + +_Sold_. Two hundred _English_. + +1 _Cap_. Goe, and give this comaund then: +That if any Burgers or _Arminian_ Soldiers +Offer to come upon the Guard, or let in or out +Any without our knowledge, presently +To bend their strength upon 'em. + +_Sold_. It shalbe don. [_Exit_. + +1 _Cap_. Do you disperse to the old Companies, +Bid 'em be ready; tell 'em now is the time, +And charge 'em keepe a strong eye ore the Burgers. +Ile up to'th Guard. + +_Sold_. Wee'le doe it seriously. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +SCAENA 4. + + + _Enter Prince of Orange, William, + Captaine,[159] Leiutenant, &c_. + +_Or_. None of our frends upon the Portt? Is this the welcom +Of such a Towne, so bound in preservation +To us and ours? + +2 _Cap_. The Prince is sadly angry. + +_Leiut_. Can ye blame him, Captaine, when such a den of dog whelps +Are fosterd here against him? You will rouse anon: +There are old Companies sure, honest and faithfull, +That are not poysond with this ranck infection. +Now they appeare, Sir. + + _Enter Captaine[160] on the walls_. + +1 _Cap_. Will your Grace please to enter? + +_Or_. And thanck ye too. + +1 _Cap_. The Port is open for ye. + +_Or_. You see my number. + +1 _Cap_. But I hope 'tis more, Sir. + +_Or_. Theis must in first; 'Twill breed a good securitie. + +1 _Cap_. We stand all ready for your Grace. + +_Or_. We thanck ye. + +1 _Cap_. What Companies come on, Sir. + +_Or_. Three Troope of horse, +That will be with ye presently: keepe strong the Port. + +1 _Cap_. Enter when please your Grace; we shall stand sure, Sir. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +SCAENA 5. + + + _Enter Leidenberge, Vandermitten,[161] Rock Giles_. + +_Leid_. Is he come in, do you say? + +_Vand_. He is, but followed +So slenderly and poore. + +_Leid_. We are undon then; +He knowes too well what ground he ventures on. +Where are the _Arminian_ Soldiers? + +_R. Giles_. They stand ith' market place. + +_Leid_. Are they well armd? + +_R. Giles_. Ready to entertaine him. + +_Leid_. Who commaunds the Port? + +_Vand_. The _English_. + +_Leid_. Ten towsand devills! +Odd's sacrament! a meere trick to betray us. + +_Vand_. We can discover none behind. + +_Leid_. A trick: +Those _English_ are the men borne to undooe us. + + _Enter Messenger_.[162] + +_Mess_. Arme, arme, and now stand to your ancient freedoms! +Three troope of horse, ten Companies of foote +Are enterd now the Port. + +_Leid_. I told ye, Gentlemen. + +_Mess_. The _English_ make a stand upon the new Companies, +Ready to charge 'em if they stirr. + +_Leid_. Oh mischief! +All our designes are crackt, layed open, ruynd: +Let's looke if any cure remaine. O devill! + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +SCAENA 6. + + + _Enter Duch-woemen and Burgers_. + +_Duch-W_. The Prince, the Prince, the Prince! O our husbands. + +_Burg_. Goe pray, goe pray, goe pray: We shalbe hangd all. + +_Duch-W_. I would it were no worse: + + _Enter Eng.-gentw_. + +_Eng.-gentw_. Now where's your valours, +You that would eat the Prince? + +_Duch-W_. Sweet _English_ Gentlewoman. + +_Eng.-gentw_. Fy, doe not run! for shame! body a me, +How their feare outstincks their garlick! litle Sir _Gregory_, + + _Enter Holderus_.[163] + +Art thou afraid, too? out with thy two edgd tongue +And lay about thee! + +_Hold_. Out o' my way, good woeman, +Out o' my way: I shalbe whipt, and hangd too. + +_Eng.-gentw_. Theis fellowes have strong faithes and notable valours: +Ile walk about and see this sport. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +SCAENA 7. + + + _Enter Orange, Leidenberge, Burgers, Captaines, + Soldiers, and Arminians_. + +_Or_. Now, Mounseuir _Leidenberge_ you may se openly +The issues of your desperate undertakings, +And your good helpes, myne Heeires; now you must feele too, +And to your greifes, what the deserts of those are +That boldly dare attempt their Cuntries ruyn +And who we serve, how faithfully and honestly +You must and shall confes too: not to blind ends +Hood-winckt with base ambition, such as yours are, +But to the generall good.--Let[164] theis new Companies +March by us through the Market, so to the Guard house, +And there disarme;--wee'll teach ye true obedience;-- +Then let 'em quitt the Towne, hansom swag fellowes +And fitt for fowle play. + +_Leiut_. Theis are but heavy marches. + +_Or_. They wilbe lighter straight, when they are unfurnishd +You put your trust in theis; you have tall defences,-- +Treason maintaind with heresie, fitt weapons! +--So now disarme the Towne: wee'll plant new Governours! + +_Leid_. Will your Grace be pleasd to heare? + +_Or_. Yes, at the _Hage_, Sir, +Till when bethinck you of your acts and answeares, +For there before the generall State--Where's _Modesbargen_? + +_Cap_. He left the Towne two daies agoe. + +_Or_. A guilty feare, +But we shall fright him worsse. Good order take +For the Towne, and what fitt Garrison to leave in't. +We are homeward bound, where we shall make you wellcom, +You have instructed us in what free fashion. +Come, Gentlemen, let's now goe take our rest: +Prowd confidence is but a foole at best. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + + +_Actus Tercius_. + +SCAENA PRIMA. + + + _Enter Bredero, Vandort_.[165] + +_Bre_. Myne Heire Vandort, what thinck ye of the Prince now? + +_Vandort_. Like a true noble Gentlemen he has borne himself +And a faire fortunate Soldier: I hold the State, Sir, +Most happie in his care, and this torne Cuntry, +Whose wounds smart yet, most bound to his deliveraunce. + +_Bre_. 'Tis certaine his proceedings in this busines, +As in all els, have byn most wise and constant +And waited on with full wingd Expedition: +How many Townes armd with theis new Pretenders, +Stird up and steeld by founders of new doctrines, +The collour to their Cause, hath he (and sodainely) +Disarmd againe and setled in obedience, +And without bloodshed, Lords, without the Sword +And those Calamities that shake a kingdom: +So gently and without noyse he has performd this +As if he had don it in a dreame. + +_Vand_. Most certaine, +He has run through a busines will much add to him +And set his vertues of with greater Lustre: +But that a man so wise as Mounseiur _Barnavelt_, +So trusted, so rewarded for his Service, +And one that built the ladder to his honour +Of open, honest actions, strong and straight still, +Should now be doubted! + +_Bred_. I know not nor I wish it not, +But if he have a fowle hart't has byn hid long, +And cunningly that poyson has byn carried. + +_Vand_. But why a father to theis new professions? +Why should he strengthen those opinions +That all true learning much laments and greives at +And sincks the soules sweet union into ruyn? +Why theis, my lords? and why in every Garrison, +Unles he had an end that shot at evill, +Should he so strongly plant theis fire-brands +And through his powre add daylie to their nombers? + +_Bred_. Most sure he is suspected, strongly suspected +But that a man of his great trust and busines +Should sinck or suffer under doubts or whispers +Or loose his honour by an others envy, +Is not faire play nor honest. The Prince of _Orange_, +Most thinck, affects him not, nor he the Prince. +That either of their angry wills should prove +A lawful act to ruyn one another, +And not a medium of more open Justice, +More equall and more honorable, step in, +Man had no powre to stand nor fall with honour. +If he be falce, honest and upright proofes +Will ripen the Imposture. + + _Enter Barnavelt and his Son_. + +[1 _Lord_.[166] Here he comes, sir.] + +_Vand_. Methincks he beares not in his Countenaunce +The fulnes of that grave and constant sperit, +Nor in his eye appeeres that heat and quicknes +He was wont to move withall.--Salute, and counsell: +Let's leave him to his thoughts. + +_Son_. They mind ye not: +Now, as I have a soule, they looke not on ye. + +_Bar_. My noble Lords, what is't appeeres upon me +So ougly strange you start and fly my Companie? +What plague sore have ye spide, what taynt in honour, +What ill howre in my life so cleere deserving +That rancks in this below your fellowships? +For which of all my cares, of all my watches, +My services (too many and too mightie +To find rewards) am I thus recompenced, +Not lookd on, not saluted, left forgotten +Like one that came to petition to your honours,-- +Over the shoulder sleighted? + +_Bred_. Mounseiur _Barnavelt_, +I am sorry that a man of your great wisdom +And those rare parts that make ye lov'd and honourd, +In every Princes Court highly esteemd of, +Should loose so much in point of good and vertue +Now in the time you ought to fix your faith fast, +The creadit of your age, carelessly loose it,-- +I dare not say, ambitiously--that your best frends, +And those that ever thought on your example, +Dare not with comon safetie now salute ye. + +_Bar_. I loose in point of honour! My frends feare me! +My age suspected too! now as ye are iust men +Unknit this riddle. + +1 _Lord_. You are doubted, strongly doubted. + +_Bar_. O the devill. + +2 _Lord_. Your loialtie suspected. + +_Bar_. Who dare doe this? + +_Bred_. We wish all well; and you that know how dangerous +In men of lesser mark theis foule attempts are +And often have bewaild 'em in the meanest, +I make no doubt will meet your owne fault sodainely +And chide yourself; grow faire againe and flourish +In the same full esteeme ye held and favour. + +_Bar_. And must I heare this sett downe for all my service? +Is this the glorious mark of my deservings? +Taynted and torne in honour must I perish, +And must theis silver curles, ô you unthanckfull, +Theis emblemes of my frostie cares and travells +For you and for the State, fall with disgraces? +Goe, fall before your new Prince! worship him, +Fill all your throates with flattery, cry before him +'Tis he, and onely he, has truly serv'd ye! +Forget me and the peace I have wrought your Cuntry; +Bury my memory, raze out my name, +My forty yeares endeavoures write in dust +That your great Prince may blow 'em into nothing; +And on my Monument (you most forgetfull) +Fling all your scornes, erect an yroon-toothed envy +That she may gnaw the pious stones that hides me. + +_Vand_. Ye are too much mov'd, and now too late ye find, Sir, +How naked and unsafe it is for a long Gowne +To buckle with the violence of an Army. +The Emperour _Traian_ challenging a yong man +And a swift runner to try his speed against him, +The Gentleman made answeare sodainely +It was not safe nor fitt to hold contention +With any man commaunded thirtie legions. +You know the Prince and know his noble nature, +I thinck you know his powre, too: of all your wisdomes +This will not show the least nor prove the meanest +In good mens eyes, I thinck, in all that know ye, +To seeke his love: gentle and faire demeanours +Wyn more then blowes and soften stubborne angers. +Let me perswade ye. + +_Bar_. When I am a Sycophant +And a base gleaner from an others favour, +As all you are that halt upon his crutches. +Shame take that smoothnes and that sleeke subjection! +I am myself, as great in good as he is, +As much a master of my Cuntries fortunes, +And one to whom (since I am forcd to speak it, +Since mine owne tongue must be my Advocate) +This blinded State that plaies at boa-peep with us, +This wanton State that's weary of hir lovers +And cryes out "Give me younger still and fresher!" +Is bound and so far bound: I found hir naked, +Floung out a dores and starvd, no frends to pitty hir, +The marks of all her miseries upon hir, +An orphan State that no eye smild upon: +And then how carefully I undertooke hir, +How tenderly and lovingly I noursd hir! +But now she is fatt and faire againe and I foold, +A new love in hir armes, my doatings scornd at. +And I must sue to him! be witnes, heaven, +If this poore life were forfeyt to his mercy, +At such a rate I hold a scornd subiection +I would not give a penney to redeeme it. +I have liv'd ever free, onely depended +Upon the honestie of my faire Actions, +Nor am I now to studdy how to die soe. + +_Bred_. Take better thoughts. + +_Bar_. They are my first and last, +The legacie I leave my friends behind me. +I never knew to flatter, to kneele basely +And beg from him a smile owes me an honour. +Ye are wreatches, poore starv'd wreatches fedd on crumbs +That he flings to ye: from your owne aboundaunce +Wreatched and slavish people ye are becom +That feele the griping yoak and yet bow to it. +What is this man, this Prince, this God ye make now, +But what our hands have molded, wrought to fashion, +And by our constant labours given a life to? +And must we fall before him now, adoare him, +Blow all we can to fill his sailes with greatnes? +Worship the Image we set up ourselves? +Put fate into his hand? into his will +Our lives and fortunes? howle and crye to our owne clay +"Be mercifull, ô Prince?" ô, pittied people! +Base, base, poore patch men! You dare not heare this; +You have sold your eares to slavery; begon and flatter. +When ere your politick Prince putts his hooke into my nose +Here must he put his Sword too. + +_Bred_. We lament ye. + + [_Exeunt_. + + _Enter the Son_. + +_Son_. We are undon, Sir. + +_Bar_. Why? + +_Son_. For certaine perishd. +_Utrecht_ is taken in, _Modesbargen_ fled, +And _Leidenberge_ a Servant to their pleasures,-- +A prisoner, Sir. + +_Bar_. Ha! + +_Son_. 'Tis too true. + +_Bar_. A prisoner? + +_Son_. And, some say, has byn tortured, reveald much, +Even all he knowes. No letters are against ye, +For those he burnt; but they have so much foold him +That his owne tongue-- + +_Bar_. He cannot be so boyish. + +_Son_. My goverment of _Barghen_ is disposd of; +Their anger now against us all profest, +And in your ruyn all must fall. + +_Bar_. A prisoner! +_Modesbargen_ fledd! I am glad he is scapt their fingers. +Now if the devill had but this _Leidenberge_ +I were safe enough. What a dull foole was I, +A stupid foole, to wrap up such a secreat +In a sheepes hart! ô I could teare my flesh now +And beat my leaden braines! + +_Son_. Faith, try the Prince, Sir; +You are at your last. + +_Bar_. Art thou my Son? thou lyest; +I never got a Parasite, a Coward. +I seeke the Prince or bend in base submission! +Ile seeke my grave first. Yf I needes must fall +And that the fatall howre is cast of _Barnavelt_, +Just like a strong demolishd Tower ile totter +And fright the neighbour Cuntries with my murmour. +My ruyns shall reach all: the valiant Soldier, +Whose eies are unacquainted but with anger, +Shall weep for me because I fedd and noursd him; +Princes shall mourne my losse, and this unthanckfull, +Forgetful Cuntry, when I sleepe in ashes, +Shall feele and then confes I was a father. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +SCAENA 2. + + + _Enter P. of Orange, William, Bredero, Vandort, + Lords, Collonells, Captaines_. + +_Bred_. Will your Excellence please to sitt? + + [_Table: Bell_. + +_Or_. I am prowd your Lordships +So willingly restore me to that place +From which the envy of the Advocate +Of late hath forcd me. And that you may know, +How ere his mallice live to me, all hatred +Is dead in me to him, I am a Suitour +He may be sent for; for, as _Barnavelt_ is +A member of this body politique, +I honour him, and will not scorne to yeild +A strict accompt of all my Actions to him; +And, though my Enemie, while he continues +A frend to his owne fame and loyall to[167] +The State, I love him and shall greive that he, +When he falls from it must deserve my pitty. + +_Vand_. This disposition in your Excellence +Do's well becom you, but would wrong our iudgements +To call one as a partner to these counsailes +That is suspected, and ev'n then when all +His dark designes and deepest purposes +Are to be sifted. + +_Bred_. It were most unfit, +And therefore we entreat your Highnes to[167] +Presse it no further. + +_Or_. My good lords, your pardon; +You are your owne disposers.--Gentlemen, +I shall a while entreat ye to forbeare +The troble that you put upon yourselves +In following me. I can need no defence here, +Being left among these whose grave counsailes ever +Have lookd out for my safetie. 'Tis your pleasure +And therefore I embrace it. + + [_Exeunt Collonells & Captaines_. + +_Vand_. Now, when you please, +Your Excellence may deliver what you have +Observ'd concerning the _Arminian_ faction, +What hopes and heads it had, for without question +It found more favorers, and great ones too, +Then yet we have discoverd. + +_Or_. My grave Lords, +That it hath byn my happines to take in, +And with so litle blood, so many Townes +That were falne of, is a large recompence +For all my travell; and I would advise +That (since[168] all now sing the sweet tunes of Concord, +No Sword unsheathd, the meanes to hurt cut off, +And all their stings pluckd out that would have used them +Against the publique peace) we should end here +And not with labour search for that which will +Afflict us when 'tis found. Something I know +That I could wish I nere had understood, +Which yet if I should speake, as the respect +And duty that I owe my Cuntry binds me, +It wilbe thought 'tis rather privat spleene +Then pious zeale. But that is not the hazard +Which I would shun: I rather feare the men +We must offend in this, being great, rich, wise, +Sided with strong frends, trusted with the guard +Of places most important, will bring forth +Rather new births of tumult, should they be +Calld to their Triall, then appease disorder +In their iust punishment; and in doing Justice +On three or foure that are delinquents, loose +So many thousand inocents that stand firme +And faithfull patriots. Let us leave them therefore +To the scourge of their owne consciences: perhaps +Th'assurance that they are yet undiscoverd, +Because not cyted to their answeare, will +So work with them hereafter to doe well +That we shall ioy we sought no farther in it. + +_Vand_. Such mild proceedings in a Goverment +New setled, whose maine strength had it's dependaunce +Upon the powre of some perticuler men, +Might be given way to, but in ours it were +Unsafe and scandalous: then the _Provinces_ +Have lost their liberties, Justice hir Sword, +And we prepared a way for our owne ruyn +When for respect or favour unto any, +Of what condition soever, we +Palliat seditions and forbeare to call +Treason by hir owne name. + +1 _Lord_. It must not be: +Such mercie to ourselves were tirranie. + +2 _Lord_. Nor are we to consider who they are +That have offended, but what's the offence +And how it should be punishd, to deter +Others by the example. + +_Bred_. Which we will doe; +And using that united powre which warrants +All we thinck fitt, we doe intreat your Highnes +(For willingly we would not say comaund you), +As you affect the safetie of the State +Or to preserve your owne deserved honours +And never-tainted loyaltie, to make knowne +All such as are suspected. + +_Or_. I obey you; +And though I cannot give up certaine proofes +To point out the delinquents, I will name +The men the generall voice proclaimes for guiltie. +_Modesbargens_ flight assures him one, nor is +The pentionary of _Roterdam_[169] _Grotius_, +Free from suspition: from _Utrecht_ I have brought +The Secretarie _Leidenberge_, who hath +Confest alredy something that will give us +Light to find out the rest. I would end here +And leave out _Barnavelt_. + +_Bred_. If he be guiltie +He's to be nam'd and punishd with the rest. + +_Vand_. Upon good evidence, but not till then +To be committed. + +_Will_. 'Twer expedient +That something should be practisd to bring in +_Modesbargen_. Out of him the truth of all +May be wroong out. + +_Bred_. The advice is sound and good. + +_Vand_. But with much difficultie to be performd; +For how to force him out of _Germanie_ +(Whether they say hee's fledd) without a war, +At least the breaking of that league we have +Concluded with them, I ingeniously +Confes my ignoraunce. + +_Or_. Since you approve it, +Leave that to me. + + _Enter Officer_[170] + +_Off_. My lord. + +_Or_. Call in the Captaine +You saw me speake with at the dore. + +_Off_. 'Tis don. [_Exit_. + +_Bred_. What does your Excellence ayme at? + +_Or_. Have but patience, +You shall know sodainely. + + _Enter Captaine_.[171] + +_Cap_. My good Angell keepe me +And turne it to the best.--What am I sent for? + +_Or_. You are wellcom, Captaine; nay 'tis for your good +That you are calld for. You are well acquainted +With all the parts of _Germanie_? + +_Cap_. I have livd there. +Most of my time. + +_Or_. But doe you know the Castle +Belonging to _Modesbargens_ Aunt or Cosen,-- +Which 'tis I know not? + +_Cap_. Very well, my Lord; +A pleasant Cuntry 'tis, and yeilds good hunting. + +_Bred_. And that's a sport _Modesbargen_ from his youth +Was much inclind to. + +_Or_. Wee'll make use of it. +It is of waight that you must undertake, +And does require your secrecie and care. + +_Cap_. In both I wilbe faithfull. + +_Or_. I beleeve you; +And, to confirme it, with all possible speed +I would have you to post thether: from the Borders +Make choice of any horsemen you thinck fitt, +And, when you come there, devide them into parties +And lodge neere to the Castle. Yf _Modesbargen_ +Come forth to hunt, or if at any time +You find the draw-bridge up, break in upon him +And willing or unwilling force him hether. +You shall have gold to furnish you, and this don +Propose your owne rewards, they shalbe graunted. + +_Cap_. Yf I be wanting let my head pay for it; +Ile instantly about it. [_Exit_. + +_Or_. Doe, and prosper. + +_Will_. What will you do with _Leidenberge_? + +_Bred_. Let him be +Kept safe a while: for _Barnavelt_, till we have +Some certaine proofes against him, I hold fitt +He have his libertie, but be suspended +From any place or voice in Court untill +His guilt or inocence appeere. + +_Vand_. I like it. + +_Lords_. We are all of your opinion. + +_Or_. Bring in _Leidenberch_. + + _Enter Leidenberch, Boy, Guard_. + +_Boy_. Doe all theis, father, wayt on you? + +_Leid_. Yes, Boy. + +_Boy_. Indeed I doe not like their Countenaunces; +They looke as if they meant you litle good. +Pray you, put them away. + +_Leid_. Alas, poore inocent, +It is for thee I suffer; for my self +I have set up my rest. + +_Or_. Now, Mounseiur _Leidenberch_, +We send not for you, though your fault deserve it, +To load you with reproofe, but to advise you +To make use of the way we have found out +To save your life and honour. You already, +In free confession of your fault, have made +A part of satisfaction; goe on in it, +And you shall find a faire discovery +Of youre fowle purposes and th'agents in 'em +Will wyn more favour from theyr lordships to you +Then any obstinate deniall can doe. + +_Leid_. All that I know I will deliver to you, +And beyond that your Excellence nor their Lordships +Will not, I hope, perswade me. + +_Vand_. In the meane time +You are a prisoner. + +_Boy_. Who? my father? + +_Bred_. Yes, Boy. + +_Boy_. Then I will be a prisoner, too. For heaven sake +Let me goe with him, for theis naughtie men +Will nere wayt on him well. I am usd to undresse him +When he's to goe to bed, and then read to him +Untill he be a sleepe, and then pray by him: +I will not leave him. + +_Bred_. Why, thou shalt not, Boy. +Goe with thy father. + +_Boy_. You are a good Lord, +Indeed I love you for't and will pray for you. +Come, father; now I must goe too, I care not. +While I am with you, you shall have no hurt, +Ile be your warrant. + +_Leid_. I have lost myself, +But something I shall doe. + + [_Exeunt Leid., Boy, Guard_. + +_Or_. 'Tis time to rise; +And, if your Lordshipps please, we will defer +Our other busines to an other sitting. + +_Vand_. In the meane time wee'll use all honest meanes +To sound the depth of this Confederacie, +In which Heaven's hand direct us and assist us. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +SCAENA 3. + + + _Enter 2 Captaines_.[172] + +1 _Cap_. This is a strange cutting time. + +2 _Cap_. Let 'em cutt deep enough, +They will doe no great cure els. I wonder strangely +They carry such a gentle hand on _Leidenberch_ +That any frends come to him. + +1 _Cap_. 'Has confest much, +Beleeve it, and so far they feare him not, +They would be els more circumspect. + +2 _Cap_. Pray ye, tell me, +Is there no further newes of those are fledd,-- +I meane those fellow Instruments? + +1 _Cap_. None as yet,-- +At least divulgd abroad. But certenly +The wise States are not idle, neither at this time +Do's it concerne their safeties. We shall heare shortly +More of theis monsters. + +2 _Cap_. Let's to dynner, Sir; +There we shall heare more newes. + +1 _Cap_. Ile beare ye companie. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +SCAENA 4. + + + _Enter Barnavelt & Provost_. + +_Bar_. And how doth he take his imprisonment, _Mr. Provost_? + +_Pro_. A litle discontent, and't please your Lordship, +And sad as men confind. + +_Bar_. He does not talke much? + +_Pro_. Litle or nothing, Sir. + +_Bar_. Nor wrighte? + +_Pro_. Not any thing, +Yet I have charge to give him those free uses. + +_Bar_. Doe you keep him close? + +_Pro_. Not so close, and't like your Lordship, +But you may see and speake with him. + +_Bar_. I thanck ye. + +_Pro_. Pray ye give me leave; Ile send him to your Honour. + [_Exit_. + +_Bar_. Now, _Barnavelt_, thou treadst the subtlest path, +The hardest and the thorniest, most concernes thee, +That ere thy carefull course of life run through: +The Master peece is now a foot, which if it speed +And take but that sure hold I ayme it at, +I make no doubt but once more, like a Comet, +To shine out faire and blaze prodigiously +Even to the ruyn of those men that hate me. + + _Enter Leidenberch_. + +--I am sorry for your fortune. + +_Leid_. 'Tis a sad one +And full of burthen, but I must learne to beare it. +How stands your State? + +_Bar_. Upon a ball of yce +That I can neither fix, nor fall with safetie. + +_Leid_. The heavie hand of heaven is now upon us +And we exposd, like bruizd and totterd vessells, +To merciles and cruell Seas to sinck us. + +_Bar_. Our Indiscreations are our evill fortunes, +And nothing sincks us but [our] want of providence. +O you delt coldly, Sir, and too too poorely, +Not like a man fitt to stem tides of dangers, +When you gave way to the Prince to enter _Utrecht_. +There was a blow, a full blow at our fortunes; +And that great indiscreation, that mayne blindnes, +In not providing such a constant Captaine, +One of our owne, to commaund the watch, but suffer +The haughtie _English_ to be masters of it,-- +This was not well nor fitting such a wisdom, +Not provident. + +_Leid_. I must confes my errour; +The beastly coldnes of the drowsy Burgers +Put me past all my aymes. + +_Bar_. O, they are sweet Jewells! +He that would put his confidence in Turnops[173] +And pickled Spratts--Come, yet resume your Courage, +Pluck up that leaden hart and looke upon mee; +_Modesbargen's_ fledd, and what we lockt in him +Too far of from their subtle keys to open, +Yf we stand constant now to one another +And in our soules be true. + +_Leid_. That comes too late, Sir, +Too late to be redeemd: as I am unfortunate +In all that's gone before, in this-- + +_Bar_. What? + +_Leid_. O, +In this, this last and greatest-- + +_Bar_. Speake. + +_Leid_. Most miserable. +I have confessd. Now let your eies shoot through me +And if there be a killing anger sinck me. + +_Bar_. Confessd! + +_Leid_. 'Tis done: this traitor tongue has don it, +This coward tongue. + +_Bar_. Confessd! + +_Leid_. He lookes me blind now. + +_Bar_. How I could cursee thee, foole, despise thee, spurne thee, +But thou art a thing not worthie of mine anger. +A frend! a dog: a whore had byn more secreat, +A common whore a closer Cabinet. +Confest! upon what safety, thou trembling aspyn, +Upon what hope? Is there ought left to buoy us +But our owne confidence? What frends now follow us, +That have the powre to strike of theis misfortunes, +But our owne constant harts? Where were my eies, +My understanding, when I tooke unto me +A fellow of thy falce hart for a frend? +Thy melting mind! foold with a few faire words +Suffer those secreats that concerne thy life, +In the Revealer not to be forgiven too, +To be pluckt from thy childes hart with a promise, +A nod, a smile! thyself and all thy fortunes +Through thy base feare made subject to example! +Nor will the shott stay there, but with full violence +Run through the rancke of frends, disperse and totter +The best and fairest hopes thy fame was built on. + +_Leid_. What have I done, how am I foold and cozend! +What shall redeeme me from this Ignoraunce! + +_Bar_. Not any thing thou aymst at, thou art lost: +A most unpittied way thou falst. + +_Leid_. Not one hope +To bring me of? nothing reservd to cleere me +From this cold Ignoraunce? + +_Bar_. But one way left, +But that thy base feare dares not let thee look on; +And that way will I take, though it seeme steepe +And every step stuck with affrights and horrours, +Yet on the end hangs smyling peace and honour, +And I will on. + +_Leid_. Propound and take[174] me with ye. + +_Bar_. Dye uncompelld, and mock their preparations, +Their envyes and their Justice. + +_Leid_. Dye? + +_Bar_. Dye willingly, +Dye sodainely and bravely: So will I: +Then let 'em sift our Actions from our ashes. +I looke to-morrow to be drawne before 'em; +And doe you thinck, I, that have satt a Judge +And drawne the thred of life to what length I pleasd, +Will now appeare a Prisoner in the same place? +Tarry for such an ebb? No, _Leidenberch_: +The narrowest dore of death I would work through first +Ere I turne Slave to stick their gawdy triumphes. + +_Leid_. Dye, did you say? dye wilfully? + +_Bar_. Dye any way, +Dye in a dreame: he that first gave us honours +Allowes us also safe waies to preserve 'em, +To scape the hands of infamy and tirrany. +We may be our owne Justice: he that loses +His Creadit (deere as life) through doubt or faintness +Is guilty of a doble death, his name dies; +He is onely pious that preserves his heire +His honour when he's dead. + +_Leid_. 'Tis no great paine. + +_Bar_. 'Tis nothing: +Imagination onely makes it monstrous. +When we are sick we endure a hundred fitts, +This is but one; a hundred waies of torture, +And cry and howle, weary of all about us, +Our frends, allyes, our children teadious to us, +Even our best health is but still sufferaunce. +One blow, one short peece of an howre dos this, +And this cures all; maintaines no more phisitians, +Restores our memories, and there's the great cure, +Where, if we stay the fatall Sword of Justice, +It moawes the man downe first, and next his fashion, +His living name, his creadit. + +_Leid_. Give me your hand, Sir; +You have put me in a path I will tread strongly; +Redeeme what I have lost, and that so nobely +The world shall yet confes at least I lovd ye. +How much I smile at now theis peoples mallice! +Dispise their subtle ends, laugh at their Justice! +And what a mightie Prince a constant man is! +How he can set his mind aloft, and looke at +The bussings and the busines of the spightfull, +And crosse when ere he please all their close weavings. +Farwell, my last farwell. + +_Bar_. A long farwell, Sir. + +_Leid_. Our bodies are the earthes, that's their dyvorsse: +But our immortall names shall twyn togeather. + +_Bar_. Thus tread we backward to our graves;--but faint not. + +_Leid_. Fooles onely fly their peace: thus I pursue it. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +SCAENA 5. + + + _Enter Grotius & Hogerbeets_. + +_Gro_. They have arrested him, _Hogerbeets_? + +_Hog_. Yes; +That you all know, _Grotius_, they did at _Utrich_, +But since they have with more severitie +And scorne of us proceeded. Monsieur _Barnavelt_ +Walkes with a thousand eies and guards upon him, +And has at best a painted libertie; +Th'Appollogie he wroat so poorely raild at, +(For answeard at no part a man can call it) +And all his life and Actions so detracted, +That he, as I am certenly informed, +Lookes every howre for worsse. + +_Gro_. Come, come, they dare not, +Or if they should I will not suffer it; +I that have without dread ever maintaind +The freedom I was borne to, against all +That ever have provoakd me, will not feare +What this old Grave or the new Prince of _Orange_ +Dare undertake beyond this, but will rise up +And if he lay his hands on _Barnavelt_, +His Court, our Guift, and where the generall States +Our equalls sit ile fry[175] about their eares +And quench it in their blood. What now I speake +Againe ile speake alowd; let who will tell it, +I never will fly from it. + +_Hog_. What you purpose +I will not fly from. + +_Gro_. Back you then to _Leyden_, +Ile keep at _Roterdam_: there if he fetch me +Ile nere repent whatever can fall on me. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +SCAENA 6. + + + _Enter Leidenberch & Boy_. + +_Boy_. Shall I help you to bed, Sir, + [_Taper, pen & inke: Table_. + +_Leid_. No, my Boy, not yet. + +_Boy_. 'Tis late and I grow sleepie. + +_Leid_. Goe to bed then, +For I must wryte, my Childe. + +_Boy_. I had rather watch, Sir, +If you sitt up, for I know you will wake me. + +_Leid_. Indeed I will not; goe, I have much to doe; +Prethee to bed; I will not waken thee. + +_Boy_. Pray, Sir, leave wryting till to morrow. + +_Leid_. Why, Boy? + +_Boy_. You slept but ill last night, and talkd in your sleep, too; +Tumbled and tooke no rest. + +_Leid_. I ever doe soe. +Good Boy, to bed; my busines is of waight +And must not be deferrd: good night, sweet Boy. + +_Boy_. My father was not wont to be so kind +To hug me and to kisse me soe. + +_Leid_. Why do'st thou weep? + +_Boy_. I cannot tell, but sure a tendernes, +Whether it be with your kind words unto me +Or what it is, has crept about my hart, Sir, +And such a sodaine heavynes withall, too. + +_Leid_.--Thou bringst fitt mourners for my funerall. + +_Boy_. But why do you weep, father? + +_Leid_. O, my Boy, +Thy teares are dew-drops, sweet as those on roses, +But mine the faint and yron sweatt of sorrow. +Prethee, sweet Child, to bed; good rest dwell with thee, +And heaven returne a blessing: that's my good Boy. [_Exit boy_. +--How nature rises now and turnes me woman +When most I should be man! Sweet hart, farewell, +Farewell for ever. When we get us children +We then doe give our freedoms up to fortune +And loose that native courage we are borne to. +To dye were nothing,--simply to leave the light; +No more then going to our beds and sleeping; +But to leave all these dearnesses behind us, +These figures of our selves that we call blessings, +Is that which trobles. Can man beget a thing +That shalbe deerer then himself unto him? +--Tush, _Leidenberch_: thinck what thou art to doe; +Not to play _Niobe_ weeping ore her Children, +Unles that _Barnavelt_ appeere againe +And chide thy dull-cold nature.--He is fast: [_Son abed_. +Sleepe on, sweet Child, the whilst thy wreatched father +Prepares him to the yron sleepe of death. +Or is death fabled out but terrable +To fright us from it? or rather is there not +Some hid _Hesperides_, some blessed fruites +Moated about with death. Thou soule of _Cato_, +And you brave _Romaine_ speritts, famous more +For your true resolutions on yourselves +Then Conquest of the world, behold, and see me +An old man and a gowne man, with as much hast +And gladnes entertaine this steele that meetes me +As ever longing lover did his mistris. +--So, so; yet further; soe. + +_Boy within_. Oh! + +_Leid_. Sure the Boy wakes +And I shalbe prevented. + +_Boy_. Now heaven blesse me. +O me, O me! + +_Leid_. He dreames and starts with frightings. +I bleed apace but cannot fall: tis here; +This will make wider roome. Sleep, gentle Child, +And do not looke upon thy bloody father, +Nor more remember him then fitts thy fortune. +--Now shoot your spightes, now clap on all your councells; +Here is a constant frend will not betray me. +I, now I faint; mine eies begin to hunt +For that they have lost for ever, this worldes beutie-- +O oh, ô oh! my long sleepe now has ceizd me. + + _Enter Boy_. + +_Boy_. I heard him groane and cry; I heard him fall sure. +O, there he lyes in his owne blood! ô father, +O my deare father, dead and bequeathd no blessing! +Why did I goe to bed, why was I heavy? +O, I will never sleep againe. The house there! +You that are verteous rise! you that have fathers! +Ho, Master _Provost_! ô my deerest father. +Some Surgeons, Surgeons! + + _Enter Provost & Servts_. + +_Prov_. 'Twas the Boyes voice, certaine. + +_Ser_. What bloody sight is this? 'has killd himself: +Dead, stone-cold dead; he needs no art of Surgeons. + +_Prov_. Take of the Boy. + +_Boy_. O let me dwell here ever. + +_Prov_. This was a fatall stroak, to me a heavy, +For my remissnes wilbe loaden with it. +Bring in the Boy; ile to the State instantly; +Examine all the wounds and keep the knives; +The Boy fast too,--may be he knowes some circumstance. + +_Boy_. O that I never knew againe. + +_Prov_. In with it. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + + +Actus Quartus. + +SCAENA PRIMA. + + + _Enter Captaine[176] and Soldiers_. + +_Cap_. Are the Horses left where I appointed 'em, +And all the Soldiers ready? + +_Sold_. They are all, Captaine. + +_Cap_. 'Tis well: _Modesbargen_ is abroad, for certaine, +Hunting this morning. + +_Sold_. Tis most likely, Sir; +For round about the Castle, since the dawning, +We have heard the merry noyse of hornes. + +_Cap_. Dispeirce then, +Except some three or foure to watch the Castle +Least he break in againe. What Company +Have ye discoverd that attends him? + +_Sold_. Few, Sir: +I do not thinck he has five within the fort now +Able to make resistaunce. + +_Cap_. Let 'em be twenty +We are strong enough to fright 'em; and by all meanes +Let those that stay seek by some trick or other +To make the Bridge good, that they draw it not +If he returne upon us. + +_Sold_. With all care, Sir. + [_Exeunt.--Hornes_. + + _Enter Modes-bargen & Huntsmen_[177]. + +_Mod_. The doggs have hunted well this dewy morning, +And made a merry cry. + +1 _Hunt_. The Hare was rotten[178]; +You should have heard els such a rore, and seene 'em +Make all hir dobles out with such neat hunting +And run at such a merry rate togeather, +They should have dapled ore your bay with fome, Sir. + +_Mod_. 'Tis very well, and so well I affect it +That I could wish I had nere hunted after +Any delight but this, nor sought more honour. +This is securely safe, drawes on no danger, +Nor is this Chace crost with malignant envy. +How sweatly do I live and laugh upon +The perrills I have past, the plotts and traynes! +And now (methincks) I dare securely looke on +The steepe and desprat follyes my indiscretion +Like a blind careles foole had allmost cast me on. +Here I stand saffe 'gainst all their strengths and Stratagems: +I was a boy, a foole to follow _Barnavelt_, +To step into his attempts, to wedd my freedom +To his most dangerous faction, a meere Coxcomb; +But I have scapd their clawes.--Have ye found more game? + + _Enter 2 Huntesmen_[179]. + +2 _Hunt_. Beating about to find a new Hare, we discoverd-- + +_Mod_. Discoverd what? + +2 _Hunt_. Horsemen, and't please ye, Sir, +Scowt round about us, and which way still the doggs went +They made up within view. + +_Mod_. Look't they like Soldiers? + +2 _Hunt_. For certaine they are Soldiers; for if theis are eyes +I saw their pistolls. + +_Mod_. Many? + +2 _Hunt_. Some half a score, Sir. + +_Mod_. I am betraide: away and raise the Boores up, +Bid 'em deale manfully. + +1 _Hunt_. Take a close way home +And clap your spurres on roundly. + +_Mod_. No place safe for me! +This Prince has long armes, and his kindled anger +A thousand eyes--Make hast and raise the Cuntry. + + [_Exeunt_. + + _Enter Captn & Soldiers_. + +_Cap_. This was a narrow scape; he was ith' feild, sure. + +_Sold_. Yes, that was certaine he that ridd of by us, +When we stood close ith' brakes. + +_Cap_. A devill take it! +How are we cozend! pox of our goodly providence! +If he get home or if the Cuntry know it! + +_Sold_. Make haste, he is yet unmand: we may come time enough +To enter with him. Besides there's this advantage: +They that are left behind, instead of helping +A Boores Cart ore the Bridge, loden with hay, +Have crackt the ax-tree with a trick, and there it stands +And choakes the Bridge from drawing. + +_Cap_. There's some hope yet. +Away and clap on spurs: he shall scape hardly +If none of us salute him. Mounte, mounte. + + [_Exeunt_. + + _Enter Modesbargen & Huntesmen_. + +_Mod_. Hell take this hay! 'tis set on purpose here: +Fire it and draw the Bridge: clap faggotts on't +And fire the Cart and all. No Boores come in yet? +Where be your Musketts, Slaves? + +_Hunt_. We have no powder, Sir. + +_Mod_. You have sold me, Rogues, betrayd me: fire the Cart, I say, +Or heave it into th' Moat. + +_Hunt_. We have not men enough. +Will ye goe in? the Cuntry will rise presently, +And then you shall see, Sir, how wee'll buckle with 'em. + +_Mod_. I see I am undon: the[180] hay choakes all, +I cannot get beside it. + + _Enter Captaine & Soldiers_. + +_Cap_. Stir not a foote, +For he that do's has mett his preist.--Goe, ceize his body, +But hurt him not. You must along with us, Sir: +We have an easie nag will swym away with ye,-- +You ghesse the cause, I am sure. When you are ith' saddle once, +Let your Boores loose; we'll show 'em such a baste. +Do not deiect yourself nor rayle at fortune; +They are no helpes: thincke what you have to answeare. + +_Mod_. Captaine, within this Castle in ready coyne +I have a thousand ducketts: doe me one curtesie, +It shalbe brought out presently. + +_Cap_. What is it? +For I have use of money. + +_Mod_. Doe but shoot me, +Clap both your Pistolls into me. + +_Cap_. No, I thanck ye, +I know a trick worth ten o'that: ile love ye +And bring ye to those men that love to see ye. +Away, away; and keepe your pistolls spand still: +We may be forced. + +_Mod_. I am undon for ever. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +SCAENA 2. + + + _Enter Orange, Bredero, Vandort_. + +_Bred_. Is't possible he should be so far tempted[181] +To kill himself? + +_Vand_. 'Has don it and most desperately, +Nor could strong nature stay his hand,--his owne Child +That slept beside him: which showes him guilty, lords, +More then we suspected. + +_Or_. 'Tis to be feard soe +And therefore, howsoere I movd your lordships +To a mild and sweet proceeding in this busines, +That nothing might be construde in't malitious +And make the world believe our owne ends wrought it, +Now it concernes ye to put on more strictnes +And with seveerer eyes to looke into it: +Ye robb yourselves of your owne rightes els, Justice, +And loose those pious names your Cuntries safeties. +And sodainely this must be don and constantly: +The powrs ye hold els wilbe scornd & laughd at, +And theis unchristian stroakes be laid to your charge. + +_Bred_. Your Grace goes right; but with what generall safetie +(For ther's the mayne point), if we proceed seveerely +May this be don? We all know how much followed +And with what swarmes of love this Mounsieur _Barnavelt_ +Is courted all the Cuntry over. Besides, at _Leyden_ +We heare how _Hogerbeets_ behaves himself, +And how he stirrs the peoples harts against us. +And _Grotius_ has byn heard to say, and openly, +(A man of no meane mark nor to be slighted) +That if we durst imprison _Barnavelt_ +He would fire the Court and State-house, and that Sacrifize +He would make more glorious with your blood and ours, Sir. + +_Vand_. All angers are not armd; the lowdest Channell +Runs shallowest, and there betrayes his weaknes: +The deep & silent man threatens the danger. + +_Or_. If they had equall powre to man their wills +And hope, to fling their miseries upon us, +I that nere feard an Army in the feild, +A body of most choice and excellent Soldiers +And led by Captaines honourd for experience: +Can I feare them or shake at their poore whispers? +I that have broke the beds of Mutenies +And bowde againe to faire obedience +Those stubborne necks that burst the raynes of order, +Shall I shrinck now and fall, shot with a rumour? +No, my good Lords, those vollyes never fright me; +Yet, not to seeme remisse or sleep secure here, +I have taken order to prevent their angers; +I have sent Patents[182] out for the choicest Companies +Hether to be remov'd: first, Collonell _Veres_ +From _Dort_; next Sir _Charles Morgans_, a stowt Company; +And last my Cosens, the Count _Ernests_ Company: +With theis I doubt not to make good our busines; +They shall not find us babes. + +_Bred_. You are nobely provident. + +_Vand_. And now proceed when it please you, and what you thinck fit +We shall subscribe to all. + +_Or_. I thanck your Honours. +Call in the Captaine of my Guard. + +_Serv_. Hee's here, Sir. + + _Enter Captaine_. + +_Or_. Harck in your eare. + +_Cap_. I shall, Sir. + +_Or_. Doe it wisely +And without tumult. + +_Cap_. I observe your Grace. + +_Or_. Now take your rest, my lords: for what care followes +Leave it to me. + +_All_. We wish it all succes, Sir. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +SCAENA 3. + + + _Enter Barnavelt (in his studdy)_. + +_Bar_. This from the King of _Fraunce_, of much importance, +And this from _Englands_ Queene, both mightie Princes +And of immortall memories: here the Rewards sett,-- +They lou'd me both. The King of _Swechland_ this, +About a Truyce; his bounty, too. What's this? +From the Elector Palatine of _Brandenburge_, +To doe him faire and acceptable offices: +I did so; a rich iewell and a chaine he sent me. +The Count of _Solems_, and this from his faire Countess +About compounding of a busines: +I did it and I had their thancks. Count _Bentham_, +The Archbishop of _Cullen_, Duke of _Brunswick_, +Grave _Embden_: theis from Citties, theis from Provinces; +Petitions theis; theis from the States for places. +Have I held correspondence with theis Princes, +And had their loves, the molding of their busines, +Trusted with their most secreat purposes? +Of every State acquainted with the misteries? +And must I stick here now, stick unreleevd, too? +Must all theis glories vanish into darknes, +And _Barnavelt_ passe with 'em and glide away +Like a spent exhalation? I cannot hold; +I am crackt too deepe alredy. What have I don +I cannot answeare? Foole! remember not +Fame has too many eares and eyes to find thee! +What help, ô miserable man? none left thee. +What constant frends? 'tis now a cryme to know thee +... ... ... be death. + + _Enter Servant_. + +_Serv_. My Lady would entreat, Sir-- + +_Bar_. My head? What art thou? from whom sent? + +_Serv_. Heaven blesse me! + +_Bar_. Are they so greedy of my blood?--O, pardon me: +I know thee now; thou art my honest Servant. +What would thy Lady? + +_Serv_. Your Company to supper, Sir. + +_Bar_. I cannot eate; I am full alredy, tell hir: +Bid hir sitt downe: full, full, too full. [_Exit Serv_. +My thancks +Poyzd equally with those faire services +I have done the States, I should walk confidently +Upon this high-straind danger. O, this end swayes me, +A heavy bad opinion is fixt here +That pulls me of; and I must downe for ever. + + _Enter Daughter_[183] + +_Daught_. Sir, will it please ye-- + +_Bar_. Ha! + +_Daught_. Will it please ye, Sir-- + +_Bar_. Please me! what please me?--that I send thee, Girle, +To some of my great Masters to beg for me. +Didst thou meane so? + +_Daught_. I meane, Sir-- + +_Bar_. Thou art too charitable +To prostitute thy beutie to releeve me; +With thy soft kisses to redeeme from fetters +The stubborne fortune of thy wretched father. + +_Daught_. I understand ye not. + +_Bar_. I hope thou do'st not. + +_Daught_. My Lady Mother, Sir-- + +_Bar_. Prethee, good Girle, +Be not so cruell to thy aged father +To somme up all his miseries before him. + +_Daught_. I come, Sir, to entreat your Company. + +_Bar_. I am not alone. + +_Daught_. My Mother will not eate, Sir. +--What fitt is this! + +_Bar_. There can be no attonement: +I know the Prince: _Vandort_ is fleshd upon me, +And _Bredero_, though he be of noble nature, +Dare not step in. Wher's my Son _William_? +His Goverment is gon, too; and the Soldier, +O, the falce Soldier! What! wouldst thou have a husband? +Goe, marry an English Captaine, and hee'll teach thee +How to defy thy father and his fortune.-- +I cannot eate; I have no stomach, Girle. + +_Daught_. Good Sir, be patient. + +_Bar_. No news from _Grotius_? +No flow of frends there? _Hoger-beets_ lye still, too? +--Away: ile come anon. + +_Daught_. Now heaven preserve ye! [_Exit_. + +_Bar_. A gentle Girle: why should not I pray, too? +I had nere more need. When I am sett and gon, +What understanding can they stick up then +To fill the place I bore? None, not a man: +To traffick with Great Princes? none: to deale +With all the trobles of the war? None, certaine, no man: +To bring in daylie treasure? I know no man; +They cannot pick a man made up to serve 'em. +Why should I feare then? doubt, and fly before +Myne owne weake thoughts?--Art thou there, too? + + _Enter Wife[184] and Daughter_. + +_Wife_. Fy, fy, Sir: +Why do you suffer theis sad dead retirements +To choake your speritts? You have studied long enough +To serve the uses of those men that scorne ye; +'Tis time you take your ease now. + +_Bar_. I shall shortly; +An everlasting ease, I hope. + +_Wife_. Why weep ye, +My deere Sir? speak. + +_Bar_. Never till now unhappie! +Thy fruit there and my fall ripen togeather +And fortune gives me heires of my disgraces. + +_Wife_. Take nobler thoughts. + +_Bar_. What will becom of thee, Wiffe, +When I am gon? When they have gorgd their envies +With what I have, what honest hand in pitty +Will powre out to thy wants? What noble eye +Will looke upon my Children strooke with miserie +And say 'you had a father that I honourd; +For his sake be my Brothers and my Sisters.' + +_Wife_. There cannot be such crueltie. + +_Bar_. I hope not; +Yet what so confident Sailour that heares the Sea rore, +The winds sing lowd and dreadfull, the day darkend, +But he will cry 'a storme'! downe with his Canvas +And hull, expecting of that horrid feavour? + + _Enter Son_. + +--How now? What newes? + +_Son_. Plucke up your hart, Sir, fairely +And wither not away thus poorely from us; +Be now secure: the myst ye feard is vanishd,-- +_Leidenberch's_ dead. + +_Bar_. Dead? + +_Son_. Killd himself; his owne hand +Most bravely was his Justice; nor left behind him +One peece of paper to dishonour ye. +They are all to seeke now for their Accusations. + +_Bar_. And is he dead? so timely, too? so truly? +Speak't againe, _Will_? + +_Son_. Hee's dead, Sir, if I live here. + +_Bar_. And his owne hand? + +_Son_. His hand and will performd it. + +_Bar_. Give me some wyne. I find now, notwithstanding + [_Enter Servant with wine_. +The opposition of those mindes that hate me, +A wise-man spyns his owne fate and secures it. +Nor can I, that have powre to perswade men dye, +Want living frends to iustifie my Creadit. +Goe in and get me meat now; invyte my frends, +I am determind to be high and merry. +Thou hast lost thy Charge; wee'll have another, _Will_; +It shall goe hard els. The Prince of _Orange_ now +Will find what frends I have, and of what reckning; +And when he seekes this life, he must make passage +Through thousands more and those he little dreames of. + +_Son_. I wonder how he got that speritt, Sir, to dye soe? + +_Bar_. He was a weak man, indeed, but he has redeemd it: +There be some other I could wish of his mind. +Do'st thinck they dare doe any thing now. + +_Son_. 'Troth, I thinck not, Sir. + +_Bar_. No, Boy, I warrant thee; they make great soundes, +But mark what followes. Prethee, let's be merry, +I want it much. + +_Son_. I am glad to see you so, Sir. + + _Enter Servant_. + +_Bar_. I cannot be above two daies from Councell, +I know their wants. How now, what haste? + +_Serv_. O, Sir, ye are undon; +We have lost ye. + +_Bar_. Ha! + +_Serv_. For ever lost ye. + +_Bar_. Why? + +[_Serv_.] The Captaine of the Guard, the Princes Captaine-- + +_Bar_. Where? how? + + _Enter Wife & Daughter_. + +_Serv_. Is broken in now upon us. + +_Wife_. He will not be denyde. O, my deare Husband! +The cruell Princes Captaine! + + [_Captaine within_. + +_Cap_. Ope the dore; +Wee'll force it els, and all that dare resist us +Wee'll put to th'Sword. + +_Bar_. Open the dore: farewell, Wiffe; +Goe to the French Embassadour presently; +There's all my hope. To him make knowne my misery, +Wooe him with teares, with praires: this kisse; be happie. + +_Wife_. O, we shall never see ye more! + + [_Exeunt Wife and Daughter_. + + _Enter Captaine & others_. + +_Bar_. Away!-- +You Instrument of blood, why doe ye seeke us? +I have knowne the day you have wayted like a suppliant +And those knees bended as I past. Is there no reverence +Belonging to me left now, that like a Ruffian +Rudely ye force my lodgings? No punishment +Due to a cryme of that fowle nature? + +_Cap_. You must pardon me, +I have commission, Sir, for what I offer, +And from those men that are your Masters, too; +At least you'll find 'em soe. You must shift your lodging, +And presently: I have a charge to see ye +Yeild yourself quietly. + +_Bar_. Goe and tell their Lordships +I will attend to-morrow. I know my time +And how to meet their mallice without guards. +This is the Prince, the cruell Prince your Master, +The thirstie Prince of this poore Life. + +_Cap_. Be not vext; +That will not help ye, Sir. + +_Bar_. I wilbe vext, +And such an anger I will fling amongst 'em +Shall shake the servile soules of these poore wretches +That stick his slight deservings above mine. +I charge ye draw your Guard off and disperce 'em: +I have a powre as full as theirs. + +_Cap_. You'll find not; +And I must have ye with me. + +_Bar_. And am I subiect +That have stood the brunt of all their busines, +And when they slept watcht to secure their slombers,-- +Subiect to slights, to scornes, to taynts, to tortures? +To feed one privat mallice am I betrayd? +Myne age, myne honour and my honest dealing +Sold to the hangmans Sword? + +_Cap_. I cannot stay. + +_Bar_. Take me +And glory in my blood, you most ungratefull; +Feed your long bloody hopes and bath your angers +In _Barnavelts_ deservings; share my Services; +Let it be death to pitty me; to speak well of me, +The ruyn of whole famylies. When I am gon +And angry war againe shall ceize your Cuntry, +Too late remember then and cursse your follyes. +--I am ready. Farwell, Son; remember me +But not my fortune; let them cry that shall want me. + +_Cap_. No man come neere on paine of death: away with him. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +SCAENA 4. + + + _Enter Orange & 1 Captaine_.[185] + +_Cap_. And as I told your Highnes, so wee tooke him. + +_Or_. 'Twas with discretion and valour followd. +You were not noted as you made entraunce +Into the _Hague_? + +_Cap_. No, Sir; 'twas about midnight, +And few were stirring but the Guard. + +_Or_. The better. +Let his being brought in be still conceald, and tell him +If uncompelld he will confes the truth +At _Barnavelts_ Arraignement, that all favour +That I can wyn him shall prepare a way +To quallifie his fault. + +_Cap_. Ile work him to it +And doubt not. + + _Enter Burgers & Women with bowghs & flowres_. + +_Cap_. 'Tis Kramis[186]-time, +In which it is a custome with the people +To deck their dores with Garlonds, Bowghes, and flowres +That are most gratious. + +_Or_. I remember. +--Stand close. + +[1] _Burg_. Strew, strew: more Garlonds and more Flowres. +Up with the Bowghes! Sacramant, I will have +My noble frends house, Mounseiur _Barnavelts_, +As well deckt as his Excellencies Court, +For though they have got him in prison he deserves +As well as any. + +_Cap_. Mark you that. + +2 _Burg_. 'Tis said +They will cutt of his head. + +1 _Burg_. Much![187] with a Cusshin! +They know he has too many frends. + +[2] _Burg_. They dare not. +People will talke: I hope ere long to see him +As great as ever. + +[1] _Burg_. Greater too, I doubt not, +And of more powre; his feet upon the necks +Of all his Enemies. + +_Or_. I am glad I heard this; +And _Barnavelt_ shall feele I will make use oft. +Come; follow me. + [_Exeunt_. + +2 _Burg_. So, now the merry Song +We made for his good Lady. Lustique,[188] hoa! + + [Song. + + _Enter Wife above_. + +_Wife_. All thancks, kind frends, that a sad house can give ye +Pray you receive; for I rest well assurd, +Though theis sports are unseasonable here, +They testifie your loves; and, if my Lord +Ere live to be himself againe, I know +He will remember it. + +1 _Burg_. Now for the Daunce, Boyes. + +_Wife_. Ther's something for your paines: drinck it, I pray. + +2 _Burg_. To a doyt, my vroa, to thy Lords health and thyne. +The Bree[189] for his Excellencie and the Heeres +That love him not. Ten hundred thousand blessings +To him and thee, my vroa. + [_Daunce_. + +_Wife_. I thanck you, frend. + [_Exeunt_. + + + +SCAENA 5. + + + _Enter Orange, Bredero, Vandort, William, Lords. + [Table_. + +_Vand_. Let him be sent for presently: he shall know, + [_A Bar brought in_. +Were he ten times more popular, his frends +And flatterers Centuple, the Sword of Justice +Shall fall on him as on the meanest man +Since he deserves it. + + _Enter Provost, Captaines & Guard with Barnavelt_. + +_Pro_. Make roome for the Prisoner. + +_Bar_. My dutie to your Highnes and theis Princes +And an increase of wisdome to your Lordships, +For which the world admires you, I wish to you. +Alas, what troble do's a weake old man, +(That is, being out of all imployment, useles) +The bag of his deserts, too, cast behind you, +Impose upon this Senat? My poore life +(Which others envy makes your Instruments +To fight against) will hardly be a Conquest +Worthie such great performers. + +_Vand_. Mounseiur _Barnavelt_, +'Tis no mans envy that hath brought us hether +To sitt as Judges on you, but your owne. +Your owne late actions they have raisd a war +Against your former merritts, and defeated +What ever then was ranckt for good and great, +For which your Enemies, those that you thought frends, +Triumph, not wee. + +_Bre_. We rather wish you could +Acquitt yourself of that for which we have +Too evident prooffes, then labour to intrap you. + +_Bar_. I must beleeve and suffer whatsoever +Your Lordships charge me with: yet would gladly heare +What my faultes are. + +_Vand_. Read the Confessions +Of _Leidenberch_ and _Taurinus_. + +_Bar_. _Leidenberch_! + +_Officer reads_. First, that the _Arminian_ faction (of which Sir _John +Van Olden Barnavelt_, late Advocate of _Holland_ and _West Frizeland_ +and Councellor of State, was without contradiction the head) had +resolved and agreed to renounce and break the generallity and unitie +of the State. + +Secondly, Change and alter the Religion, and to that end, without the +Consent of the Generall States, had raysed up and dispeirsed 3000 +Arminian Soldiers. + +Thirdly, To degrade the Prince of _Orange_. + +Fourthly, To massacre the people of the Townes which were their greatest +Enemies or offered resistaunce. + +Fiftly, yf that fayled, to take in assistaunce of some forreigne +Potentates, as _Spaine_ or _Brabant_, delivering unto them _Utricht, +Nunweghen, Bergen op Zone_, and the _Brill_-- + +_Bar_. And that, with others, this was _Barnavelts_ purpose? +For so your Lordships take it. + +_Bred_. With good reason. + +_Vand_. Too many and strong proofes invyting us +To creadit it. + +_Bar_. Yf you will have them such, +All truth I can bring to dyvert your Lordships +From your determinate opinion that way +Will not remove them. Yet 'tis strange that man +Should labour to devide those Generall States +That had no weak hand in unyting them,-- +That _Barnavelt_ (a name you have remembered +When you have thought by whom you were mad happie)-- +That _Barnavelt_ (alowd I dare repeat it), +Who, when there was Combustion in the State, +Your Excellence, Grave _William_ and Count _Henrie_, +Taking instructions for your Commaunds +From one that then ruld all; the Provinces +Refucing to bring in their Contributions +And arguing whether the West _Frizelander_ +And _Hollander_ had powre to raise such Tribut, +When many of the Governours stood ill +Affected to you, all our Garrisons +Not sworne then to the Generall States but others, +Which the promiscuous multitude gladly followed: +When _Graves_ and _Vendloe_ were held by the _Spaniard_ +And _Nunweghen_ with violence assaulted, +Confusion with one greedy gripe being ready +To seaze on all; then when the _Sluice_ was lost +And all in muteny at _Midleborough_, +Who then rose up or durst step in before me +To doe these Cuntries service? Who then labourd +More then the now suspected _Barnavelt_ +T'appease seditions and compound all Quarrells? +Who pacified the Malcontents? Who taught you +To stand upon your Guards and trust yourselves? +O, you forgettfull, all this I performd +And in the golden fagot of faire Concord +Bound safely up those strengthes which Mutenies, +Corruption and homebred Traitors scatterd. + +_Vand_. This is a point you often choose to treat of, +And yet some part of theis good services +None will deny you. + +_Or_. But to ingrosse all +Would argue me your ward, should I give way too't, +And these grave Lords your Schollers. + +_Bar_. In the Art +Of Goverment they scornd not once to be soe, +Nor you to give me hearing: and if ever +'Twer lawful th' unthanckfull men t'upbraid +Unequall benefitts, let it not in me +Be now held glorious if I speake my best. +I have five times in regall Embassies +Byn sent the principall Agent for theis Cuntries, +And for your good have spoken face to face +With mightie Kings: twyce with that virgin Queene, +Our Patronesse of happie memory, +_Elizabeth_ of _England_; twyce in _Fraunce_ +With that invincible King that worthely +(Though dead) is still'd the _Great, Henry_ the _fourth_; +Once with the King of _Britaine_ that now is: +Yet let my greatest Enemy name the least +Of theis so high Imployments in which I +Treated without advantage, and returnd not +With proffitt, as with honour, to my Cuntry, +And let me fall beneath the worst aspersion +His mallice can throw on me. Besides Soldiers +So often levied by my meanes for you, +Which to particularize were teadious, +Two millions and five hundred thousand pounds, +For which the Provinces stood bound, I wrought +Freely to be dischargd; the Townes they pawnd +To be deliverd up; and after all +Theis meritorious and prosperous travells +T'unyte theis States, can _Barnavelt_ be suspected +To be the authour to undoe that knot +Which with such toyle he fastend[190]. + +_Or_. Pawse, I beseech you, +And while you gather breath to fill the Trumpet +Of your deserts give me leave to deliver +A litle for the States and mine owne honour. +We have heard a glorious Catalogue of your vertues +But not one vice or slip of yours rememberd; +But I will help your memory:--who was he +That gave intelligence of my sodaine comming +To surprize _Antwerpe_? They that brought the Letters +Were knowne and but from you could have no notice +Of any such design. Who hinderd me +From rescuing of _Rheinberch_ in the last Seige? +Who warranted the yeilding of it up +Without necessitie to the Governour? +Who was the cause no greater powre was sent +Against the Enemie when he past the Rhine +And tooke the Townes of _Oldensell, Lingen, Groll_? +To thinck of this would give a litle vent +To the windy bladder of your vanitie +Which you have blowne to an unlymitted vastnes. +Your Insolence to me before the Battaile +Of _Flaunders_ I forget[191].-- +Call in _Modesbargen_. + +_Bar_. [aside[192]] He a prisoner, too! +Then I am lost. + + _Enter Captaine with Modesbargen_. + +_Or_. Ha! do's that startle you? + +_Bar_. [aside[192]] I must collect myself. + +_Or_. You shall heare more. + +_Modesb_. O, Mounseiur _Barnavelt_, do we meet thus? +I am as sorry to behold you there +As know myself a Prisoner. Now you perceive +To what a desperate state your headlong Counsells +And rash designes have brought us: to stand out now +Were to no purpose, for, alas, they have +Too pregnant prooffes against us. + +_Bar_. You that feele +The horrour of fowle guilt in your falce bosom +Confes yourself soe; my strong Inocence +To the death stands constant. + +_Or_. Take _Modesbargen_ in. + + [_Exit Cap. and Modesb_.] + +_Vand_. This is an impudence I never read of. +But now wee'll show thee, miserable man, +Such further prooffes as would call up a blush +Upon the devills cheeke. Looke upon this, +Signd by the Governor, Chauncellor and Counsell +Of _Gilderland_ and _Zutphen_, who here name thee +The roote and head of the late Schisme. + +_Bred_. And this +Sent from the Lords of _Utrecht_, where 'tis prov'd +That the new Companies were raisd by you, +And to what purpose. + +_William_. To subvert Religion, +To deface Justice and to breake the union +And holly League betweene the _Provinces_. + +[_Henry_.[193] The Proclamations are allowd by you +Sent forth against the Protestants; and here +Your resolution to degrade my Brother +And then dispose of him as you thought fitt.] + +_Vand_. Your plott here to withdraw all the old Soldiers +From the Commandement of the States, and wyn them +To serve for your ends in a Civill war. + +_Bred_. To raise up Cittizen against Cittizen, +Stranger gainst stranger, Soldier against Soldier, +And Maiestrates against the Maiestrates. + +_Or_. To waste the Land within that with lesse danger +The forraigne Enemy might make his entraunce. +Yf then this be not treacherie beyond +All presidents of Traitours-- + +_Bar_. Give me Leave +Onely to smile, then say all theis are falce, +Your witnesses subornd, your testemonies +And wrytings forgd, and this elaborate forme +Of Justice to delude the world a cover +For future practises: this I affirme +Upon my soule[194]. Now when you please condempne me: +I will not use one sillable for your mercy +To have mine age renewd and once againe +To see a second triumph of my glories. +You rise, and I grow tedious; let me take +My farwell of you yet, and at the place +Where I have oft byn heard; and, as my life +Was ever fertile of good councells for you, +It shall not be in the last moment barren. +_Octavius_[195], when he did affect the Empire +And strove to tread upon the neck of _Rome_ +And all hir ancient freedoms, tooke that course[196] +That now is practisd on you; for the _Catos_ +And all free sperritts slaine or els proscribd +That durst have stir'd against him, he then sceasd +The absolute rule of all. You can apply this[197]: +And here I prophecie I, that have lyvd +And dye a free man, shall when I am ashes +Be sensible of your groanes and wishes for me; +And when too late you see this Goverment +Changd to a Monarchie[198] youll howle in vaine +And wish you had a _Barnavelt_ againe. +Now lead me where you will: a speedy Sentence: +I am ready for it and 'tis all I ask you. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + + +_Actus Quintus_. + +SCAENA PRIMA. + + + _Enter Wife, Daughter, Servant with Peares_. + +_Wife_. Denyde to see my Husband! ô you Tirants! +And (to increase my misery) in vaine +By heaven I kneeld for't, wept and kneeld in vaine +To such as would, while _Barnavelt_ was himself-- +But why do I remember that word 'was,' +That never happie word of 'was.' + +_Serv_. Good Madam, +Beare (with your usuall wisdom) what is not +In you to help. The strict guard's kept upon him; +His State ceizd on; my Lord your Son disgracd, too, +And all your frends suspected, may assure you +No price beneath his head must answeare for him. + +_Daughter_. But is he not alredy dead? + +_Wife_. I, I, +There lyes my feare. + +_Serv_. I sweare to you I saw him +Not many howres since, and hundreds more; +But yet, as one that's bound to honour him, +I had rather have had assuraunce of his death +Than so to have seen him. + +_Both_. Why? + +_Serv_. I have followd him +When every step he made met a Petition, +And these, that are his Judges now, like Clyents +Have wayted on him. The whole Court attended +When he was pleasd to speake, and, with such murmours +As glad Spectators in a Theater +Grace their best Actors with, they ever heard him; +When to have had a sight of him was held +A prosperous omen; when no eye gazd on him +That was not filld with admiration, not +As now with scorne or pitty. His rude Guard, +For proofe that they contempne all such as ayme +Or hope for his release (as if he were +Some prodigie or monster), each night show him +To such as greive his fortune, which must be +To him worse then ten thousand deaths made horrid +With all the actes of Crueltie. + +_Daught_. I have hope yet +To see an alteration. + +_Wife_. My good Servant, +He has some frends left yet and powerfull ones +That can doe more then weepe for him as we doe; +Those I will strayt sollicite. In the meane time, +That to his comfort he may know so much, +Endeavour thou to have this simple present +As from thy self sent to him. + +_Serv_. I will hazard +All that can fall upon me to effect it. + + [_Exeunt[199] Wife and Daughter_. + + _Enter Provost & Guard_. + +_Pro_. What makes this fellow here? Whether would ye, Sir? + +_Serv_. Sir, to desire accesse unto my Lord +Were to ask that I know must be denide, +And therefore I forbeare it; but intreating +What cannot wrong you in the graunt, I hope +To find you curteous. + +_Pro_. What's the Suit? + +_Serv_. This onely: +My Lord, your prisoner, for my service gave me +A poore house with an Orchard in the Cuntry. +The fruites of which he did not scorne to taste of +In th'height of his prosperitie; but of all +That pleasd his pallat there was one faire tree, +On which theis Peares grew, which by his appointment +Were still reservd for him, and as a Rent +Due for my Living I stood bound to tender. +Theis, yf you please, the last I shall pay to him, +I would present him with, by what Attorney +Your goodnes shall prescribe me. + +_Prov_. They are faire Peares, +Exceeding faire ones: ile make bold with one, +The rest beare to him. + +_Serv_. [aside[200]] All wilbe discoverd, +I am glad I am got off, yet. [_Exit_. + + _Enter Provosts Wife_[201]. + +_Prov_. What make you here? +Do you come to traile a pike or use a Musket? + +_Wife_. For neither, Sir; I came to see you. + +_Pro_. Home! +This is no place for women. To your Gossips! +This burthen would become a Chamber better. + +_Wife_. 'Tis a faire Peare. + +_Prov_. You long for't: pray you take it, +You are priviledgd now to beg.--Ha! charmes in't? stay, +Give mee't. I would not for a thousand dollars +This had byn undiscoverd. Pray you goe home; +At night ile see you. + +_Wife_. You know my obedience +And I must practise it. + +_Prov_. Make out for the fellow +That came with this device. 'Twas queintly carried: +The stalke pluckt cleanly out, and in the quill +This scroll conveyd. What ere it be the Prince +Shall instantly peruse it. + + _Enter Orange, Wm., Vandort, Bredero_. + +_Or_. How came you by this? + +_Prov_. I intercepted it in a dish of Peares +Brought by a man of _Barnavelts_, but sent to him +From some of better ranck. + +_Or_. See what is written here,-- +'You have frends left and therefore, Sir, dispaire not.' + +_Vand_. 'Tis this that feeds his Insolence, theis are they +That, when they should have paid their prairs for him +As for a guilty man, adoarnd his house +In the dispight of us and of our Justice. + +_Bred_. But such shall find their flattering breath but makes +The fire, our Cuntries safetie byds us cherish, +To burne with greater heate. + +_Vand_. And so consume him. + +_Or_. The freedom of our goverment, and our honours, +And what we dare doe now lies at the stake. +The better part of all the christian world +Marks our proceedings, and it wilbe said, +Yf having the Conspirators in our powre +We sentence none of them, being convincd, too, +Of fowre and thirtie Articles and each treason, +'Tis don for feare. Then, to affright the rest, +I hold it fitt that _Barnavelt_, one that has +Most frends and meanes to hurt, and will fall therefore +With greater terror, should receive his Sentence, +Then dye as he deserves. For _Modesbargen_ +And _Hogerbeets_ we shall find fitt time to +Thinck of them hereafter. + +_Bred_. Let him be sent for. + +_Vand_. In the meane time 'tis fit we should give hearing +To the _French_ Embassadors, who, I know, come now +To mediat for him. + +_Bred_. Wayt upon them in: +Their Propositions shalbe answeard freely, +And by such men as are their frends, not Servants. + + _Enter Boisise, Morier, Wife, Daughter, Attendants_. + +_Boi_[202]. We will plead for him and prevaile, we doubt not. +Take comfort therefore, Madam, and a while, +Since you are not to be admitted here, +Leave us to our endeavors. + +_Wife_. Heaven direct +And prosper theis your charitable traviles. + + [_Exeunt Wife & Daughter_. + +_Or_. Bring Chaires there for their Lordships. + + [_2 Chaires_. + +_Vand_.[203] And prepare them +A sylent hearing. + +_Bois_. My good Lords, +We are commaunded by the King our Master +(Who ever hath respected your affaires +As the tranquility of his owne kingdoms) +To let you thus far understand his pleasure: +He do's exhort you, as the best foundation +Of your estate, with all care to preserve +The union of your provinces, and wishes +The change that you have made of Maiestrates, +The Advocate and Counsellors of State +In many of your Townes, breed not dissentions +In steed of ceasing them. Touching your Prisoners +That stand accusd of detestable Crymes, +His Counsaile is, if they be culpable, +That you use speedy Justice and with rigour. + +_Mor_. Ever remembring that the greatest Princes +Have sometimes to their glory byn most apt +To pardon what was enterprizd against +Their Goverments, nay their lives; and that the freest +And the best Common-Wealthes, have alwaies usd +To spare the blood of their owne Cittizens, +And that in great offenders--it still being +The principall signe of libertie and freedom +Not easily, but with mature advice, +To touch the lives of Cittizens. + +_Bois_. And the rather +When question is made of such as are +Your officers placed in authoritie, +Of whom the ancientst Mounsieur _Barnavelt_, +So much commended for so many good +And notable services don for theis Cuntries, +Deserves most serious regard. My Master +And other Kings & Princes your allyes, +Lyving yet witnesses of his great meritts +And with such admiration that they can +Be hardly brought to thinck he should conspire +Against these States, for which yourselves best know +What travayles he hath undergon; and therefore +Once more he do's advice you to use mercy, +Which if you doe, he then shall thinck you merit +The many favours you have tasted from him: +Yf not, he having given you whollsom Counsaile, +Yf you refuce it he must thinck himself +Slighted in his requests; and then, perhaps, +Hereafter you may misse that promptnes in him +Which you have found when your wants most requird it. + +_Vand_. May it please your Highnes in the names of all +To make their Lordships answeare. + +_Or_. Willingly; +For I must still be glad to take occasion +To speak how much your Lordships and myself +Ever stand bound to that most Christian King +Whose favours, with all thancks, we must acknowledge +As with all care preserve. Onely we hope +His Maiestie will give us leave to say +We greive that he is misinformd of us +And our proceedings, of which we hereafter +Will give him certaine and unanswerable proofes +To iustefie our Actions, which we will +Make knowne to all the world; till when we wish +He will be pleasd to give way to the States +To finish what they have begon, with Justice +Temperd with mercy; and that your good Lordships +Will give his Grace to understand thus much, +If with the generall voice you doe approve it. + +_Bred_. We will confirme it with our generall Seale, +And send our answeare to his Propositions +With our respect and duties. + +_Mor_. This we shall +Make knowne unto him. + +_Or_. Roome there for their Lordships. + + [_Ext. Embs_. + +_Bred_. What thinck you now, my Lords? + +_Vand_. In my opinion +'Tis time he had his Sentence! + +_Wm_. Is it drawne? + +_Vand_. Yes, here it is. The peoples loves grow daungerous; +In every place the whispers of his rescue; +The lowd and common voice of his deservings +Is floong abroad. Nor doe they handle theis things +By rules of truth and reason, but their owne wills-- +Their headstrong hott affections. + +_Bred_. Is he sent for? + +_Or_. Yes and will presently be here. + +_Bred_. Sit downe then, +And now with speedy Justice let's prepare +To cutt off this Imposthume. + + _Enter Provost & Guard, with Barnavelt_. + +_Vand_. 'Tis high time, Sir. + +_Prov_. Roome for the Prisoner! + +_Vand_. Bring him in; Sit downe, Sir, +And take your last place with us. + +_Bar_. 'Tis your forme +And I infringe no order. + +_Bred_. Mounseiur _Barnavelt_, +Will ye confes yet freely your bad practises +And lay those Instruments open to the World, +Those bloody and bold Instruments you wrought by? +Mercy may sleepe awhile but never dyes, Sir. + +_Bar_. I have spoake all I can, and seald that all +With all I have to care for now, my Conscience. +More I beseech your honours-- + +_Or_. Take your pleasure. + +_Vand_. You will give us no more lights: What this world gives you, +To morrow thus we take away. Receive it. + +_Bar_. My Sentence? + +_Vand_. Yes; consider for your soule now, +And so farewell. + +_Bar_. I humbly thanck your honours: +I shall not play my last Act worst. + +_Bred_. Heavens mercy +And a still conscience wayt upon your end, Sir. + +_Or_. Now guard him back againe: by the break of day +You shall have order from us. + +_Prov_. Roome for the Prisoner!-- + + [_Ext. Provost and Guard, with Barnavelt_. + +_Or_. The world shall know that what's iust we dare doe. + +_Vand_. Nor shall the desperate act of _Leidenberch_ +Delude what we determind. Let his Coffin +Be therefore hangd up on the publique Gallowes. +Th'Executioners like hungry vultures +Have smelld out their imployment. + +_Or_. Let them have it: +And all that plot against the generall good +Learne from this mans example, great in age, +Greater in wealth and in authoritie, +But matchles in his worldly pollicie, +That there is one above that do's deride +The wisest counsailes that are misaplide. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +SCAENA 2. + + + _Enter Harlem, Leyden & Utrecht Executioners_. + +_Har_. Now hard and sharpe, for a wager, who shall doe it. Here's a +Sword would doe a man's head good to be cut of with it; cures all +rhumes, all Catharres, megroomes, verteegoes: presto, be gone! + +_Ley_. You must not carry it, _Harlem_: you are a pretty fellow and lop +the lyne of life well, but weake to _Baltazar_. Give roome for _Leyden_: +heer's an old Cutter, heer's one has polld more pates and neater then a +dicker[204], of your Barbers; they nere need washing after. Do's not thy +neck itch now to be scratchd a little with this? + +_Har_. No, in truth do's it not; but if you'll try first, yf I doe not +whip your dodipoll as clenly of and set it on againe as handsomely as it +stands now, that you may blow your nose and pledge me too Cans after-- + +_Ley_. I was afraid +The rogue had don't indeed. + +_Utr_. You two imagine now +You are excellent workmen and that you can doe wonders, +And _Utrecht_ but an Asse. Let's feele your Raizors: +Handsawes, meere handsawes! Do you put your knees to'em too, +And take mens necks for timber? You cutt a feather? +Cut butter when your tooles are hot! Looke here, puppies; +Heer's the sword that cutt of _Pompeis_ head. + +_Har_. The head of a Pumpion.[205] + +_Utr_. Looke on't but come not neere it: the very wind on't +Will borrow a leg or an arme. Heers touch & take, boyes! +And this shall moaw the head of Mounsieur _Barnavelt_. +Man is but grasse and hay: I have him here +And here I have him. I would undertake with this Sword +To cutt the devills head of, hornes and all, +And give it to a Burger for his breakfast. + +_Ley_. We know you have byn the headman of the parish +A great while, _Utricht_, and ministerd much Justice, +Nickt many a worthie gamester; and that you, _Harlem_, +Have shortend many a hanging cause, to your Commendation: +Yet, for all this, who shall trym Monsieur _Barnavelt_ +Must run by fortune. You are proper men both; +But why before me that have studdied the true trick on't +Theis twenty yeeres, and run through all the theorems? + +_Har_. Let's fling for't then. + +_Ley_. I am content. + +_Utr_. And I. + +_Har_. Sit round, then: here are dyce, and ile begin to ye. +Have at your head, Sir _John_! dewce ace[206]; a doggs-head![207] +The devill turnd this ace up. Farwell, velvet gowne! +Thou hast mist the luckiest hand to scratch thy Coxcomb. + +_Ley_. No, no, Sir. +Now for my part. Heigh! fight aloft for the head, boyes. +How? Cater-trey[208]? + +_Utr_. Will you take a sleeve for your share, Sir? + +_Ley_. 'Tis but a desperat cast, and so hee'l find it, +If it fall to me. Cast for your game. + +_Utr_. Have at it: +Stay, let me swing my Sword thrice round first: now, +Now the Graves head ... goose giblitts.-- +Two sixes, boyes! I knew I should performe it. + +Har. Ye have it: thanck your fortune. + +_Utr_. I could not misse it, +I never lost so faire a stake yet. How ile doe it +And in what posture: first, how ile take my leave of him, +With a few teares to draw more money from him; +Then fold up his braunchd[209] gowne, his hat, his doblet, +And like the devill cry 'mine owne! lye there, boyes!' +Then bind his eyes; last stir myself up bravely +And, in the midle of a whollsome praire, +Whip and--_hic iacet Barnavelt_.-- +Come, let's sing our old Song, +And then come view me how I doe my busines. +Boy, come, sing you for me. + + [_Song. Exeunt_. + + + +SCAENA 3. + + + _Enter 2 Captaines[210] & their Soldiers, severally_. + +1 _Cap_. Here stand we fast. + +2 _Cap_. Cock all your Musketts, Soldiers, now, +And gentlemen be ready to bend your pikes; +The prisoner's comming out. + +1 _Cap_. But doe you thinck +They meane to take his head of, or to fright him? + +2 _Cap_. Heaven keep me from such frights. Why are theis Guards +Commaunded to make good the Execution, +If they intend not death? + +1 _Cap_. But dare they doe it? + +2 _Cap_. What dare not Justice do that's right and honest? +Is he not proov'd a guilty man? What bugs +Should publick safety be afraid to looke on? +Do you hold the United _States_ so tame to feare him,-- +Feare him a Traitor, too? + +1 _Cap_. You know hee's much lov'd, +And every where they stir in his Compassion. + +2 _Cap_. They'll stir so long till some of 'em will sinck for't, +Some of the best I feare that glewd his faction; +Their building lyes discoverd and their bases broken. + +1 _Cap_. There is much money laid in every place, too, +Hundreds and thousands, that they dare not strike him. + +2 _Cap_. Give loosers leave to play the fooles; 'tis lost all. +Secure yourself he dyes; nor is it wisdom +To go an ace lesse with him: he is monstrous. +--The people hurry now; stand fast, he is comming. + + _Enter Provost, Soldiers & Executioners, with a Coffin & a Gibbett_. + +_Pro_. Make roome before! cleere all theis gaping people +And stop their passage. + +1 _Cap_. How now? What wonder's this? + +_Prov_. Stay! or ile make ye stay: I charge ye stir not. + +2 _Cap_. What thinck you now? dare not theis men do Justice? +This is the body of _Leidenberg_, that killd himself +To free his Cause: his shame has found him yet. + +_Prov_. Up with him, come: set all your hands & heave him! + +_Exec_. A plaguy, heavy Lubber! Sure this fellow +Has a bushell of plot in's belly, he weighes so massy. +Heigh! now againe! he stincks like a hung poll cat. +This rotten treason has a vengeance savour; +This venison wants pepper and salt abhominably. + +_Prov_. Pyn him aloft, and pin him sure. + +_Exec_. I warrant ye; +If ere he run away againe ile swing for him. +This would make a rare signe for a Cookes shop, +The Christmas pie. + [_Exeunt Executioners_. + +_Prov_. Come; now about the rest.--Keepe the Court cleere still. + + [_Exeunt Provost and Soldiers_. + +2 _Cap_. What thinck you now? + +1 _Cap_. Now I am afraid of him. +This prologue should portend a fatall Tragedie: +Theis examples will make 'em shake. + +2 _Cap_. 'Tis well they have 'em; +Their stubbornenes and pride requires 'em greater. +The Prince strikes iust ith' nick and strikes home nobely: +This new pretending faction had fird all els; +They had floong a generall ruyn on the Cuntry. + + _Enter Boyes & Burgers_. + +1 _Boy_. He comes, he comes, he comes! ô for a place now! + +2 _Boy_. Let's climb the Battlements. + +_Cap_. Away with theis rogues. + +1 _Burg_. I saw the Guard goe for him: Where shall we be now? + +2 _Burg_. He will make a notable Speech, I warrant him. + +3 _Burg_. Let's get us neere the Skaffold. + +1 _Cap_. Keep of, Turnops: +Ye come upon our Pikes els. + +1 _Burg_. Pox o' theis Soldiers? +We cannot see our frends hangd in quiet for 'em. +Come, come, to th' top oth' hall. + + [_Exeunt Boys & Burgers_.] + +2 _Cap_. Away, good pilchers![211] +Now blow your matches and stand fast: he comes here. + +1 _Cap_. And now bend all your pikes. + + _Enter Provost, Barnavelt, Lords, Guard. + (A Scaffold put out) Executioner_. + +_Prov_. Cleere all the Skaffold; +Let no more into th'Court; we are choakd with people. + +_Bar_. You are curteous in your preparations, gentlemen, + +1 _Lord_. You must ascend, Sir. + +_Bar_. Feareles I will, my lords, +And, what you can inflict, as feareles suffer. +Thus high you raise me, a most glorious kindnes +For all my Cares! For my most faithfull service +For you and for the State thus ye promote me! +I thanck ye, Cuntrymen, most nobely thanck ye. +--Pull of my Gowne. Of what place are ye, frend? + +_Exec_. Of _Utrich_, Sir. + +_Bar_. Of _Utrich_! Wherefore, prethee, +Art thou appointed here? + +_Exec_. To tell you true, Sir, +I won this place at dyce: we were three appointed. + +_Bar_. Am I becom a generall game? a Rest[212] +For every Slave to pull at? Thanck ye still: +You are growne the noblest in your favours, gentlemen. +--What's that hangs there? what Coffin? + +_Lord_. How it stirrs him. + +2 _Lord_. The body, Sir, of _Leidenberch_[213] the Traitour. + +_Bar_. The traitour? + +2 _Lord_. I, the Traitour, the fowle Traitour, +Who, though he killd himself to cleere his cause, +Justice has found him out and so proclaimd him. + +_Bar_. Have mercy on his soule! I dare behold him. + +1 _Lord_. Beleeve me, he's much moved. + +2 _Lord_. He has much reason. + +_Bar_. Are theis the holly praires ye prepare for me-- +The comforts to a parting soule? Still I thanck ye, +Most hartely and lovingly I thanck ye. +Will not a single death give satisfaction, +O you most greedy men and most ungratefull,-- +The quiet sleep of him you gape to swallow, +But you must trym up death in all his terrors +And add to soules departing frights and feavors? +Hang up a hundred Coffins; I dare view 'em, +And on their heads subscribe a hundred treasons +It shakes not me, thus dare I smile upon 'em +And strongly thus outlooke your fellest Justice. + +2 _Lord_. Will ye bethinck ye, Sir, of what ye come for. + +_Bar_. I come to dye: bethinck you of your Justice +And with what Sword ye strike, the edge of mallice. +Bethinck ye of the travells I had for ye, +The throaes and grones to bring faire peace amongst ye; +Bethinck ye of the dangers I have plundgd through +And almost gripes of death, to make you glorious. +Thinck when the Cuntry, like a Wildernes, +Brought nothing forth but desolation, +Fire, Sword and Famine; when the earth sweatt under ye +Cold dewes of blood, and _Spanish_ flames hoong ore ye, +And every man stood markt the child of murder +And women wanted wombes to feed theis cruelties;-- +Thinck then who stept in to you, gently tooke ye +And bound your bleeding wounds up; from your faces +Wipd of the sweatts of sorrow, fed and nurssd ye; +Who brought the plowgh againe to crowne your plenty; +Your goodly meadowes who protected (Cuntrymen) +From the armd Soldiers furious marches; who +Unbard the Havens that the floating Merchant +Might clap his lynnen wings up to the windes +And back the raging waves to bring you proffit. +Thinck through whose care you are a Nation +And have a name yet left,--a fruitfull Nation +(Would I could say as thanckfull)--bethinck ye of theis things +And then turne back and blush, blush [for] my ruyne. + +1 _Lord_. 'Tis strange how this [man b]rags; 'tis a strange impudence +Not to be pittied in his [case], not sufferd. +You breed the peace, you bring the plowgh againe? +You wipe the fire and blood of from this Cuntry, +And you restore hir to hir former Beuty? +Blush in thine age, bad man; thy grave blush for thee +And scorne to hide that man that holds no Creadit. +Beare witnes all the world that knowes our Trobles +Or ever greiv'd our plagues, what we have sufferd +And, under Heaven, by what armes we have cur'd theis,-- +Councells and frends; in which I tell thee (_Barnavelt_), +And through thy Impudence I here proclaime it, +Thou hadst the least and last share. 'Tis not your face, Sir, +The greatnes of your friends, corruptly purchast, +The Crying up of your manie Services, +Which lookd into wither away like Mushrumps, +Shall scandall us. + +2 _Lord_. Your _Romaine_ end, to make men +Imagine your strong conscience fortifide, +No, nor your ground Religion. Examine all men +Branded with such fowle syns as you now dye for, +And you shall find their first stepp still Religion. +_Gowrie_ in _Scotland_, 'twas his maine pretention: +Was not he honest, too? his Cuntries father? +Those fyery Speritts next that hatchd in _England_ +That bloody Powder-Plot, and thought like meteors +To have flashd their Cuntryes peace out in a Moment: +Were not their Barrells loden with Religion? +Were not they pious, iust and zealous Subiects? +Humble your soule for shame, and seeke not now, Sir, +To tumble from that happines even Angells +Were throwne from for their pride. Confes, and dye well. + +1 _Lord_. Will ye confes your faultes? + +_Bar_. I come not heather +To make myself guilty; yet one fault I must utter, +And 'tis a great one. + +2 _Lord_. The greater mercy. + +_Bar_. I dye for saving this unthanckfull Cuntry. + +1 _Lord_. Play not with heaven. + +_Bar_. My Game's as sure as yours is, +And with more care and inocence I play it. +Take of my doblet; and I prethee, fellow, +Strike without feare. + +_Exec_. I warrant ile fitt ye. +I pray forgive me, Sir. + +_Bar_. Most hartely, +And heer's my hand. I love thee, too: thy physick +Will quickly purge me from the worldes abuses. +When I speak lowdest, strike. + +_Exec_. I shall observe ye. + +_Bar_. Farwell, my lords: to all your Counsailes fortune, +Happie succes and proffit; peace to this Cuntry; +And to you all, that I have bredd like children, +Not a more faithfull father but more fortunate. +Doe not I stay too long? + +2 _Lord_. Take your owne time, Sir. + +_Bar_. I have a wiffe, my lords, and wretched children, +Unles it please his Grace to looke upon 'em +And your good honours with your eies of favour. +'Twill be a litle happines in my death +That they partake not with their fathers ruyns. + +1 _Lord_. Let not that troble ye: they shall not find it. + +_Bar_. Commend my last breath to his Excellence; +Tell him the Sun he shot at is now setting, +Setting this night, that he may rise to morrow, +For ever setting. Now let him raigne alone +And with his rayes give life and light to all men. +May he protect with honour, fight with fortune, +And dye with generall love, an old and good Prince. +My last petition, good Cuntrymen, forget me: +Your memories wound deeper then your mallice, +And I forgive ye all.--A litle stay me.-- +Honour and world I fling ye thus behind me, +And thus a naked poore man kneele to heaven: +Be gracious to me, heare me, strengthen me. +I come, I come, ô gracious heaven! now, now, +Now, I present-- + +_Exec_. Is it well don mine Heeres? + +1 _Lord_. Somewhat too much; you have strooke his fingers, too, +But we forgive your haste. Draw in the body; +And Captaines, we discharge your Companies. + +_Vand_. Make cleere the Court.--Vaine glory, thou art gon! +And thus must all build on Ambition. + +2 _Lord_. Farwell, great hart; full low thy strength now lyes: +He that would purge ambition this way dies. + + _Exeunt_. + + + + + + +INTRODUCTION TO _CAPTAIN UNDERWIT_. + + +This anonymous Comedy is printed, for the first time, from Harl. MS. +7,650,--a small quarto of eighty-nine leaves. I have followed Halliwell +(Dictionary of Old Plays) in adopting the title, Captain _Underwit_. +There is no title-page to the MS. + +An editor with plenty of leisure on his hands would find ample +opportunities in Captain _Underwit_ for discursive comment. Sometimes I +have been obliged to pass over odd phrases and out-of-the-way allusions +without a line of explanation; but in the index at the end of the fourth +volume I hope to settle some difficulties that at present are left +standing. + +The date of the play I take to be circ. 1640 or 1642. In I. 1 there is a +mention of the "league at _Barwick_ and the late expeditions," where the +reference can only be to Charles I.'s march into Scotland in the spring +of 1639, and to the so-called Pacification of _Berwick_. Again, in III. +3, there is an allusion to the Newmarket Cup. Historians of the Turf say +that Newmarket races date from 1640; but this statement is incorrect, +for in Shirley's _Hyde Park_ (V. 1),--a play licensed in 1632 and +printed in 1637,--mention is made of a certain "Bay _Tarrall_ that won +the Cup at Newmarket." We find also an allusion to the "great ship" +(III. 3), which was built in 1637. Of Mr. Adson's "new ayres" (IV. 1) I +know very little. He brought out in 1621 a volume of "Courtly Masquing +Ayres," but published nothing later,--although, of course, he may have +continued writing long afterwards. Hawkins and Mr. Chappell are +altogether silent about Adson's achievements. + +Gerard Langbaine tells us that Shirley left at his death some plays in +manuscript: I have little doubt, or rather no doubt at all, that Captain +_Underwit_ is one of them. In the notes I have pointed out several +parallelisms to passages in Shirley's plays; and occasionally we find +actual repetitions, word for word. But apart from these strong proofs, +it would be plain from internal evidence that the present piece is a +domestic comedy of Shirley's, written in close imitation of Ben Jonson. +All the characters are old acquaintances. Sir Richard Huntlove, who +longs to be among his own tenants and eat his own beef in the country; +his lady, who loves the pleasures of the town, balls in the Strand, and +masques; Device, the fantastic gallant,--these are well-known figures in +Shirley's plays. No other playwright of that day could have given us +such exquisite poetry as we find in Captain _Underwit_. The briskness, +too, and cleverness of the dialogue closely recall Shirley; but it must +be owned that there are few plays of Shirley's written with such +freedom, not to say grossness. + + + + +[CAPTAIN UNDERWIT, A COMEDY.] + + + +_Act the First_. + + + _Enter Captaine Underwit and his man Thomas_. + +_Un_. Come, my man _Thomas_, and my fathers old man _Thomas_; reioyce, +I say, and triumph: thy Master is honourable. + +_Tho_. Then wee are all made. + +_Un_. No, tis only I am made. + +_Tho_. What, and please your worship? + +_Un_. I am made a Captaine of the traind band,[214] _Thomas_, and this +is my Commission, this very paper hath made me a Captaine. + +_Tho_. Are you a paper Captaine, Sir? I thought more had gone to the +makeing up of a Captaine. + +_Un_. They are fooles that thinke so, provided he have the favour of the +Livetenant of the County. + +_Tho_. Which it seemes you have. + +_Un_. The honour of it is more then the thing, _Thomas_, since I did +not bribe the Secretarys steward or what servant else so ever hath the +government of his Lordship therein. + +_Tho_. This is very strange. + +_Un_. Not so much as transitorie wicker bottles to his Deputy +Livetenant, no fewell for his winter, no carriages for his summer, no +steple sugarloaves to sweeten his neighbours at Christmas, no robbing my +brave tennants of their fatt Capons or Chickens to present his worship +withall, _Thomas_. + +_Tho_. I cry your worship mercy, you sold him land the last terme; I had +forgott that. + +_Un_. I, that lay convenient for him. I us'd him like a gentleman and +tooke litle or nothing; 'twere pitty two or three hundred acres of dirt +should make friends fall out: we should have gone to fenceing schools. + +_Tho_. How, sir? + +_Un_. I meane to _Westminster_ hall, and let one another blood in Lawe. + +_Tho_. And so the Land has parted you? + +_Un_. Thou saist right, _Thomas_, it lies betweene both our houses +indeed. But now I am thus dignified (I thinke that's a good word) or +intituled is better, but tis all one; since I am made a Captaine-- + +_Tho_. By your owne desert and vertue. + +_Un_. Thou art deceavd; it is by vertue of the Commission,--the +Commission is enough to make any man an officer without desert; +_Thomas_, I must thinke how to provide mee of warlike accoutrements to +accomodate, which comes of Accomodo[215]: _Shakespeare_. The first, and +the first-- + +_Tho_. No, Sir, it comes of so much money disburs'd. + +_Un_. In troth, and it does, _Thomas_; but take out your table bookes +and remember to bring after me into the Country, for I will goe downe +with my father in law Sir _Richard_ this morning in the Coach,--let me +see--first and formost: a Buff Coate and a paire of breeches. + +_Tho_. First and formost: Item, a Buff Coate fox and a paire of breeches +of the same Cloth. + +_Un_. A paire of bootes and spurres, and a paire of shooes without +spurres. + +_Tho_. Spurres. + +_Un_. A paire of gray stockins, thick dapple gray stockins, with a belt, +to be worne either about my shoulder or about my wast. + +_Tho_. Wast. + +_Un_. A _London Dutch_ felt without a band, with a feather in't. + +_Tho_. Without a feather in't. + +_Un_. An old fox[216] blade made at _Hounsloe_ heath, and then all the +Bookes to be bought of warlike discipline, which the learned call +Tacticks. + +_Tho_. Ticktacks.[217]--If your worship would take my Counsell, +considering the league at _Barwick_[218] and the late expeditions, wee +may find some of these things in the North or else speake with some +reform'd Captaine, though he bee a Catholike; and it may bee wee may +have them at cheaper rates. + +_Un_. 'Tis true, Thomas: but I must change the lynings of the breeches, +for I love to bee cleanly. + +_Tho_. So you may, Sir; and have the fowling of them yourselfe. + +_Un_. Let me see: A leading staff-- + +_Tho_. A leaden staffe-- + +_Un_. A lead'ing staffe. + +_Tho_.--ding staffe. Why, a Cane is a leading staffe in a Captaines +hand. + +_Un_. But I must have tassells, _Thomas_, and such things. + +_Tho_. At the harnesse of the Carthorses there are tassells and Bells, +too, if you will. + +_Un_. Bells? What should I doe with em? + +_Tho_. Ring all your companie in. + +_Un_. Thou would'st make me a Captaine of a Morris dance. What serve the +phifes and Drumms for, prethee? + +_Tho_. But does your worship thinke you shall endure the bouncing of the +Gunns? I observed you ever kept a way of at the Musters. + +_Un_. Thou shalt therefore every morne goe a birding about the house to +inure me to the report. By that tyme thou hast kild all my pigeons I +shall endure the noise well enough. + +_Tho_. But, Sir, you must have a dry Nurse, as many Captaines have. Let +me see: I can hire you an old limping decayed Sergeant at _Brainford_ +that taught the boyes,--he that had his beard sing'd of at the last +Muster: hee'le doe it bravely. + +_Un_. What must he have? + +_Tho_. Alas, twenty pipes[219] of _Barmudas_ a day, six flagons of +March[220] beere, a quart of Sack in a weeke, for he scornes meate; and +the kitching wench to bring the shirt to him and the only band, for +Cuffs he gets none but such as his drunkennes procures him with +quarrelling. + +_Un_. No, I shall be bashfull to learne of a stranger, thou sha't goe +seeke out Captaine _Sackburye_. + +_Tho_. He that weares no money in his scarlett hose, and when he is +drunke is infected with Counsell? + +_Un_. The very same; you shall find him at his Lodging in _Fleetstreet_ +or in the next taverne. Give him this Letter; tell him I desire his +Companie this summer in the Country. He shall have a horse of mine, +say:--here, give him this gold, too. + +_Tho_. I hope it is gameing gold. + +_Un_. He shall read warres to me and fortification. + +_Tho_. I can teach you to build a sconce[221], sir. + +_Un_. Beside, he is very valiant; he beate me twice when he was drunk, +but, poore fellow, I ask'd him forgivenes the next day. Make hast, good +_Thomas_, and remember all the Tacticks. + +_Tho_. I warrant you, Sir: I know 'em well enough. [_Exit_. + +_Un_. So, so; here's Sir _Richard_. + + _Enter Sir Richrd Huntlove, his Ladie and Mistresse Dorothy_. + +_Sir Rich_. Me thinkes you looke more sprightly since you were made a +Captaine. + +_Un_. Oh, good Sir _Richard_, indeed my face is the worst part about mee; +and yet it will serve at the Muster. + +_Do_. Serve! With reverence to the title, I have seene a Generall with a +worse Countenance. It is a good leading face, and though you have no cut +ore the nose or other visible scarre, which I doubt not but you may +receave all in good tyme, it is a quarrelling face and fitt for a man of +warre. + +_Un_. I thanke you, sweet mistress _Dorothy_: I will commend you as much +when you are in the Countrey.--But doe you resolve to goe downe this +morning, Sir? + +_Sir Rich_. By all meanes: is your sister readie? bid the Coachman make +hast, and have a care you leave none of your trinketts behind: after a +little dialogue with my scrivenour Ile returne, and then to Coach. + +_Lady_. But why this expedition, this posting out of towne as the Aire +were infected? + +_Sir Rich_. The[222] truth is, my sweet Ladie, we have no Exchange in +the Country, no playes, no Masques, no Lord Maiors day, no gulls nor +gallifoists[223]. Not so many Ladies to visit and weare out my Coach +wheeles, no dainty Madams in Childbedd to set you a longing when you +come home to lie in with the same fashion'd Curtaines and hangings, such +curious silver Andirons, Cupbord of plate and pictures. You may goe to +Church in the Countrey without a new Satten gowne, and play at penny +gleeke[224] with a Justice of peaces wife and the parsons; show your +white hand with but one Diamond when you carve and not be asham'd to +weare your owne wedding ring with the old poesie. There are no Doctors +to make you sick wife; no legends of lies brought home by yong gallants +that fill my Dyning roome with fleas and new fashions, that will write +verses upon the handle of your fanne and comend the education of your +Monkey, which is so like their worships as they were all of one familie. +I have no humour to provokeing meates; I will downe and enter into a +Christian diett, Madam. There is sport in killing my owne partridge and +pheasant; my Trowtes will cost me less than your Lobsters and crayfish +drest with amber greece[225], and I may renew my acquaintance with +mutton and bold chines of beefe; entertaine my tenants, that would pay +for my housekeeping all the yeere and thanke my worship at Christmas, +over and above their rents, with Turkies and Beeves of supererogation. +You may guesse I have some reason to change the aire, wife, and so I +leave you to prepare your selfe: You have my purpose and may expect mee. + [_Exit_. + +_Lady_. However he may pretend, and point at charge +Which makes his stay unpleasant, 'tis his Jelousie +That strikes him into wildnes and dislike +Of all things here: he does not use mee well. +--Where is my sister? + +_Do_. In the Closet, Madam. +--I must waite upon my Ladie, sweete Captaine. + + [_Exeunt Lady & Dorothy_. + +_Un_. This Wench has a notable witt, if I have any Judgment: I doe not +thinke but shee's in love with me. If I thought shee were not given to +be with child I would examine her abilities; but these waiting women are +so fruitfull, when they have a good turne from a gentleman they have not +the vertue of concealment: touch a Chambermaide and take a Child, +--everything workes with their soluble bodies. + + _Enter Monsir Device_. + +_De_. Noble Mr. _Underwitt_! + +_Un_. I know not whome you meane, sir: he that comands the family in +chiefe, hath been honor'd with a sword and "rise Sir _Richard_" (who is +but my father in lawe[226] to a[nd?] by a former wife): for Mr. +_Underwitt_, whome to salute you humbled your Cloth a gold Dublet, I ken +not the wight. + +_De_. Doe not you know mee, noble Sir? + +_Un_. Upon even tearmes I may call your name to memorie, but if you +understand not my addition[227] it is honourable to forgett the best +friend I have. + +_De_. What's the mistry of this? Your addition? pray honour me to +know it. + +_Un_. He that was Mr. _Underwit_ is made a Captaine; you may, if you +please, take notice of his title. + +_De_. I beg your mercy, noble Captaine, and congratulate your addition +of honour. It was Ignorance which, I professe, made me salute you with a +wrong preface. Now, Capt., I shall bee proud to march under the ensigne +of your favour. + +_Un_. Friend _Device_, how does thy body? I am thy vassall; servant is +for porters, watermen & lacquies, & is no witt neither. You preserve +your tropes and your elegancies? What fancies doe adorne to-day? If I +were a Constable I might apprehend you for suspition you had robd a +pedlar. Does this thatchd cottage head hold still in fashion? What paid +you for this dead mans hair? Where's your night rail[228]? The last time +I saw you was in _Fleetstreet_, when at Complement and bare to an other +gentleman. I tooke him for a Barber and I thought you by the wide lynnen +about your neck [to] have been under correction in the suds[229], sir. + +_De_. Wee are govern'd by the Mode, as waters by the Moone; but there +are more changes in th'one than t'other. But does your Comand extend +to the Sea or the land service? + +_Un_. I never see the Sea in my life, sir, nor intend it. + +_De_. You are not the first Captaine that has seene no service: 'tis +time lost to travell for't when a man may bee a Comander at home. I +never traveld myselfe. + +_Un_. No, Sir? + +_De_. And yet I understand garbes, from the elevation of your pole to +the most humble galosh. + +_Un_. Can your hanches play well in these close cut breeches? they want +but a pummell to distinguish 'em from Trouses[230]. + +_De_. O sir, there is a perfect geometry in these breeches; you doe not +observe the morality of your fancie, nor the gentile play and poize of +your Lemon, Orange or Melon: this is gentry. Why, I understand all the +curiosities of the Mode to a Mathematicall point, and yet I never +travaild in all my life for't. + +_Un_. These are extraordinary parts. Alas, a Captaine has but fifty or a +hundred at most to looke after, and all they have not so much witt as +your _French_ Lacquey. And what need any travaile to instruct them? I +can teach them their motions by word of mouth: when they come to fight, +my Countrymen will retreate naturally. + + _Enter Ladie and her Sister_. + +_Lady_. Now in revenge could I bee rich, but that +I would not be a prisoner to my Chamber. +These superstitions will make women doe +Strange things sometymes. + +_Sis_. Of whome doe you thinke he should be jealous, sister? + +_Lady_. Of Duke _Eneas_ in the hanging. + +_Sis_. I hope he has no suspition of my servants, +That, under the pretence of formall Courtship +To mee, should ayme at his dishonour: there's +One that would weare my livery. + +_Lady_. _Device_? +Hang him, outside! no, my husband loves +His folly and would have him the state foole, +His garbes are so ridiculous. + +_Sis_. What opinion +(Still with a confidence of your cleere thoughts) +Holdes he of the Knight Sir _Francis Courtwell_, +That often visits us? + +_Lady_. Sure a Noble one, +If I may aske my Innocence; yet I find +Him very amorous. O my husband loves him; +He is a powerfull man at Court, whose friendship +Is worth preserving. Sister, I confesse +His nobleness and person hath prevaild +With mee to give him still the freest welcome +My modestie and honor would permitt; +But if I thought my husband had a scruple +His visits were not honourable, I +Should soone declare how much I wish his absence. + +_Un_. Your Mistresse and my Lady; I have some +Affaires require despatch, ile leave you to 'em. [_Exit_. + +_Sis_. My witty servant! + +_Lady_. Most pretious Alamode, Monsir _Device_! + +_De_. I blesse my lipps with your white handes. + +_Lady_. You come to take your leave as knowing by instinct wee have but +halfe an hour to stay. + +_Sis_. Wee are for the Countrey as fast as your _Flanders_ mares will +trott, sir. + +_De_. That's a Solecisme till the Court remove;--are you afraid of the +small pox? + +_Sis_. The less the better for a gentlewoman. + +_De_. And the greater more genty for a Cavallier. By this glove (a +pretty embroidery is't not?) you must not deprive us so soone of your +sweet presence. Why, there's a Ball to night in the _Strand_ and +tomorrow I had a purpose to waite upon you to the pictures; I ha' +bespoke regalias[231] there, too. There will be a new play shortly, +a pretty Comedy written by a profest Scholler: he scornes to take +money[232] for his witt, as the Poetts doe. + +_Lady_. He is Charitable to the Actors. + +_Sis_. It may be their repentance enough to play it. + +_De_. You must needs stay and give your opinion. +What will become of me when you are gon, Ladie? + +_Lady_. If your devotion catch not cold you may breath your _Barbary_ +and visit us, where you may be confident of your welcome. + +_De_. I dare as soone doubt I was Christned. But pray let us visit the +Exchange and take a trifle to weare for my sake before you goe. What +say, Madam? my owne Coach is at dore, the lyning is very rich and the +horses are very well matcht. + +_Lady_. Alas, wee expect upon my husbands returne to take Coach +imediatlie. + +_Sis_. But if wee see you in the Countrey you will doe us an honour? + +_De_. You invite me to my happines. I can play well o' the kittar; I +thinke your musique is but course there; wee'le have a Countrey dance +after supper and a song. I can talke loud to a Theorbo[233], too, and +thats cald singing. Now, yee shall heare my Ballet. + +_Sis_. Did you make a Ballet? + +_De_. Oh I, the greatest wit lies that way now; a pittifull Complaint of +the Ladies when they were banish'd the Towne[234] with their husbands to +their Countrey houses, compeld to change the deere delight of Maske and +Revells here for Wassail and windie bagpipes; instead of Silken Fairies +tripping in the Banquetting Roome, to see the Clownes sell fish in the +hall and ride the wild mare, and such Olimpicks, till the ploughman +breake his Crupper, at which the Villagers and plumporidge men boile +over while the Dairy maid laments the defect of his Chine and he, poore +man, disabled for the trick, endeavours to stifle the noise and company +with perfume of sweat instead of Rose water. + +_Lady_. This must be our Countrey recreation, too! + + _Enter Sir Francis Courtwell_. + +_De_. Who is this? + +_Lady_. 'Tis Sir _Francis Courtwell_; +You cannot choose but know him.--This must bee +A favour, Sir, to visit us at parting. + +_Sir Fr_. I came with other expectation, Madam, +Then to heare this: I could receave no newes +So unwelcome. What misfortune doth conclude +The Towne so unhappie? + +_Lady_. 'Tis my husbands pleasure, +Affrighted with some Dreame he had last night; +For I can guess no other cause. + +_Sir Fr_. Could hee +Bee capable of fright and you so neere him? + +_De_. He cannot choose but know me then.--Sir, I kisse your noble hand +and shall be stellified in your knowledge. + +_Sir Fr_. What thing's this that looks so like a race Nagg trick'd with +ribbands? + +_Sis_. He is one of my inamoratos, Sir; +They call him Mounsir _Device_. + +_Sir Fr_. Lady, your faire excuse.--He has, it seemes, +Some confidence to prevaile upon your liking +That he hath bought so many Bride laces. + +_Sis_. You may interpret him a walking mirth. + +_Sir Fr_. He moves upon some skrues and may be kinsman +To the engine that is drawne about with Cakebread, +But that his outside's brighter. + +_De_. Sir _Francis Courtwell_. + +_Sir Fr_. That's my name, Sir. + +_De_. And myne Mounsieur _Device_. + +_Sir Fr_. A _Frenchman_ Sir? + +_De_. No, sir; an _English_ Monsier made up by a _Scotch_ taylor that +was prentice in _France_. I shall write my greatest ambition satisfied +if you please to lay your Comands upon mee. + +_Sir Fr_. Sweet lady, I beseech you mussell your beagle; I dare not +trust my selfe with his folly, and he may deserve more beating then I am +willing to bestow at this tyme. + +_Sis_. Take truce a little, servant. + +_Sir Fr_. Will you consider, Madam, yet how much +A wounded hart may suffer? + +_Lady_. Still the old businesse; +Indeede you make me blush, but I forgive you +If you will promise to sollicite this +Unwelcome cause no more. + +_Sir Fr_. 'Tis my desire; +I take no pleasure in a pilgrimage. +If you instruct a nearer way, 'tis in +Your will to save your eare the trouble of +My pleading, Madam, if with one soft breath +You say I'me entertain'd; but for one smile +That speakes consent you'le make my life your servant. + +_Lady_. My husband, Sir-- + +_Sir Fr_. Deserves not such a treasure to himselfe +And starve a noble servant. + +_Lady_. You but pleade +For vanitie: desist, for if I could +(Forgetting honour and my modestie) +Allow your wild desires, it were impossible +That wee should meete more then in thought and shadowes. + +_Sir Fr_. If these shadowes, Madam, be but darke enough, +I shall account it happines to meet you. +But referr that to opportunitie, +Which our kind starrs in pitty will sooner offer +To both our ioyes. + +_Lady_. But he is very Jealous. + +_Sir Fr_. That word assures my victorie; I never +Heard any wife accuse her husband of +Or cold neglect or Jealousie, but she had +A confirm'd thought within to trick his forehead-- +It is but Justice, Madam, to reward him +For his suspitious thoughts. + +_Lady_. D'ee thinke it fitt +To punish his suspition yet perswade +To act the sinne he feares? + +_Sir Fr_. Custome and nature make it less offence +In women to comitt the deed of pleasure +Then men to doubt their chastity; this flowing +From poison'd natures, that excus'd by fraielty. +Yet I have heard the way to cure the scare +Has bin the deed; at truth the scruples vanish. +I speake not, Madam, with a thought to suffer +A foule breath whisper your white name; for he +That dares traduce it must beleeve me dead, +Or my fame twisted with your honour must not +Have pitty on the Accusers blood. + +_Device_. I will attend you in the Countrey; +I take my leave and kiss your ivory hand; +Madam, and yours. Sir _Francis_, your obliged. + [_Exit_. + +_Sir Fr_. You bless me with this promise. +--How can you, lady, suffer this impertinent +Afflict you thus? + [_Ex. Lad_. + +_Sis_. Alas, my parrat's dead and he supplies the prattle: ith' spring +and fall he will save me charge of phisick in purgeing Melancholy. + +_Sir Fr_. If you dare +Accept a servant, Ladie, upon my +Comends, I should present a kinsman t'ee +Who sha'not want a fortune nor, I hope, +A meritt to possesse your faire opinion. + +_Sis_. You doe not say he is hansome all this while, and that's a maine +consideration. I wod not have a man so tall as a Mast, that I must clyme +the shroudes to kisse him, nor so much a dwarfe that I must use a +multiplying glass to know the proportion of his limbes. A great man is a +great house with too much garret and his head full of nothing but +lumber: if he be too round agen hees only fitt to be hung upp in a +Christall glasse. The truth is the man I love must please me at first +sight; if he take my eye I may take more tyme to examine his talent. + +_Sir Fr_. Do you but grace him with accesse and aske your owne fancie, +Ladie, how you can affect him. Ile not despaire if he were cur'd of +modesty, which is the whole fault in his behaviour; but he may passe +without contempt. + +_Do_. That modestie is a foule fault. + + _Enter Captaine Underwitt_. + +_Un_. Come away, Cosen; Sir _Richard's_ come and calls for you; the +Coachman is ready to mount. Noble Sir _Richard_, because you may not +loose breath, you may call me a Captaine, please you, a Captaine o' the +train'd band. + +_Sis_. 'Tis very certaine. + +_Sir Fr_. I congratulate your title, Sir. + +_Un_. If you come into the Countrey you shall see me doe as much with my +leading staff as another. + +_Sir Fr_. You wonot thrash your men? + +_Un_. If I did 'tis not the first time I ha thrash'd. If I find my +Souldiers tractable they shall find me but a reasonable Captaine. + + _Enter Sir Richard [and] Lady_. + +_Sir Rich_. Sir _Francis_, I am sorrie the violence of my affaires wonot +let me entertaine you to my wishes. Pray honour us with your presence in +the Countrey, if you can dispence with your employments, when I shall +satisfie for this haste of my departure. + +_Sir Fr_. I shall attend you, Sir, and present a kinsman of mine to this +virgin Ladie: he is like to be Master of no narrow fortune. It was my +busines at this tyme only to prepare his accesse. + +_Sir Rich_. He shall have my vote for your sake, Sir _Francis_. Come, +Madam. + +_Sir Fr_. Ile waite upon you to the Coach and take my leave. + +_Un_. Sweet Mistresse _Doritye_. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + + +_Act the Second_. + + + _Enter Captaine Sackburie, reading a Letter, and Thomas_. + +_Capt_. Hum--hum--Where's the gold? + +_Tho_. Here, Sir; one, two, three, fowre, and five. + +_Cap_. Thou hast learnd the Cinque pace[235], _Tho_: is the gold weight? + +_Tho_. I hope so, Sir. + +_Cap_. Hum--into the Country;--thou hast a horse, too? + +_Tho_. Not about me, Sir, but he is ready, all but brideling and +sadling, at our Inne, Captaine. My master sayes you shalbe troubled with +no horse but his. + +_Cap_. Why, is he lame? + +_Tho_. What? _Truehunt_, the black nag with three white feete? he lame? +You meane that I ride upon my selfe. + +_Cap_. Hum,--'make hast as you will preserve the reputation of your true +friend and servant:'--so, so--Comend me to him, _Thomas_; I wonot faile +to visit him. + +_Tho_. You may demand the Nag, if you ask for _Humfrey_ the Ostler, by +the same token he has bin there this foure dayes and had but one peck of +provender. + +_Cap_. Enough I wonot faile, I say. Farewell, honest _Tom a +Lincolne_, farewell: comend me to the traind band. + +_Tho_. Pray doe not fall a drinking and forgett it: bu'oy[236], noble +Captaine. + [_Exit_. + + _Enter Mr. Courtwell_. + +_Cap_. My expectation of the Lawz well mett! + +_Cou_. I am glad to see you, Captaine. + +_Cap_. Is thy sight perfect? +Thy poring upon statutes and booke cases +Makes me suspecte. But dost thou thinke to bee +A Dominus factotum on the Bench, +And be a Civill Lawyer? + +_Cou_. You are merry. + +_Cap_. Tis more then thou hast been this twelvemonth: th'ast +Lost thy Complexion with too much study. +Why, thou shalt be an heire and rule the rost +Of halfe a shire, and thy father would but Dye once; +Come to the Sizes with a band of Janisaries +To equall the Grand Signor, all thy tenants, +That shall at their owne charge make themselves fine +And march like Cavaliers with tilting feathers, +Gaudy as _Agamemnons_[237] in the play: +After whome thou, like _St. George_ a horseback +Or the high Sheriff, shall make the Cuntrey people +Fall downe in adoration of thy Crooper +And silver stirrup, my right worshipfull. +A pox a buckram and the baggage in't! +Papers defil'd with Court hand and long dashes, +Or Secretarie lines that stradle more +Then _Frenchmen_ and lesse wholsome to the Client. +Is thy head to be fild with Proclamations, +Rejoynders and hard words beyond the _Alchemist_[238]? +Be ruld, and live like a fine gentleman +That may have haukes and hounds and whores and horses, +And then thou art fitt Companie. + +_Cou_. You talke wildlie; +I wou'd you saw your Errour that place all +Your happinesse upon such course delights. +I should degenerate too much and forfet +My education. + +_Cap_. Education! he has gott a tune: +I doe not thinke but thou wilt leave thy law +And exercise thy talent in composeing +Some treatises against long haire and drinking +That most unchristian weed yclipt tobacco; +Preach to the puisnes[239] of the Inne sobrietie, +And abstinence from shaveing of lewd Baylies +That will come shortlie to your Chamber doores +And there with reverence entreat your worships +Come forth and be arrested,--precious tappoles! +I wo'd not willingly despaire of thee, +For thy Lands sake and cause I am thy Countreyman. +One generous Vagarie, and thou wer't wise, +Would breake somebodies hart within a sennight, +And then th'art Lord of all. Have but the grace +To dine wo' mee at taverne and ile tell +Thy friends there is some hope. + +_Cou_. My friends? + +_Cap_. Thy father's +In _Essex_: if he live heele purchase _Romford_; +If he die sooner then the towne's our owne; +Spend but an acre a day and thou maist live +Till all the world be wearie of thee. Betweene +Us two, what thincke you of a wench? + +_Cou_. Nothing. + +_Cap_. You meane one wench betweene us two is nothing. +I know a hundred Leverets[240], things that will +Bound like a dancer on the rope and kiss thee +Into thy naturall complexion: +A sinner that shall clime thee like a squirrell. + +_Cou_. And crack me like a Nutt. I ha no kernell +To spare for her sweet tooth. + +_Cap_. That was a metaphor: hee's not desperate! + +_Cou_. Buoy, my deere Captaine. + +_Cap_. Wy, farewell, Countreyman: +I may live yet to witnes thy conversion. [_Exit_. + + _Enter a Footeman_. + +_Cou_. How does my uncle? + +_Fo_. He desires presentlie +To speake with you at his lodging. + +_Cou_. Ile attend him. + + [_Exit_. + + + +[SCENE 2.] + + + _Enter Captaine Underwit and Thomas_. + +_Un_. And hast thou been carefull of all those things I gave charge +to be provided? + +_Tho_. There is a note of the particulars. + +_Un_. Tis very well done, _Thomas_.--Let me see: Imprimis-- + +_Tho_. The Captaine wonot faile to be w'ee, sir. He was not at his +lodging; and inquiring at the _Horne_ tavern, I heard he had been there +with two or three Cittizens that ow'd him mony. + +_Un_. That he owde mony to. + +_Tho_. Tis all one, I thinke, Sir; for when Captaines have not pay, the +creditors may pay themselves. Here they said he did mollifie the hart of +the haberdashers and dranke himselfe a little mellowe ere they parted, +which gave me some hope I might find him ere night at the _Divell_, +where indeed I fetcht him out of the fire and gave him your Letter. + +_Un_. And the gold too? + +_Tho_. That was the first word he read; if you did not write it in text +he could not have found it out so soone. His eye was no sooner in the +inside but his arme flew out with an open mouth and his very fingers +cryed "give me the gold"! which presumeing to be weight he put in his +hocas pocas, a little dormer under his right skirt; and so takeing his +word to come downe and turning over your horse to him, with caution not +to be drunk and forgett your worship, I tooke my leave and went about +my Inventorie. + +_Un_. Theis things are very right, _Thomas_. Let me see now the bookes +of Martiall discipline. + +_Tho_. I bought up all that I found have relation to warr and fighting. + +_Un_. That was weldone.--Item: _The Sword Salve_. + +_Tho_. This I conceiv'd to have the vertue of _Achilles_ speare: if you +bee hurt you need goe no further then the blade for a Surgeon. + +_Un_. The _Buckler of Faith_. + +_Tho_. You had the sword before, Sir. + +_Un_. A _Booke of Mortification_. + +_Tho_. I, Sir, that is a kind of killing which I thought very necessary +for a Captaine. + +_Un_. Item: the _Gunpowder Treason_ and the _Booke of Cannons_. + +_Tho_. I wod not lett any shott scape mee. + +_Un_. _Shakespeares_ Workes.--Why _Shakespeares_ Workes? + +_Tho_. I had nothing for the pikemen before. + +_Un_. They are plays. + +_Tho_. Are not all your musterings in the Countrey so, Sir? Pray, +read on. + +_Un_. _Bellarmines Controversie_ in six tomes. + +_Tho_. That I took upon the Stationers word, who had been a pretty +Schollar at Paules; for the word _Bellarmine_, he said, did comprehend +warr, weapons and words of defiance. Ill words provoke men to draw their +sword, and fighting makes an end of the busines; and all this is +controversy. Pray, goe on, Sir. + +_Un_. Two paire of Tables.--Tables for what? + +_Tho_. Oh, sir, for ticktack. You know it was in my note, which though I +doubted at first, yet considering you were newly made a Cap: I conceiv'd +it was fitt you should learne to sett and or[d]er your men. + +_Un_. Tacticks, man: thou didst mistake, they are bookes of warre. + +_Tho_. You cannot know these from bookes as they are painted, +I warrant you. + +_Un_. Why, dost thou thinke theis will make a Souldier? + +_Tho_. Not of themselves, Sir, and therefore I provided: please you +read on, Sir. + +_Un_. _Parsons Resolutions_ and _Felthams Resolves_[241]. + +_Tho_. All is nothing I knew, Sir, without resolution. + +_Un_. Summa totalis three and twenty poundes nyneteene shillings and +sevenpence.--Thou hast undone mee. + +_Tho_. If you doe not like the pennyworths tis but the charges of my +selfe and a horse agen to _London_. I will lose but the three odd pounds +19s and 7d: it may be you doe not understand these Authors: when the +Captaine comes he will expound 'em to you. + +_Un_. What a Coxcombe have I to my man! but I dare not be angry with +him. Well, carry 'em into my study, _Thomas_. + + [_Ext. Tho_. + + _Enter Device_. + +_De_. Most honor'd Captaine. + +_Un_. My compleat Monsier _Device_, this is a grace to us. You come to +visit your Mistres my Cosen. As if by instinct she had knowledge of your + [_Enter Ladie and Sister, & Dorothy_. +approach, she is come to meet you.--Shall I never get opportunitie with +that shee waiter! If I gett her with Child my man _Thomas_ shall marry +her. + + _Enter Thomas_. + +_Tho_. Sir, the Captaine is new alighted. + +_Un_. Gett a bottle of sack up to my Chamber presently. + + [_Ext. [Underwit & Thomas_. + +_La_. You are a gentleman of your word. + +_Sis_. And such a gentleman is to be trusted, Madam. + +_De_. He is an Infidell that will breake his word with a Ladie. + +_Sis_. I suspect, servant, you have many Mistresses. + +_De_. Not I, by this white hand. I must acknowledge there are some +Ladies in the Court in whose eyes and opinion I am favour'd. I cannot +obscure my selfe from their observation; but my heart with contempt of +all other endeerement is only devoted to your service. + +_Sis_. Is't not a charge to dresse your selfe with such variety of +Ribbands every day? + +_De_. Is that your scruple? Tis the Mode to express our fancie upon +every occasion; to shew the turne and present state of our hope or +feares in our Affection. Your colours to an understanding Lover carry +the interpretation of the hart as plainely as wee express our meaning +one to another in Characters. Shall I decipher my Colours to you now? +Here is Azure and Peach: Azure is constant, and Peach is love; which +signifies my constant Affection. + +_Sis_. This is very pretty. + +_De_. Oh, it saves the trouble of writing, where the Mistres and Servant +are learned in this amorous blazon. Yesterday I wore Folimort, Grisdelin +and Isabella: Folimort is withered, Grisdelin is absent, and Isabella is +beauty, which put together express I did wither or languish for your +absent beautie. + +_Sis_. But is there any reason for theis distinctions? + +_De_. Yes, Lady: for example, your Follimort is a withred leafe, which +doth moralise a decay: your yellow is joy, because-- + +_La_. Why, yellow, Sir, is Jealous. + +_De_. No, your Lemon colour, a pale kind of yellow, is Jealous; your +yellow is perfect joy. Your white is Death, your milke white inocence, +your black mourning, your orange spitefull, your flesh colour +lascivious, your maides blush envied, your red is defiance, your gold is +avaritious, your straw plenty, your greene hope, your sea greene +inconstant, your violet religious, your willow forsaken. + +_Sis_. We may then comitt a solecisme and be strangely interpreted by +such curious expounders in the rash election and wearing of our colours, +I p[er]ceave. + +_La_. Tis pitty but there should be some bookes for our instruction in +this art. + +_De_. Your Hierogliphick was the _Egiptian_ wisdome, your _Hebrew_ was +the Cabala, your _Roman_ had your Simball or impresse; but they are now +obsolete, your embleme trite and conspicuous, your invention of +Character and Alphabeticall key tedious and not delightfull, your motto +or rebus too open and demonstrative: but the science and curiosity of +your Colours in Ribbands is not only instructive but an ornament and the +nearest Comentator of Love; for as Love is entertain'd first by the eye, +or, to speake more plaine, as the object affected is tooke in first by +these opticks which receive the species of the thing colord & +beautifide, so it is answerable to nature that in the progresse of our +passion we should distinguish by our eye the change or constancy of our +affections in apt and significant colours. + +_Sis. _You have tooke paines to study this learn'd heraldry. + +_De_. It is the onely gentile knowledge or philosophie in the world. I +will undertake to open any man or womans hart. + +_La_. Heaven forbid! + +_De_. Tell the most secret imaginations and designes conclude every +passion and scruple, if they be carefull to observe the artificiall +method of their colours. + +_Sis_. Why, this may be a way of fortune telling too. + +_De_. You say right, Lady: phisiognomy and chiromancy are but trifles; +nay, your geomancie meere coniecturall, the execution of your schemes +circumstantiall and fallible, but your quaint alamode weare of your +fancie more then astrologicall. + +_La_. Tis a kind of Divinitie. + +_De_. You say very true, Madam, and comes neere to propheticall if the +minds of Ladies and gentlemen were elevated to the just and sublime +consideration. + +_Sis_. What paines he takes to be ridiculous! + +_Do_. This gentleman has a notable fancie and talkes poetically. + +_Sis_. Yes, yes; he can write verses. + +_Do_. Well, I have read Authors in my dayes and knew the length of the +poets in my tyme too, which was an hexameter and which a pentameter, but +the wits are not as they have been--right and straite. + +_Sis_. Why, _Doroty_? + +_Do_. Why, because wind is the cause of many things; now if the wind bee +not in the right corner tis the ill wind our proverbe speakes of that +blowes nobodie good; for when vapors and wind flie into the head it +cannot be in two places at one time: and that's the reason your men of +most wit doe seldome love a woman.--But here comes my Master and Sir +_Francis_. + + _Enter Sir Richard and Sir Francis, and Mr. Courtwell_. + +_Ri_. This is a double honour to us, _Sir Francis_. I shall want +language, but not a friendly hart to entertaine you and your noble +kinsman. What my exquisite Cavalier _Device_!--tis to no purpose I see +to remove into the Countrey to save charges and be quiet; the whole +Citty will come hither if I stay. I have no stomack to my kn't. + +_Fra_. I hope, madam, you will be no enemy to my kinsman. + +_Ri_. Sister, I present this gentleman; observe and cherish him; he has +been i'th Universitie. + +_Sis_. Any degree, Sir? + +_Co_. Onely Bachelour, forsooth! + +_Ri_. If he winne you to marriage, Lady quicksilver-- + +_Sis_. He wilbe Master of his Art. + +_Ri_. My vote is for him. + +_De_.--I like not the induction of this rivall. + +_Ri_. He studies now the law, +And thats the high way to preferment, Sister. + +_Sis_. Indeed it is the high way in which some +Deliver up their purses. He may clime +To scarlet, but that he has too good a face. + +_De_. Sir, I hope-- + +_Ri_. Troth, do not, Sir,--I meane, trouble yourselfe: +He is too bashfull to prevaile upon +Your spirited mistres! + + _Enter Mr. Engine_. + +_En_. Sir _Richard_. + +_Ri_. More customers? Mr. _Engine_, welcome; +Your presence was unexpected in the Countrey. + +_En_. Twas my ambition with some intents +To serve you, sir. Please you vouchsafe your privacie, +I bring Affaires are worth your entertainement: +I have rid hard. + +_Cou_. What Cavallier's this, Uncle? + +_Fra_. He is the inventor of new proiects, cosen, +They say, and patents; one that lives like a moth +Upon the Common wealth. + +_Cou_. He lookes like one. + +_Ric_. You will excuse me, gentlemen.--Make much of Sir _Francis_, Madam. + + _Ext. [Sir Richard and Engine_. + +_Fra_. Weele leave my Nephew and your sister, Madam, +And take a turne i'th garden. + +_Sis_. You may be confident. + + [_Exeunt Sir Francis, Lady, and Dorothy_. + +_De_.--I doe not like the fancie in his hat; +That gules is warre and will be ominous. + + _Ext. [Device_. + +_Sis_. The gentleman's turnd statue! blesse me how +He staires upon me and takes roote, I thinke. +It mooves, and now to earth is fixt agen; +Oh, now it walkes and sadly marches this way. +Is't not a ghost? heele fright me. Oh, sweet sir, +Speake if you can and say who murderd you. +It points at me: my eyes? ungentle eyes +To kill so at first sight! Ile have my lookes +Arraigned for't and small _Cupid_ shall be judg, +Who for your sake will make me blind as he is. + +_Co_. Ladie-- + +_Sis_. The man's alive agen and has +A tongue! discretion guide it; he but sent +His soule forth of an arrand; tis returnd, +Now wee shall have some sentences. + +_Co_. Such are the strange varieties in love, +Such heates, such desperate coldes,-- + +_Sis_. No more winter, and you love me, unlesse you can command the +colepits; we have had a hard tyme on't already for want of fuell. + +_Co_. I'me all turnd eares and, Lady, long to heare you, +But pressing to you doubt I am too neare you. +Then I would speake, but cannot; nought affordes +Expression, th'Alphabet's too poore for wordes: +He that knowes Love knowes well that every hower +Love's glad, Love's sad, Love's sweet-- + +_Sis_. And sometymes sower. Theis wordes would goe well to a tune; pray +letts heare you sing. I doe not thinke but you can make me a ioynture of +fower nobles a yeare in Balletts, in lamentable balletts; for your wit I +thinke lies tragicall. Did you make the _Ladies Downefall_[242]. +You expresse a passion rarely, but pray leave +Your couplets and say something in blanck verse +Before you goe. + +_Co_. Before I goe? breath not that killing language: +There is no sunne but in your eyes, and when +I once take leave of those celestiall beames +I meet with darkenes in my habitation; +Where stretch'd on sable ground I downe shall lay +My mournefull body, and with folded Armes +Heare sadder noats uppon the _Irish_ harpe[243] +And drop division with my brinish teares.[244] + +_Sis_. This must be lamentable musick sure! + +_Co_. But I have found an art to cure this wound, +For I with fancies pencill will so draw +Your picture in the table of my hart, +Your absence shall but like darke shadowes stand +To sett you of and see you, Lady, better +Then Love will lett me when I looke upon you. + +_Sis_. Could this be true and meant, sweet sir, to me, +I should be kinder then the gentlest spring +That warms the world and makes fierce beasts so tame +And trees to swell themselves to cheerefull greene; +More jocund then the proudest quire of birds, +What ere they be that in the woods so wide +Doe sing their merry catches.--Sure he does +But counterfeit. + +_Co_. Oh, now I see that Love +Is sweet as flowers in their fragrant birth, +Gentle as silke, and kind as Cloudes to Earth? + +_Sis_. One rime more and you undoe my love for ever. Out upon't! pedlars +_French_[245] is a Christian language to this. I had rather you should +put me a case out of _Litleton_. They say you are a pretty Lawyer. + +_Co_. Tenant[246] per la Curtesie d'Engleterre est, hon home prent feme +seisie in fee simple ou en fee taile generall, ou seisie come +heire de la taile speciall et ad issue per mesme la fame, male ou +female, oies ou wife, soit lissue apres mort ou en vie si la feme de +aie, la baron tiendra la terre durant sa vie, per la ley dengleterre. + +_Sis_. Nay, here's enough a Conscience! What a Noise this confusion of +languages make; tis almost as good as a beare baiting. Harke you, Sir, +you are never like to recover me by law. + +_Co_. You are not the first sweet Ladie has been overthrowne at +Common Lawe. + +_Sis_. Not by tenn thousand, Sir. Confest: but I have no mind to come to +issue with a Lawyer; when he should consider my cause at home, heele be +at _Westminster_, teaching men the Statutes. No, no, I wo'not marry a +Judge. + +_Co_. Why, Lady? + +_Sis_. They are casuall things and men that hold such strange opinions. + +_Co_. Lady, you may be misinform'd: _Astraea_ +Hath not quite left the earth, and the abuses +Of some which shame the calling are but like +Patches of beauty on the shape of lawe +To set the whitenes of. + +_Sis_. Farewell, Sir: +You are in love with a barrd gown, not beauty; +If you will be my learned Counsell, leave it +--This yong thing is a foole or a fine fellow. [_Exit_. + +_Co_. She kicks and flings out like a Colt unwayed; +Her witt's a better portion then her money; +I would not love her yet, and I could help it.-- +My Uncle and his Mistres: Ile not hinder em. + + [_Ex_. + + + +[SCENE 3.] + + + _Enter Sir Francis and Ladie_. + +_La_. It is no honour, Sir, if arm'd with so +Much eloquence you overcome a woman. +I blush to say I love you now too much; +I wish you would release what your sweet charmes +Won from my tongue; I shall repent my promise. + +_Fra_. Make me not miserable after so much blessing. +Why, Madam, tis on honourable tearmes, +Since not upon the first attempt but after +A tedious seige in to your faire love you give up +What shall enrich us both. It were a sinne +To feare you can retract what both our lipps +Have seal'd, and loose a happines so neare +And so secure. Your husband holds his pleasure +Of early hunting constant, and when he +Pursues the tymerous hare to morrow morne, +_Cupid_ will waite to bring me to _Elizium_, +Your bed, where every kisse shall new create us. + +_La_. You must be wise in your excuse, to quit +His importunitie. + +_Fra_. Leave that to me: +I weare not worth the name of him that serv'd you +To loose my glorious hope for want of such +A thinne device. In your thought wish me prosper, +And I am fortifide against the power +Of fate to seperate us; and when thou art +Within the amorous circle of my armes, +We will make lawes to love; teach him new motion +Or chaine[247] him with the cordage of his haire, +Like a tame thing, to walke, and watch our pillow +And be our pleasures Centinell. + +_La_. I see +My husband; tis not safe he should observe us: +Be wise and constant. [_Exit Lady_. + +_Fra_. All that's sweet attend thee. +So I am sailing now to my owne _Indies_, +And see the happie Coast, too: How my wings +Doe spread to catch the wind which comes to court 'em, +And the green Sea, enamour'd on my barke, +Doth leap to see how _Cupid_ sitts at helme. +And steeres my soule to his new world. + + _Enter Sir Richard and Engine_. + +_Ri_. A monopolie say you +For Perriwigs? + +_En_. Is't not a rare designe? and by such art +And reasons I can name, most beneficiall +To the common wealth, preventing the diseases +Which some unwholsome haire breeds in mens heads, +It will be worth our agitation, Sir; +And you, after the rate of every thousand +Per Annum milk'd out of the comon purse +Into your owne, may easily defaulke +To me a hundred for my first projection. +Did I not love you, Sir, I could make choice +Of other able men that would be glad +To multiplie their money. + +_Ri_. Sir, I thanke you, +But have no mind to thrive upon abuse of +My princes favour nor the peoples curse. +Here is a gentleman, Sir _Francis Courtwell_, +Perhapps will undertake it. + +_Fra_. What, Sir _Richard_? + +_Ri_. A Monopolie for composeing and selling of perriwiggs. + +_Fra_. Excuse me, Sir, I dare not deale in 'em. +If I be not mistaken, Sir, your name +Is _Engine_? + +_En_. Yes, Sir. + +_Fra_. The proiector generall? +If I may advise you, Sir, you should make your will, +Take some convenient phisick and dye tymely +To save your credit, and an execution: +It is thought else-- + +_En_. Oh-- + +_Fra_. What aile you, Sir? + +_En_. A Megrim in my head. + +_Ri_. Whoes there? + + _Enter Thomas_. + +Looke to Mr. _Engine_ heere, he faints, and send +To your Ladie for some Cordiall waters presently. + +_Tho_. There is a Soveraigne Well hard by has done +Strange cures: please you, ile throw him into that. + _Ext. [Thomas; carrying away Engine_. + +_Ri_. Though I distast his busines I wod not +He should miscarry here; you frighted him. +But come, I thinke tis supper tyme, Sir _Francis_. +I shall expect youle hunt with me i'th morning; +I have a pack of Doggs sent me will make +The Forrest ring. + +_Fra_. Ile cheerefully attend you, +I love the sport; as earlie as you please, Sir. + +_Ri_. I wish wee had all pleasures to delight you, +But no thing wants in my true love to serve you. + +_Fra_.--Yet I must cuckold him; I cannot helpe it. + + + + +_Act the Third_. + + + _Enter Thomas with Sir Richards bootes_. + +_Tho_. Sir. + +_Within Ri_. Whoes that? _Thomas_? + +_Tho_. The sun is up before you. Here be your bootes. + +_Ri_. That's well. + +_Within La_. I preethe donot rise yet; it is hardly day. Sirra, who bid +you call him so earlie? Sir _Richard_ wonot rise yet. + +_Tho_. I cannot helpe it, it is none of my fault. + +_La_. Wheres _Doroty_? + + [_Enter Doroty_. + +_Do_. Here, Madam; what make you up so soone, _Thomas_? + +_Tho_. O Mistres _Dority_, tis e'ne long of you, for betweene sleepe +and awake your remembrance came to me this morning, and _Thomas_ was +up presently. + + _Enter Sir Richard [& Lady]_. + +_Ri_. You must excuse me, wife; +I meane to kill a brace of hares before +You thinke tis day. Come, on with my Bootes, _Thomas_; +And _Dorothy_ goe you to Sir _Francis_ Chamber, +Tell him the Day growes old and I am readie, +Our horses and the merry hounds expect us. + +_La_. Any excuse to leave me. + +_Ri_. You may take +Your ease a bed still, Madam. Ile not loose +One morning that invites so pleasantly, +To heare my Doggs, for a new Maidenhead, I. +Twas for these sports and my excess of charge +I left the towne: besides the Citty foggs +And steame of Brick hills almost stifled me; +This Aire is pure and all my owne. + +_Tho_. My Ladie +Meanes shee would have you gett another heire, +Sir, for your lands; though it be against my Master +The young Captaine, yet she speakes but reason. +And now I talke o'th Captaine, Sir, +Would you had given him Counsell. + +_Ri_. To what? + +_Tho_. Before he tooke this huffing[248] trade upon him, +To have been a man of peace, I meane a Justice. +Nature has made him fit for both alike. +Hee's now at charge to keepe a Captaine Schoolemaster; +He might have sav'd the qua[r]teridge of his Tutor +If I had been his Clarke: and then the income +That broken heads bring in, and new yeares guifts +From soder'd virgins and their shee provintialls +Whose warren must be licenc'd from our office! + +_Ri_. Away you prating knave.-- + + [_Enter Dorothy_. + +What? is he readie? + +_Do_. Alas, hee's almost dead. + +_Ri_. How? dead? + +_Do_. He has been troubled with a fitt o'th stone, +Sir, all this night. Sweet gentleman he groanes, +And sweates, and cannot-- + +_Ri_. What? + +_Do_. Make urine, Sir. + +_Tho_. I heard my Ladie has an excellent +Receit to cure the Stone; she is a peece +Of a rare Surgeon. + +_Ri_. Well, away and get the horses readie, sirra, +For I shall ride you and your witt together. + +_Tho_. Alas, any foole may ride me, but I would +faine see any man ride Mistres _Dorothy_. + +_Do_. How, sirra? + [_Exit Thomas_. + +_Ri_. I am sorry I must leave such a Companion. +But more lament the cause. I wish him health; +My presence cannot serve him. Morrow, wife: +I cannot lose my sport. [_Exit_. + +_Do_. Nor shee when you are gone. +My Lady does expect another hunt's up. + +_La_. Now I must trust thy secresie. + +_Do_. You shall not doubt me, Madam, and t'assure you +My faith, I have a suit to your Ladiship +Whose grant, were there no other bonds upon me, +Would tye me everlastinglie to silence. + +_La_. What ist? but name, and I shall soone confirme thee. + +_Do_. Our Captaine o'th traind band has been offring +To chaffer Maidenheads with me. I must +Confesse I can affect the foole upon +Good tearmes, and could devise a plott to noose +My amorous woodcock, if you privatlie +Assist me and dare trust me with some Jewell +Of price, that is not knowne, which shalbe faithfully +Restor'd Madam. + +_La_. I that dare trust my honour with thee sha'not +Suspect thy faith in any treasure else. +But prethe draw the Curtains close, while I +Expect this friend: I needes must hide my blushes. +Thou maist discover from the Gallory windowe +When they are hors'd. I tremble to consider +What I have promis'd. + +_Do_. Tremble to meet a Ghost! +You are more fearefull then a Virgin, Madam. +Why this setts me a longing; but ile watch: +This is the timerous world of flesh and blood. + [_Exit_. + + _Enter Sir Richard_. + +_La. within_. Alas! +What doe you meane? retire for heavens sake! +My husband is not gone, I heare his voice yet; +This rashnes will undoe my fame for ever +Should he returne. + +_Ri_. How's this? +"Returne for heavens sake! my husband is not gone: +I heard his voice; this will undoe my fame!" +It was my wife, and this is sure my bed chamber. + +_La_. (_looking forth_.) I have undone my selfe; it is my husband. + +_Ri_. My forehead sweats: Where are you, Madam? +Whome did you talke too or take me for? ha! Asleepe +Alreadie, or doe I dreame? I am all wonder. +Madam,-- + +_La_. You may kill him and please you, sweet heart; +I cannot abide a Blackamore. + +_Ri_. How's this, wife? + +_La_. Helpe, helpe, deare husband, strangle him with one +Of my Lute strings; doe, doe, doe. + +_Ri_. If shee be a sleepe she was not us'd to talke thus: +She has some hideous dreame. She spake to me, to; +Whom should I strangle, sweet hart, with a lute string? + +_La_. The King of _Morocco_, I thinke. + +_Ri_. Tis so, she dreames. What strange Chimeras wee +Doe fancie in our sleepe! I were best wake her. +Madam, Madam! + +_La_. O Murder, Murder! + +_Ri_. Sweet heart, Madam, wake! + +_La_. Whoes that? + +_Ri_. Tis I. + +_La_. Sir _Richard_? Oh you have delivered me +From such a dreame I quake to thinke upon't. + +_Ri_. I must confesse you frighted me at first. + + _Enter Dorothy_. + +_Do_.--My Master come back? if he had found the [sic] Sir _Francis_ here! + +_Ri_. How now? art thou frighted too? + +_Do_. Frighted, quoth a! Oh, Madam, the key of the Closet quickly. I +must have some Cordiall water for Sir _Francis_; I feare this fitt will +kill him. + +_La_. Alas, good gentleman! make hast. + +_Do_.--His appearance would betray all: I thus prevent it. + +_La_. Nay, sweet hart, you sha'not leave me till I ha told +What a cruell Dreame I had. Methought a king +Of Blackamores was in love with me, and haveing +By flattering Courtship drawne me to his bed chamber, +With my consent or force swore to enjoy mee. +I knew not by what reasons to divert +The Ravisher, but told him that I heard +Thy voice, and bid him if he lov'd his life +Retire, for thou wouldst deere revenge my honour. +But he pursueing me, I cry'd out Murder! +At which sad noise methought I saw thee enter, +But, having nere a sword, I counselld thee +To strangle him with a Lute string, for which cruelty +Of mine, me thought he threw an Arrow at me, +Which, if thou hadst not wak'd me as thou didst, +Would as I slept with my strong feares ha killd me. + +_Ri_. This was the King of _Morocco_: well, I'me glad +I came to take away thy fright. + +_La_. But, sweet, you left me with a resolution +To hunt this morning. Have you done already? + +_Ri_. The theeves prevented me. +My Stable has been rob'd to night; two geldings +And my roane Nagg are vanished. + +_La_. How? + +_Ri_. Nay, doe not thou vexe: +I have sent hue and cry that may oretake 'em. +But come, Ile leave thee to my glasse, +And visit Sir _Francis_ now shees return'd.-- + + [_Enter Dorothy_. + +How does our Noble guest? + +_Do_. Hees pretty well: he has voided one stone since +And now finds ease. + +_Ri_. Tis well: attend your Mistres. [_Exit_. + +_La_. O, wench, I had almost undone my selfe, +Come o'tother side, reach me that peticote; +Ile tell the storie as I make me ready. + + _Ex[eun]t_. + + + +[SCENE 2.] + + + _Enter Device, Sister_. + +_Sis_. Ist possible you can talke thus and be no travailer? + +_De_. I have traveld in my fancie, Ladie, and with the Muses, and do for +my recreation of witt compose some wonders in verse, poeticall essaies, +as once upon the report of a heate that was in _Egipt_. + +_Sis_. Lets heare 'em. + +_De_. _In Countreys I have been +Under the Equinoctiall, where I have seene +The Sunne disperse such a prodigious heat +That made our sive-like skins to raine with sweat. +Men would have given for an Ecclipse their lives, +Or one whisper of Aire; yet each man strives +To throw up grasse, feathers, nay women, too, +To find the wind: all falls like lead, none blew. +The Dogstarre spits new fire till't came to passe +Each eye became his neighbours burning glasse. +Leane men did burne to ashes presentlie, +Fatt men did wast to leane Anatomye; +Young womens heat did gett themselves with child, +For none but they themselves themselves defild; +Old women naturally to witches turne, +And onely rubbing one another burne. +The beasts were bak'd, skin turnd to crust, they say, +And fishes in the River boild away. +Birds in the aire were rosted and not burn'd, +For, as they fell downe, all the way they turn'd_. + +_Sis_. Most excellent! + +_De_. I have seene Larkes in that motion at fire +With an Engine of packthread perpendicular. + +_Sis_. What would they have given for a shower in those Cuntries? + +_De_. Now you talke of a Shower you shall heare +Another coppie of Verses that I made +Of a mighty raine which fell once in the _Indies_. + +_Sis_. That you made? If you will venture your lungs let me heare more +impossible stories to passe away the tyme. + +_De. _Heaven did not weepe, but in its swelling eye +Whole Seas of Rhume and moist Catarrs did lie, +Which so bespauld the lower world, men see +Corne blasted and the fruit of every tree; +Aire was condenst to water gainst their wish, +And all their foule was turn'd to flying Fish; +Like watermen they throng'd to ply a fare, +As though it had been navigable Aire. +Beasts lost the naturall motion of each limbe, +Forgott to goe with practiseing to swime: +A trout now here you would not thinke how soone +Taken and drest for th'Emperour o'the Moone, +The fixed Starres, though to our eyes were missing +Wee knew yet were by their continuall hissing. +Weomen were mermaides sailing with the wind, +The greatest miracle was fish behind: +But men were all kept chast against their wish, +And could comitt but the cold sin of fish_. + +_Sis_. And that synne would puzzle all the Civell Lawyers in the +kingdome. Sinns of the flesh they are perfect in; they know well enough +what belongs to Adultery and simple fornication, but you would much +improve and oblige the practise of the Court, if you could bring this +sinne of fish under the Commission. But now, I hope, the raine is over +we shall have faire weather. + +_De_. Now I can tell you, Lady, what a strange frost was in one part of +the world-- + +_Sis_. I shall cry out fire if you doe; I had rather have some discourse +to keepe me warm still. + +_De_. Or how the whole world was troubled with the wind Collick. + +_Sis_. No more Earthquakes, I beseech you. Some frends of myne lost a +great deale of land the last terme, and for ought I know tis never like +to be recover'd. Why, all these verses you have honourd me to heare were +translated out of _French_. + +_De_. You say very right, Lady. + +_Sis_. No, no; they are out of _Spanish_, as I remember. + +_De_. I thinke it be out of _Spanish_, indeed. + +_Sis_. Or else the _Italian_. + +_De_. Troth, I know not which very well. + +_Sis_. And yet you made 'em! Some gentlemen have the faculty to make +verses and forgett what language was the Originall: tis Alamode, I +confesse, sir. + +_De_. Thers the mischiefe in poetry: a man might have told 200 lies in +prose upon his owne name, and never miscaried.--But, leaving these rude +rymes, Ladie, how do you like the novice that Sir _Richard_ comended. + +_Sis_. Mr. _Courtwell_? + +_De_. Is he not a pretty Chrisome[249]? I could not choose but laugh to +observe in what rurall deportment he came to salute you, that should +have made his address in theis postures. + +_Sis_. Tis enough, sir; I apprehend what you would doe. The truth is, +touching that thing in black, I doe not love him. + +_De_. I know't; tis impossible. + +_Sis_. Why is't impossible? The man's a pretty indifferent meaning man, +but I must have one of a more active spiritt. No, no, the man's a +Coward. + +_De_. He lookes like one. + +_Sis_. I put him to't, he dares not fight; and he that expects my favour +to so high a degree as marriage must be none of my lord Maiors +whifflers[250]; he must be valiant in Armes. I am not taken with a ring +or Caskanet, as some avaritious Ladies; he that presents me with the +sword of his rivall is more welcome then all the silken soft natur'd six +hundreds a yeere, that will be baffeld in their best clothes and goe +downe into the Country every Vacacon like Atturneys to be beaten against +next terme and get damage by it, but I forget some affaires that +concerne me. I take my leave. Your deserts upon me are eminent and many, +and for all your noble services I--will promise you nothing: you +apprehend me? + +_De_. O, sweet Lady, tis too much. + +_Sis_. I am so weary I can stay no longer w'ee. [_Exit_. + +_De_. You make mee over happie.--So, so; the matters done. I may write +my friends. Hum: well thought upon! I shall leave her joyes without any +bound to entertaine me if I first beat this foolish rivall of mine and +present her with his sword. She assures me he dares not fight: it shall +be so. Thus with one baffling and disarming him I shall secure my +Mistresse and get the reputation of a fighting Cavallier, which may save +me many a knock hereafter among men of strong faith that shall heare how +much honour I have elsewhere taken upon the ticket. + + + +[SCENE 3.] + + + _Enter Captaine and Underwit_. + +_Un_. Stand right to your files, make even your rankes, silence! +Front to the right hand. +As you were. +To the right hand about. +By the left hand. +As you were. +Rankes to the right double. +Rankes as you were. +Rankes to the left double. +Midlemen to the right hand double the front; as you were,--to the left, +--double the front; middle-men to the right entire [or[251] by division] +double the front; files to the right,--to the left,--to the right hand +countermarch,--to the right,--to the left,--wheele about-- + +_Cap_. Ran tan: enough,--you must not wast your lunges +Too much at once. March faire and make a Captaine. +When these words of Command are rotten (rooted?) wee +Will sowe some other military seeds. +You beare[252] a braine and memory. + +_Un_. I hope so. + +[_Cap_.[253]] And now you are chose a Captaine for your Countrey +You must give good example to your Soldiers +And cherish nature after exercise: +You must drinke sack, sack is a fortifier. +Come, wee'le to the taverne. + +_Un_. With all my heart. + + [_Enter Mr. Courtwell_. + +Here's Mr. _Courtwell_: lett's take him with us. + +_Cap_. My costive Countrey man? hee's an Anabaptist: he wonot drinke, +and yet kist the Cupp of last night, me thought, when his Mistres-- +drank to him: wee'le try. How ist, my man of mortall breeding? + +_Cou_. My man of warre, trebonn.--Your servant, Captaine. + +_Cap_. Why, this was spoke like one of us; canst doo't +Agen? thy voice is more authentick, soundes +As I have heard a Cavalliers in taverne, +Or like the merry master of the _Dragon_, +Small _Neptune_, that controlls the rich Canaries, +When he Comaunds the Tritons of his cellar +'Skud, and bring wine, you varlotts, with a flavour +For my Nobilitie.' Wee were conspiring +To goe to'th taverne. + +_Cou_. Ile make one, gentlemen, to wash away some melancholy. + +_Cap_. Spoke boldlie, like an _Argonaute_. + +_Cou_. I am not now in _London_, +Upon a hall day marching with the puisnes, +Twenty on's in a teame, to _Westminster_ +In our torne gownes, embroiderd with _Strand_ dirt, +To heare the Law. + +_Cap_. Is not thy father dead, thou talkst so well? +How I was cosend in thee: come away. + + _Enter Thomas_. + +_Un_. Here's my man _Thomas_. + +_Cap_. Now the Newes, Sir _Tristram_. + +_Tho_. Oh the Gentleman is mad. + +_Un_. What gentleman? + +_Tho_. Why, Mr. Engine that did faint last night. + +_Un_. With feare of being hang'd for his projections. + +_Cou_. My Uncle told me of him. + +_Cap. Let him to _Bedlam_ then; what makes he here? +Clean straw and a good whip are held restoratives. + +_Tho_. He walkes and talkes the madliest; twenty midwives +Are nothing to him, he drownes all their noise. +His tongue is twenty ring of Bells, and yett +He seemes so merry. + + _Enter Engine_. + +_En_. Save you, gentlemen, gallants, Cavalliers. How farre travell you: +me thinkes you are very finely accomodated. Are you a Doctor, sir? + +_Cap_. No, but I can tell you how to purge, and please you. + +_En_. You say very well. Troth, gentlemen you must pardon me: cry you +mercy, your name is Captaine _Underwit_. + +_Un_. Yes, sir, but my mother came of the _Over-muches_ by the _Peake_. +She broke my father's hart, and Sir _Richard_ buried her: things must be +as please the starres. + +_En_. What thinke you of the blazeing starre in _Germany_? according to +_Ptolmy_ tis very strange. Does the race hold at _Newmarket_ for the +Cup[254]? When is the Cocking, gentlemen? There are a parcell of rare +Jewells to be sold now, and a man had money. I doe meane to build a very +fine house next summer and fish ponds. What did you heare of the new +play. I am afraid the witts are broke; there be men will make affidavit +that [they] have not heard a good jest since _Tarleton_[255] dyed. Pray, +may I crave your name, sir? + +_Cou_. My name is _Courtwell_, sir. + +_En_. In your eare; I have a cast of the best Marlins[256] in England, +but I am resolv'd to goe no more by water but in my Coach. Did you ever +see the great ship?[257] + +_Cap_. I have been one of twenty that have dind in her lanterne. + +_En_. It may be so; she is a good sailer. But ile tell you one thing: I +intend to have the best pack of hounds in _Europe_; Sir Richard loves +the sport well. And then if I can but find out the reason of the +loadstone I were happie and would write _Non Ultra_. + +_Cap_. The philosophers stone were better in my opinion. Have you no +project to gett that? + +_Cou_. That has startled him: I doubt this fellow does but counterfeit. + +_Un_. What thinke you of the Dromedary that was to be seene at the back +side[258] of the _Bell_. + +_En_. I have seene a stranger beast. + +_Cap_. So have I; I have seene you before now, sir. + +_En_. Why then, ile tell you: the strangest beast that ever I saw was an +Ostridge that eate up the Iron mynes. But now you talke of birds I saw +an Elephant beat a Taylor in the fenceing schoole at his owne weapon. + +_Tho_. The _Spanish_ needle? + +_En_. He did out eat him in bread, and that was miraculous. I have seene +a Catamountaine[259] once; but all was nothing to the wench that turnd +round and thred needles. + +_Cou_. Troth, sir, I thinke you have turnd round, too, and are not +setled yet. + +_En_. Now you talke of setling I knew a gentleman, that was borne to a +good fortune, sold all his land, went to sea in a _Hollander_, was taken +by the _Dunkirke_; at seaven yeares end stole away in an _English_ +botome; after that saw both the _Indies_; for all this was taken by a +_Turks_ man of warre, put into the Gallies, and for ought I heare by +credible report is not setled yet. + +_Tho_. Sure he is a great scholler; a man cannot understand him. + +_Un_. His braines are out of tune. + +_En_. Now you talke of Musick theres no man in the world loves musick +better then I,--ile give you the reason: I have been deafe almost this +halfe yeare, and it came with a cold sitting up a primero. + +_Co_. Now you talke of the cold it puts me in mind of the new device of +fire for brewing and bakeing. Had you no hand in the project? + +_Cap_. Againe hees startled: come, he shall to taverne with us and +confess all. If he do not strip his soule stark naked to us, say I am no +fortune teller.--Please you to honour our society: we are going to +indulge at the taverne hard by. + +_En_. You shall comand me, sir. Oh the Neats tongues and partargoes that +I have eaten at Stillyard, but of all things in the world I do not love +a black catt: next a brewers cart, there's nothing will stay a man so +much in the night as a Constables. One word before you go, and I beseech +you give me your opinion cleerely: was not the _Morocco_ Ambasadour a +very fine gentleman for a pagan? + +_Cap_. Yes, surely, and the lead mines in _Darbishire_ hold still for +the Allom businesses. But come; will you walke, Sir? + +_En_. I do use to goe a foote sometymes but when I ride; and then I must +confesse there is no striving with the streame. You were in _London_ +lately: they say the people are more affected to beare baiting then in +former tyme. + +_Cap_. There are some a late are drawne like beares to the stake; but +for your owne part the gout and the grand pox are all one to you. What +price beare[s] meat in the shambles? + +_En_. Flesh rises and falls as it us'd to doe, sir; but a Countrey life +is the best when all's done. What thinke you of a bridg from _Lion_ key +to _Flaunders_? You may guess I talke at randum, gentlemen; but you must +not interpret all foolish discourse a distemper of the braine: Lords +would take it for a _Scandalum Magnatum_ and your Ladies would bee angry +too. + + _Enter Sir Francis and Lady_. + +Now you talke of Ladies-- + +_Cap_. By no meanes, Mr. _Engin_; that gentleman loves you not. Come, +ile bring up the rere. Where's _Thomas_? + + [_Exeunt Underwit, Captain, Courtwell and Engine_. + +_Tho_. Ile follow, sir.--I would give my fower marks a yeare that I +could talke like that mad gentleman. Hee's here and there and +everywhere. How will his tongue run when his Coggs are oild; theile +drench him! [_Exit_. + +_Fra_. Although I mist a happines, I applaud +Your nimble wit that securd both our honours. +You have an excellent Instrument too o' your gentlewoman. + +_La_. Oh she deliver'd to the life how you +Were troubled with the Stone. At first I did +Beleev't my selfe, and thinke of the sad consequence. +But tyme is pretious now: although our Starres +Have not been yet propitious to our meeting +Ile try my art to night to make 'em shine. +With happie influence on our Loves. + +_Fra_. Most excellent Madam, how? + +_La_. Ile not engage +Your visit to my chamber, since the first +Prov'd so unfortunate, but come to youres. + +_Fra_. This night? wonot your husband be at home. + +_La_. Yes. + +_Fra_. You enjoy but one bed. + +_La_. Without witchcraft, sir, +I have a stratageme to delude my husband +And all his jealous waking eyes, a plott +That cannot faile if you dare but expect me. + +_Fra_. I grow immortall with my hopes and fancie +More than the worlds most pretious Empire in +Our first embrace. I should runne back into +An Infant once agen, and by degrees +And tyme grow up to meet so vast a happines. +Ages in expectation spent were poore +And easy sufferings weigh'd against this triumph! +Methinkes I am not man but something of +A more exalted essence: humane nature +Hath not capacity to understand +And owne theis spatious blessings. + +_La_. No more rapture; +But with the confidence of a lover spread +Your equall thoughts, and in your heart and armes +Prepare an entertainement for that guest +That hath no life or name but what you give. +A kisse! and leave our soules to thinke upon +The joyes this night attend us. + +_Fra_. Sullen day, +Do not tire now; tis downehill all the way. + + [_Exeunt severally_. + + + + +_Act the Fourth_. + +[SCENE 1.[260]] + + + [_Captain,[261] Underwit, Courtwell and Musicians, + discovered in the Tavern_.] + +_Capt_. Come, my _Apollos_, my _Orpheuses_ or my _Bacchus_ his +Minst[rels], which, to leave poeticall expressions, in broader phrase +is Taverne fidlers, some of your new tunes, my Masters; doe you heare? + +1. Do you meane Mr. _Adson_'s[262] new ayres, Sir? + +_Cap_. I, Sir; but they are such phantasticall ayres as it putts a Poet +out of his witts to rhime to them; but let mee heare. + + 1 _Play_. + +_Capt_. No, I doe not like that. + + 1 _Play againe_. + +_Capt_. Nor that. (_Play againe_)--No, no, no, neither. + +1. An't please your Worship, Mr. _Capt_., our Boyes can singe songs +to these. + +_Cap_. No, no, saveing your presence, your Boyes have nothing, +sarreverence,[263] but Love songs, and I hate those monstruously, to +make thinges appeare better then they are, and that is but _deceptio +Visus_, which after some embraceings the parties see presently what +it is. + _The Musique Playes_. + + (_Hee sings and reeks and fillips all the time + with his finger, then sayees_:) + +_Cap_. I, I, this thumping tune I like a life; a Song, a Song to it! + + _One Singes. + This Song. + + _The Juice of Spanish squeez'd Grapes is It + That makes a dull Braine so full of witt; + The Lemonades cleere sparkling wine + The grosser witts too, doth much refine. + Then to bee foxd[264] it is no crime, + Since thickest and dull Braines It makes sublime. + The Stillyards Reanish wine and Divells white, + Who doth not in them sometimes take delight? + If with Mimique Gestures you'le keep you from sadnes, + Then drinke lusty Clarett twill put you in Madnes; + And then to settle you no hopes in Beer + But wholesome Potts of Scotch ale though its deere_. + +_Cap_. But looke you, Child, you say the Divells white in your Song. You +have beene ill catechiz'd, Boy, for a _White Divell_ is but a poeticall +fiction[265]; for the Divell, God bless us, Child, is blacke. + +_Boy_. No, Captaine, I say white wine at the Divell. + +_Cap_. That's true; thats a good Boy, indeed. _Underwit_, lend mee a +Peice to give these harmonious men there. And now begon, my Masters, +without noise, for I will have no more fiddle-faddle for my money, no +tunes of supererrogation after the Musicall Bill is paid. + + [_Exeunt[266] omnes_. + + + +[SCENE 2.] + + + _Enter Thomas_. + +_Tho_. They are all drunke already, and such Confusion in their heads +and tongues, my master kisses the next man and calls him Mistres +_Dorothy_; Mr. _Courtwell_, possest with the spiritt of defiance to +_Cupid_, is ready to beat him for being in love; my Projector dead drunk +in a Chaire, and the Captaine peepeing into his mouth like a tooth +drawer and powring downe sack which he feeles not, but his chapps shut +againe like a spring lock till he returne with a key to open his teeth, +to poure in the next health. + + _Enter Courtwell_. + +_Cou_. My Cloake and sword, Drawer. + +_Tho_. Tis here, sir. + +_Cou_. Thou art a pretty fellow; here's half a Crowne, say I am +gone _Thomas_. + +_Tho_. You are pretty well. + + _Enter Captaine and Underwit_. + +_Un_. What shalls doe with him; this Engine burnes like _Etna_. + +_Cap_. Throw him into the River. + +_Un_. Hee's able to mull the _Thames_ well, for my owne part would +Mistresse _Dorothy_ were here to open her files. + +_Cou_. Did you not name a woman. I will have no mention of any thing +that's female. + +_Un_. May not a man talke of Sack? + +_Cap_. Sack is a soveraigne medicine. + +_Un_. Oh very Soveraigne. + +_Cap_. Is it not _hic et hec_ sack, both for he and she. Stay, is my +Countryman gone? come hither, _Thomas_; do you thinke I am drunke? + +_Tho_. Truly, Captaine, I cannot tell. + +_Cap_. You cannot tell? there's your ignorance. Drink is a vice I am as +little given to as another man, for I doe abhorre it in my selfe. I do +wonder how any reasonable man can be drunk; therefore every wise man +take Counsell and example by me, and he may see very plainely what an +odious thing it is; for you must follow your leader, and vertue, which +is an Antient-- + +_Tho_. Vertue an Antient? + +_Cap_. I, an Antient old gentlewoman that is growne very poore, and +nobodie knowes where she dwells very hard to find her out, especially +for a Capt.; you will find it very difficult for a Livetenent. But wee +will endeavour the best wee can; you see my courses, I have travel'd to +find her out, and I could never yet see her at a baudihouse. + +_Un_. Who is to be seene at a baudihouse? to the right hand countermarch. + +_Tho_. He talkes of vertue, sir. + +_Un_. Vertue? she never comes there; why do you thinke she should be +there, Captaine? + +_Cap_. Why, because she is an old gentlewoman and might keepe the house. + +_Tho_. Alas, Captaine, Mistris _Vertue_ is poore and leane. + +_Cap_. Nay, then she is not fit to be a baud, but tell me did you ever +see her, or if so did you ever doo't with her? + +_Un_. No, but twas none of my fault; I know not what I may do in time +when she understands the wordes of Command. + +_Tho_. He does not meane Mistris _Dorothy_: but, Captaine, I would faine +know the reason why your baudes are so fat still. + +_Cap_. A plaine case: they lie fallow and get hart, then they keepe +themselves so in health and so soluble with stewd prunes; and then +sipping of sack is a great matter to fatten 'em. But they are as good +people as a man shall keepe company withall, and bring up the young +gentlewomen so vertuously. I came into one of their houses tother day +for a carreere, and I found the baud sick upon her death bed, very +religious and much given to repentance for those poore sins she had +comitted. When she had taken order for her soule, she told me the young +gentlewoman I look'd for was in the next roome; and desiring her upon +her blessing to give me content, she turnes herselfe to the wall and +gives up the ghost very privatly, because she was loth to trouble us. + +_Un_. By your relation theis appeare to be very good people. What if we +went to visit one of these Matrons? I have a great mind-- + +_Cap_. Wy, now you speake like an understanding soldier, and one that +may come to something in the end. Lett us therefore march on. + +_Un_. March on to _Venus_ Warres. + +_Cap_. For you know, _Thomas_, that the Spider and the Bee, the Spider +and the Bee, do both--something, but in troth I have forgott what tis. + +_Un_. Tis no matter what; let us goe. + +_Cap_. Goe? no more but goe? though I be a Captaine, if I be not chosen +in this imployment-- + +_Tho_. What, then, Captaine? + +_Cap_. Why, then--I cannot goe. + +_Tho_. Very right; but wo' not those young gentlewomen you talk'd of +give a man something to make a man afraid of pepper upon occasion? + +_Cap_. You will be prating so long till I breake your head for +pretending to that which you have not, sirra. + +_Tho_. Alas, I never had it in my life. + +_Un_. What's that, Captaine? + +_Cap_. Wit, I talke of wit. + +_Un_, Who has any wit? does my man offer to have wit? + +_Cap_. Nay, take no offence at it, for I meant none to either of you +by this sack. Drawer, give me my oath, cannot you drinke without wit? +cannot you game without wit? + +_Un_. And yet by your favour the gamesters are cald the wits now. + +_Cap_. Tis no wit to cozen; confederacy and dishonesty will doo't +without wit. Ile iustifie it: do not you know the receit of Cozenage? +take an ounce of knavery at the least,--and confederacie is but so many +knaves put together,--then you must take a very fine young Codling heire +and pound him as small as you can. + +_Un_. And what then, Captaine? + +_Cap_. Why, then you must cozen him. + +_Un_. But which way? + +_Cap_. Which way? Why, which way you will: is not cozen him enough? thou +art a pretty fellow, ile talke with thee. Thy name's _Thomas_; take +heed, I say still, _Thomas_, of being drunke, for it doth drowne the +mortall soule; and yours cannot swim, _Thomas_,--can it? + +_Tho_. Not as I know, Captaine; if it scape fire tis as much as I +looke for. + +_Within Eng_. Oh--oh-- + +_Cap_. What's that? + +_Tho_. Tis Mr. _Engine_ recovered from his dead sleepe. [_Exit_. + +_Un_. D'ee heare, Captaine, for all this I have a great mind to a wench, +and a wench I must have if there be one above ground. Oh _London, +London_, thou art full of frank tenements, give me _London_. Shall we +wheele about yet? + +_Cap_. Give you _London_? Wo'nott _Cheapeside_ serve your turne, or the +_Exchange_? + + _Enter Thomas_. + +_Tho_. Oh, gentlemen, Mr. _Engine_ is surely bewitch'd. + +_Cap_. What, what's the matter? bring the witch and Mr. _Engine_ +before us. + +_Tho_. He does vomit the strangest things yonder. + +_Cap_. Did not I say, murder will out? + +_Tho_. I thinke he has eaten and drunke nothing but Monopolies, and too +hard to be digested they come up againe. + +_Within Eng_. Oh! + +_Tho_. Harke, I must hold his head. [_Exit_. + +_Cap_. Did not I tell you something would come out? + +_Tho_. Pins, pins, they lay across his throat. I told you he was +bewitch'd. Heyday! cards and dice, out with 'em, the Divells a gamester +and paies the box soundly--Now, now, now. + +_Un_. Whats that? + +_Tho_. Tis something clammy,--now,--oh, tis sope! + +_Cap_. Sope? give a man leave to wash his mouth. + +_Un_. Does not the lyme burne his throat, _Thomas_? + +_Tho_. Alas, poore gentleman, something now agen is ready to strangle +him; out with em,--hides, hides,--it was the hornes stuck in his gullett. + +_Within_. Oh-- + +_Tho_. Well straind; what a foule stomack he has! open your mouth, +Mr. _Engine_. + +_Cap_. Throw downe a pottlepot. + +_Tho_. I have, sir, and it has come up full of medium wine; if you have +any charity come and helpe me to hold his head; now agen! + +_Within_. Oh, oh, oh! + +_Un_. This is very strange, Captaine; the man is certainely enchanted. + +_Tho_. Master, master, tis _Shrovetuesday_[267] and the prentices are +pulling downe _Covent Garden_; the Brickes come as whole out as if he +had swallowed Cherristones. Hey! will you take Tobacco in the Roll? here +is a whole shiplading of _Bermudas_ and one little twopenny paper of +berrinas, with a superscription 'To my very loving friends the +Custome-house.' + +_Cap_. Put up that for a relique, _Thomas_, and open it upon high dayes +to clear the sore eyes of our _Spanish_ Marchants. _Thomas_, no more, +but call the Drawer, an understanding Drawer and one that writes +orthographie. + + [_Enter Drawer_. + +--Sirra, I charge you set a padlock upon that Chamber doore; there is a +dangerous fellow must be brought to his purgation. And looke all the +goods that he hath vomitted be forthcomeing, while we discreetly goe and +enforme the Magistrates.--At your perill, sirra, at your perill seale up +the Doore; and do you pay the reckoninge. + +_Un_. Sir _Richard_ is a Justice. There's your money, and yet wee need +not pay; the gentleman hath left enough for the Reckoning in the next +Roome. + +_Un_. I ha made him fast, you are very welcome, gentlemen. All's paid in +the Percullis. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +[SCENE 3.] + + + _Enter Courtwell and Sister_. + +_Sis_. Ile walke no further; if you have a secret +To impart, you need not feare this place; the trees +And hedges will not listen. What's the business? +I hope your phlegmatick stock of verse is spent. + +_Cou_. Why then in prose, the worst that I can speake in, +I doe not love you, Lady. + +_Sis_. How? you ha not +Traind me thus farr to tell me that? + +_Cou_. You are +Of all your sex the poorest emptiest trifle, +And one with whome tis most impossible +I ere should change Affection; theres nothing +To invite me too't, not so much as that +Wee call a seeming reason, upon which +All Love is built, seeming, I say, not it, +My understanding Ladie. + +_Sis_. You thinke I am very dull that you expound +Your witt thus, but it needes no Comentator, +Not by the Author, tis so very plaine; +But to despise me most of all the sexe +Is something oversaid. Though I affect +No flattery, I hate uncivill Language. +You do not meane to quarrell, now you have +Betraid me to the feilds, and beat me, Sir? + +_Cou_. What is there in your face more to attract mee +Then that Red Cowes complexion? Why the Divell +Do you thinke I should dote upon your person? +That thing when she is stroak'd gives milke. + +_Sis_. By that +I understand all this revenge, because +You thinke I did neglect you. Pray, sir, tell me, +And tell me seriouslie, put the Case that I +Should love you now, could not you love agen? + +_Cou_. In troth I thinke I could not. + +_Sis_. You do but thinke. + +_Cou_. Nay, ile bind it with an oath before the parish, +And when I have given my reasons, too, the Clarke +Shall praise me fort and say Amen. + +_Sis_. What reasons? + +_Cou_. I shall be very loath +To say your eyes are twinckling Starres agen, +Your lipps twin cherries and out blush the rubie, +Your azure veines vye beauty with the Saphire +Or that your swelling breasts are hills of Ivory, +Pillowes for Jove to rest his amorous head, +When my owne Conscience tells me that _Bunhill_ +Is worth a hundred on 'em, and but _Higate_ +Compar'd with 'em is Paradice. I thanke you; +Ile not be vext and squeez'd about a rime +Or in a verse that's blanke, as I must be, +Whine love unto[268] a tune. + +_Sis_. This all your feare? + +_Cou_. No, I doe feare to loose my tyme, my businesse, +And my witts too, jolting them all away +To waite on you in prouder Coaches. + +_Sis_. Is this all? + +_Cou_. To spend my selfe to nothing and be laugh'd at +By all the world when I shall come at last +To this reward for all my services, +To bee your lay Court Chaplaine and say gravely +A hastie grace before your windowes breakfast. + +_Sis_. But how +Came you thus cur'd? You were a passionate +(I may say) foole, in hope you will deserve it. +What phisick tooke you that hath thus restor'd you? + +_Cou_. A little sack had power to cure this madnes. + +_Sis_. I hope you are not sober yet, the humour +May change when you ha slept. + +_Cou_. Ile rather stick +My Eyelids up with Sisters[269] thread and stare +Perpetually. + +_Sis_. Then you may see me agen. + +_Cou_. I thinke I sha'not, unless it be to wonder, +When you are in the Ivie bush, that face +Cut upon Tafata, that creame and prunes, +So many plums in white broth, that scutcheon of +Pretence powderd with ermines. Now I looke upon't, +With those black patches it does put me in mind +Of a white soule with sinns upon't, and frights me. +How sell you grapes? Your haire[270] does curle in bunches; +You[r] lipps looke like the parsons glebe, full of +Red, blew and yellow flowers; how they are chopt +And looke like trenches made to draine the meadowe. + +_Sis_. This rudenes +Is beyond the manners of a gentleman. + +_Cou_. I cannot helpe it, and I hope you thinke so. + +_Sis_. I am confirm'd that now I am forsaken, +But if your passion have not drownd all reason +I pray let us part civilly. + +_Cou_. With all my heart; I dare then take my leave, to[o]. + +_Sis_. Whoe's there? + +_Cou_. Where? + +_Sis_. Behind that tree? + +_Cou_. You have no plott to accuse me for a rape? +Twas at the worst but felony, for cherries +That look'd as they had been a fortnight gather'd. + +_Sis_. I know youle bring me home in Curtesie. + +_Cou_. Not I, I wo' not trust my selfe; and you +Will hardly meet a worse to interrupt you. +Fare you well, Ladie.--Do you see that Bull? + +_Sis_. Yes, Sir. + +_Cou_. That is a happie beast + +_Sis_. Why happie, sir? + +_Cou_. He writes no verses to his Mistresse, is +Not cosend nor forsworne to gett her favour, +Bestowes no rings nor empties his Exchequer +To appear still in new rich suites, but lives +Free o' the stock of Nature, yet loves none. +Like the great _Turke_ he walkes in his Seraglio, +And doth command which concubine best pleases; +When he has done he falls to graze or sleepe, +And makes as he had never knowne the Dun, +White, Red or Brindled Cowe. + +_Sis_. You are unmanly. + +_Cou_. Nay, I know you will raile now; I shall like it. +Call me a scurvy fellow, proud and saucie, +An ill bred, crooked Clowne; ile here this rather +Then live upon your pitty. And yet doe not; +For, if you raile, too, men that know you can +Dissemble, may beleeve you love me, and +Tis not my ayme. + +_Sis_. You are a fine man! + +_Cou_. I am in my best clothes? + +_Sis_. I perceave +That tis truth now what the world saies of you, +And yet tis strange. + +_Cou_. 'Twere strange it should be otherwise. + +_Sis_. You give your tongue a licence, nor will I hope +Your malice should spare me abroad that have +So prodigally abus'd a Ladies fame +That deserv'd nobly from you; but you men +Care not whose name you blast with a loose character, +So you maintaine your pride of talke. + +_Cou_. Howe's this? +It is confess'd I have talk'd in my tyme +And talk'd too much, but not too much of you; +For I but seldome thought of such a woman: +For any other-- + +_Sis_. Nay, sir, I am satisfied; +You can talke your pleasure. + +_Cou_. Have I not done it, too? + +_Sis_. Yes, by your own report, and with a lady +So much in vertue and in birth above you; +And therefore I expect not-- + +_Cou_. Stay; this moves me. +I never tooke a pleasure yet to lie +With Ladies fames, or ever thought that sport +Lay in the tongue. Such humours are for men +That live by brothell offices: let me know +Who hath traduc'd me to you thus, he shall +Be knowne no more. + +_Sis_. Ile not be guiltie, sir, +Of any murder; when we meet agen, +And you in better humour, I may tell you. +So farewell, _Gondarino_,[271] nothing's lost +When you turne _Woman Hater_. [_Exit_. + +_Cou_. She has vext me. +If we make Matrimony after this rate, +The Divell is like to dance at our wedding. Ho! + + _Enter Device_. + +_De_. Hee's here, +Alone too, and the place most opportune. +How shall I beginne?--Mr. _Courtwell_, do you love +Any friend of mine? + +_Cou_. Not to my knowledge, Sir; I should be sorry. + +_De_. Do not you love a gentlewoman? + +_Cou_. If she be a friend of yours ile take the first +Occasion to neglect her for your sake. + +_De_. It will become your wisdome and your safety. + +_Cou_. What mischiefe have done to your face? + +_De_. My face? + +_Cou_. You looke so scurvily; come hither, thou +New Monster, with more feet then a Caterpiller; +What tyme a day ist? you that move upon +So many wheeles, say, Monsier, are you not +A walkeing Clock? I have a mighty mind +To see you tooke a peeces. + +_De_. I doe not like this.-- +You wo'not put me, sir, together againe. + +_Cou_. I wo'not take the paines. Why do you smile now? + +_De_. At your conceite to thinke I was a Clock: +I am a watch, I never strike.--Hee's valiant. + +_Cou_. You have pretty colours there; are these your Mistresses? + +_De_. If you did know the mistery you would applaud 'em. +Have you read _Livre de blason_? What meane you? + +_Cou_. I will bestow 'em, sir, upon some forehorse? +They will become a countrey teame rarely. + +_De_. Mor bleu! +Why, you dare fight, it seemes, and I was told +You were no Cavellier, a very dreame [droane?] +A wedg for men to breake their swords upon. +I shall never trust fame agen for your sake. + +_Cou_. Thou never cosendst me. + +_De_. I was never so illiterate in man. + +_Cou_. For I did ever thinke thou durst not fence +But at a complement; a glittering vapour, +A thing of clothes and fitt for chambermaides +To whet their witts upon, but now resolve +Either to have your skin flead of or fight wo' me +For troubling my present meditations. + +_De_. Why, sir, if you be serious I shall quit +That prejudice you have upon my valour. +Looke you, sir, I can draw, and thus provok'd +I dare chastise you, too. Cause I was merry +I was not bound to feed your spleen eternally +With laughter; yet I am not ignorant +What an advantage, sir, your weapon gives you +In length. + +_Cou_. Wee'le change; why, this is honour in thee. + + [_They measure and Device getts both weapons_. + +_De_. Now, sir, keepe of. + +_Cou_. Th'art not so base? + +_De_. I never cosen'd you, do you remember? +These two will guide me on the rope. + +_Cou_. You meane to dance, then? + +_De_. Yes, the Canaries,[272] but with quicker tyme +Then you, I hope, can follow: thus I begin. +Fa, la, la, &c. [_Excurrit_. + +_Cou_. What a heathen Coward's this? how the rogue tripps like a fairie +to the towne with 'em! He has been a footman, sure; I have not aire +enough to overtake him, and twill be darke presently. If I loose the +sight on him ile search the towne, and if I find him not there, pursue +him with hue and cries and after hang him. + + [_Exit_. + + + +[SCENE 4.] + + + _Enter Sir Francis, a taper prepar'd_. + +_Fra_. The sun whose busie eye is still employ'd +A spie upon our actions, tir'd with waiting, +Is drowsie gone to bed, about whose pillow +Night hath hung all her wings and set up tapers +As if the Day were timerous like a Child +And must have lights to sleepe by. Welcome all +The houres that governe pleasure, but be slow +When you have blest me with my wishes. Time +And Love should dwell like twins; make this your bower +And charme the aire to sweetnes and to silence. +Favour me now and you shall change your states; +Time shall be old no more, I will contract +With Destiny, if he will spare his winges +To give him youth and beauty, that we may +Find every minute a fresh child of pleasure. +Love shall be proud to be no more a boy +But grow to perfect strength and bold consistence[273]; +For when too Active Lovers meet, so happie +As wee, whose equall flames light to embraces, +Twill be no weight to number many yeares +In our delights and thinke all age a blessing. +But language is to narrow to expresse +What I expect, tis fitt my soule retire +Till she present her selfe; and, if it can +Measure my hop'd for ioyes with thought, prepare +To entertaine the happines. + + [_Exit_. + + + +[SCENE 5.] + + + _Sir Richard and his Lady abed. Enter Dorothy with a Light_. + +_Do_. I have set already my designe a moveing +To take my Captaine _Underwit_, who in wine +Was late more feirie upon me. I'th meane tyme +I cannot choose but laugh at the device +Wee have to cheat my Master; sure the Divell +Is a great friend to women that love men, +He doth so furnish us with quaint inventions. +Presently after supper she began +Her fitt othe toothach, and did counterfeit +So naturally; but since she went to bed +She almost rav'd by turnes:--I heare her at it. + +_La_. Oh--oh, whoe's there? + +_Do_. Tis I forsooth, I heard you groane and I +Have not the hart to sleepe. Shall I watch by you? + +_La. Oh, no, no, no; get you to bed, make fast the Chamber; +I cannot endure the candle. + + [_Dorothy towards the dore putts out the Candle and returnes_. + +_Ri_. Deare hart be patient. + +_La_. I, you have your homilies of patience, but if you had my paine +twould make you wild. Oh! + +_Ri_. Ile send for the _french_ toothdrawer in the morning. + +_La_. Oh, there is no rack nor torture like it. What shall I do? I shall +never sleepe agen. + +_Ri_. Which tooth ist? + +_Do_.--The sweet one you may be sure which troubles her. + +_La_. This, this, O that there. + +_Ri_. They are happie that are old and have no teeth. + +_La_. Oh, take heed, now it shoots up to my head. + +_Ri_. Thou dost make my head ake with the noise. + +_La_. If you knew what I suffer your head would ake indeed. I must rise +and walke in the Chamber; there is no remedy. + +_Ri_. You will catch more cold. + +_La_. Oh, no, no, deere life, do not crosse me; and you were in my +torment you would rise and trie any thing for a little ease. It cannot +be worse; the paine sure came with a cold, and who knowes but an other +cold may cure me. + +_Ri_. I prethe come to bed agen. + +_La_. So, so, do not troble me; I am now in some little ease; its a +heavenly thing to be goeing. + +_Ri_. Dost heare? + +_La_. Your noise will bring my paine back agen; if you knew what a +vexation it were for me to speake, You wo'not put me too't so. If you +doe talke I wo'not answere a word more, oh! + +_Ri_. Well by this no light ile to _London_ tomorrow. + + [_She takes Dorothy by the hand and exit_. + +Now do I see it is possible that a womans teeth should be as +troublesome as her tongue. + +_Do_. Oh, oh! + +_Ri_. I cannot choose but pitty her, that any woman should hold so much +paine in a hollow tooth. + +_Do_.--If my Mr. touched with so much compassion should rise and force +me to bed with him, I must not cry out a rape; tis at the worst on my +side but fornication in my owne defence. + +_Ri_. I prethe come to Bed. + +_Do_. Oh, oh, oh! + +_Ri_. The musick at a convocation of Catts upon a witches upsetting is +the spheres to this Catterwalling. I will thrust my head into the +pillow, as _Dametas_[274] did in a bush when the beare was a comeing, +and then I shanot heare her. + +_Do_. Oh, this is a kind of Purgatory for sins of the flesh. If she +should fall asleepe with the tother knight it is not possible I should +hold out till morning; that which would fright away an Ague would put me +into a feare, I shall ha the toothache indeed with counterfeiting; I +have knowne some men caught the stammers so; my gums begin to murmure, +there is a feare all over my flesh, she will stay so long, and then--- + +_Ri. coughs_.--Uh, uh! + +_Do_. Oh, oh!--Ile shift places to shew more distraction; at the worst +my noise shall be within his reach; it may give her notice to returne +too. + [_Exit_. + + + +[SCENE 6.] + + + _Sir Francis a sleepe; a table, inke, and paper. Enter Lady_. + +_La_. I am full of feares, and my owne motion frights me; +This furious love is a strange pilot. Sir, +Where are you? ha! asleepe! can any dulnes +That is not Death possess a gentleman, +So valiant in desires, when he expects +To meete his Mistresse? How I blush to raise him! +Was I not worth thy waking expectation? +Farewell; yet something that [like?] a charme that's fastned +To my poore hart restraines me. Inke and paper! +Ile leave him a short monument of this shame +And my neglected Love. [_Writes_. +He knowes my hand: farwell, forgetfull Lover. + [_Exit_. + +_Fra_. What? have I slept? some witchcraft did betray +My eyes to so much darkenes; yet my dreame +Was full of rapture, such as I with all +My wakeing sence would flie to meet. Me thought +I saw a thousand Cupids slide from heaven, +And landing here made this their scene of revells, +Clapping their golden feathers which kept tyme +While their owne feet strook musike to their dance, +As they had trod and touched so many Lutes. +This done, within a Cloud formd like a Throne, +She to whom love had consecrate this night, +My Mistresse, did descend and, comeing toward me, +My soule that ever wakes, angrie to see +My body made a prisoner and so mock'd, +Shook of the chaines of sleepe, least I should loose +Essentiall pleasure for a dreame. Tis happie; +I will not trust my selfe with ease and silence, +But walke and waite her comeing that must bless me. +Forgive me, you bright starres, and do not frowne +That I have not attended as became +One that must live by your kind influence. +Not yet appeard? She did comand I should +With confidence expect her. Ha! what's here? +This Character, was not visible before. +_That man's too much compos'd of phleame +Will loose his Mistress for a Dreame_. [_Reades_. +Tis her's, I know't; she has been here, oh fatall! +And finding me asleepe scorn'd to uncharme +My dull and cursed silence. This distracts me: +Have I so long, with so much Art and study, +Labour'd this honour, and obtaind what my +Ambition look'd at, her consent; and when +The tree it selfe bowed downe its golden fruit +And tempted me to gather, must I make +My selfe uncapable and be guilty of +So black, so base a forfeit? I could teare +My eyelids of, that durst let in a Mist +So darke and so destroying, must I sleepe +At such a tyme that the Divell must be over +Watche too! This houre hath blasted such a hope +As the Earth never teemd with nor the spring +Gave up in smileing blosomes to the breath +Of those sweet windes that whisper from the West +A tale of triumph to the yeere. I could +Dissolve with curseing of my Lathargie. +How shall I looke upon her face whose love +And bold adventure I have thus rewarded? +But passion cannot cure my wound; which must +Bleed till I see her, and then either cease, +Blest by her pardon, or dismiss a life +(Though iust) too poore a Sacrifice for her anger. +Where shall I hide my selfe and shame for ever! + + [_Exit_. + + + + +_The Fifth Act_. + + + _Enter Sister_. + +_Sis_. I cannot forgett my carelesse gentleman: his neglect and +reproaches have wrought strangely upon me.--Hee's here. + + _Enter Courtwell_. + +_Cou_. Is there not a weesill crept into your Chamber, lady? + +_Sis_. A weesill, sir? + +_Cou_. A Mounsier sucklegge. + +_Sis_. Do you take my Chamber for a henns neast? + +_Cou_. There is a thing that calls himselfe _Device_, +One that will break the hart of a post horse +To continue a hand gallop with him; your Alamode, +Your fighting faery feather'd footed servant,-- +When saw you him? + +_Sis_. My fighting servant? has he beaten you, sir? +Perhapps he thought you were his Rivall; surely +I saw him not since yesterday. + +_Cou_. Bu'y, Ladie.-- +How many mile ist to the next Cutlers? +The rogue has pawn'd or sold my sword. + [_Offers to go forth_. + +_Sis_. Dee heare, sir? +I can tell you now what Lady twas you did +Abuse so. + +_Cou_. I abuse a Ladie! tell me the slave +Reported it. I hope twill prove this Mounsieur. +If ere we meet agen! Who wast? + +_Sis_. Upon condition, sir, you will requite me +But with one gentle favour. + +_Cou_. Any thing-- + +_Sis_. You must sitt downe and heare me then while I +At a distance thus deliver-- + +_Cou_. Tis more state. + +_Sis_. I am most unfortunate. + +_Cou_. In what, deare Damsell? + +_Sis_. And much wrongd by a gentleman I lov'd. + +_Cou_. Can he be a gentleman that dares +Wrong so much love and beauty? what's the offence? + +_Sis_. He wo'not love agen. + +_Cou_. And you would have +The stubborne man corrected? + +_Sis_. I would be +Revengd if I knew how, and honour him +Should do me Justice. + +_Cou_. Name the man; Ile doot. + +_Sis_. I cannot. + +_Cou_. How? + +_Sis_. Yet turne your face: alas, it is yourselfe. +I have your word to punish him. + +_Cou_. Sweet Ladie, +I am well acquainted with the worthy gentleman, +But will not kill nor strike him, for I know +He has just reason not to love you--you +Of all your sex; he told me so. + +_Sis_. His reason? + +_Cou_. Was in these wordes; suppose you hear him speak it; +Now do you sit--Lady, when I consider you, +The perfect frame of what we can call hansome, +With all your attributes of soule and body, +Where no addition or detraction can +By _Cupids_ nicer Crittick find a fault, +Or _Mercury_ with your eternall flame; +And then consider what a thing I am +To this high Character of you, so low, +So lost to noble merits, I despaire +To love a Mistresse cannot love agen. + +_Sis_. This is a much dissembled Modesty. + +_Cou_. Therefore give me the kinder Chambermaid, +That will returne me love for my two peeces +And give me back twelve pennyworth agen, +Which is as much as I can well receave; +So there is thirty and nyne shillings cleere +Gotten in Love, and much good do her too't; +I thinke it very well bestow'd. + +_Sis_. But if I thinke you worthy, and accept +Your service, it destroies this other reason +For your despaire. Why, I can praise you, too. + +_Cou_. No, lett it alone I have other reasons Lady +Among my papers. But to love or to be in love +Is to be guld; that's the plaine _English_ of _Cupids Latine_. +Beside, all reverence to the calling, I +Have vowd never to marry, and you know +Love may bring a Man toot at last, and therefore +My fine Gewgaw do not abuse me. + +_Sis_. How can I +When you will neither Love nor marry me? + +_Cou_. I was not made for a husband. + +_Sis_. But I would make you. + +_Cou_. I know what you would make me. + + _Enter Servant_. + +_Ser_. Mounsier _Device_, if you be alone, would present his service. + +_Cou_. Is he come? + +_Sis_. Sir, do me but one favour, ile recant +My Love, I wonot have so much as one +Good thought on you; I will neglect you, sir, +Nay and abuse you, too, if you obscure +But for three minutes. + +_Cou_. Ile have patience so long. + +_Sis_. Admitt him.--I wilbe reveng'd o' somebody.-- +Now, Sir. + + _Enter Device_. + +_De_. I ha brought you a weapon, Lady. + +_La_. Mee, what to do, Sir? + +_De_. Tis Justice I present it to your feete +Whose love arm[e]d me to vindicate your honour. + +_Sis_. My honour? + +_De_. This is but the first of my valour in your cause; +If you affect these Monuments ile make +You up an Armorie; meane tyme receave +My Service with this sword: if he provoke me +To fight with him agen, Ile cut his hand of +And bring that wo' me to present the next. + +_Sis_. Whose hand, deare servant? + +_De_. He is not worth the nameing; las, this does not +Deserve your knowledge. Only thinke what I +Dare do when your bright name is question[e]d, +And I in tyme may merit to be cald +The darling of your virgin thoughts. + +_Sis_. I pray stay. +My name traduc'd? who was so impudent? +Do me the grace to let me know on whome +Your valour had been exercis'd. + +_De_. Why, the formall thing _Courtwell_; I would [not] call him +Gentleman; but that I ha baffled him +You need no other witnes but his sword +With that fine holliday hilt, Ladie. + + [_She shutts the Doore_. + +_Sis_. Looke you, sir, I ha made fast the Doore, +Because I meane before you goe to have +A satisfaction for the base injury +You ha done me. + +_De_. I done you injurie! + +_Sis_. Not that I value _Courtwell_, whome you would +Pretend has been to saucy with my honour; +But, cause I scorne to owne a goodnes should +Depend upon your sword or vindication, +Ile fight with you my selfe in this small vollume +Against your bulke in folio. + +_Cou_. Excellent wench! + +_De_. I was your Champion, lady. + +_Sis_. Ide rather have no fame then heare thee name it. +Thou fight for a Ladies honour and disarme +A gentleman, thou! fence before the pageants +And make roome for the porters, when like Elephants +They carry once a yeare the Citty Castles, +Or goe a feasting with the Drum and foot boyes +To the _Bankeside_ and save the Beares a whipping +That day thou art cudgeld for thy saucy challenging +A sergeant with one eye, that was to much too. +Come, Sir, I meane to have a bout with you. + +_De_. At that weapon? + +_Sis_. This, and no other. + +_De_. Ile rather bleed to death then lift a sword +In my defence, whose inconsiderate brightnes +May fright the Roses from your cheeke and leave +The Lillies to lament the rude divorce. +But were a Man to dare me, and your enemy, +My rage more nimble then [the] _Median_ shaft +Should flie into his bosome, and your eye +Change anger into smiles to see me fight +And cut him into a ragged staffe. + + _Enter Courtwell_. + +_Cou_. I can hold no longer. You have gott a stomack, Sir, with running; +ile try how you can eate a sword. + +_De_. Ha you an ambush, Lady? Ile cry out murder. +Is two to one faire play? + +_Cou_. Let me cut one legg of, to marre his running. + +_De_. Hold, let me speake. + +_Cou_. What canst thou say for thy baseness? + +_De_. Some men loves wit, and can without dishonour +Endure a jeast. Why, do you thinke I know not +You were here, and but obscur'd to see my humour. +I came to waite upon you with your sword, I. + +_Cou_. How came you by'te? confesse before this Lady. + +_De_. Dost thinke her witts so limber to believe +I could compell it from thee. Twas a trick, +A meere conceipt of mirth; thou sha't ha mine. +Dost thinke I stand upon a sword? Ile gi' thee +A case of Pistolls when we come to _London_; +And shoot me when I love thee not. Pox ont, +Thou apprehende'st me well enough. + +_Cou_. But I am not +Satisfied: do you affect this gentlewoman? + +_De_. Hum. + +_Cou_. You will resolve, sir? + +_De_. As may become a stranger; ile not loose +Thy friendship for all woman kind. + +_Cou_. He dares not owne you. + +_Sis_. I easilie forgive him; I should hate +My selfe, if I depended on his pitty. + +_Cou_. Th'art a noble wench. Shall we leave of +These jigs and speake our harts in earnest? By +These twin lips I love thee extreamely. + +_Sis_. Sweare by your owne. + +_Cou_. They shall bee mine. Mounsier, +For your penance you shall along and witnes. + +_Sis_. What, I pray? + +_Cou_. The Priest shall tell you; come, we have both dissembled, +We do love one another. + +_Sis_. Tis not possible. + +_Cou_. Unless you will denie me i'the church. +I ha vou'd to lie with you to night: _Device_, +Amble before and find the parson out; +We will bee friends and thou shalt be her father. + +_De_. I must maintaine my humour or be beaten. [_Ex_. + +_Cou_. Come, weele have no more acquainted. + +_Sis_. Very pretty. +--I may deceave you yet for all your confidence. + +_Cou_. If the skie fall weele have the larkes to supper. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +[SCENE 2.] + + + _Enter Ladie, Sir Francis, Dorothy_. + +_La_. It was strange neglect, sir. + +_Fra_. I confesse it, +And not deserve to live for't; yet if you +But knew my sufferings-- + +_La_. Let her be Judge. + +_Fra_. By no meanes, Madam. + +_La_. You may trust her knowledge. + +_Fra_. This is worse then a whipping now; these Ladies +Have no mercy on a delinquent. I must stand toot. +There is no tyrant to a chamberwoman +Made judg in such a cause; Ide give a Limbe +To be quit now, but, if she choose, I am +A Criple for this world. + +_Do_. Ist possible a man and such a beast? + +_Fra_. So, I must to the shameles. + +_La_. What punishment can be equall to the offence? + +_Do_. He lookes with some compunction for his fault. +Troth, Madam, choose an other night and trye +Whether he will sleepe agen. + +_Fra_. Mercifull wench! +If we peece agen it shall be a good turne in thy way. + +_La_. My husband is this day resolv'd for _London_; +It is his humour, or els, worse, suspition. +Ther's no pretence for him to stay behind. + +_Do_. You have made ill use of your time, Sir _Francis_; +I know not how to helpe you. Seaven yeare hence +You may have such an other oportunitie. + +_La_. Watch if my husband come not this way, _Dorothy_. +--Well, sir, though your transgresse deserve no pardon, +Yet I am charitable upon Condition-- + +_Fra_. Anything, Madam. This shewes exlent in you; +No pennance shall displease so you absolve me. +Bid me to clime some Rock or Pyramide, +Upon whose narrow spire you have advanc'd +My peace, and I will reach it or else fall, +Lost to the world in my attempt. + +_La_. You speake +Gloriously; the condition that assures +Your pardon, 's only this--that you conclude +Here all your loose desires with a resolve +Never to prosecute or hope to enjoy me. + +_Fra_. Call you this Charity? let me rather loose +Your pardon then for ever to be thus forfeited; +Bind me never to see you (and yet that +Were cruelty) then charme me to forgett +That I am man or have a hart, and you +A beauty, which your absence can as well +Make nothing as devide from my adoring. +It is not cure but killing to prescribe +I never must enjoy you. If you have +Resolv'd a Death upon me, let it bee +When we like Lovers have embrac'd-- + +_La_. It is not possible. + +_Fra_. Nothing in love +Can be impossible to willing mindes. +Ile tell you, Madam--(sure the Divell has +Forsworne the flesh)--there may be a plot. I have it! +An exelent rare devise, if you but favour it. +Your husband is imediately for _London_, +I must in modesty ride with him; you +Are left behind. + +_La_. How can that profitt you? + +_Do_.--What a deale of submission these foolish men +Trouble us women with, that are more forward +To be friends agen then they are! + +_Fra_. I will counterfeit a fall. + +_La_. A fall? + +_Fra_. I, from my horse; observe me, then-- + +_Do_.--My confederate, I hope, by this time is at gate +Enquiring for Sir _Richard_ very formally +From the old knight, his Master, and good Ladie. +The fellow has witt to manage it. + +_Fra_. My footman shall pretend himselfe the Surgeon +To attend me; is't not rare? +Stand but to'th fate of this, and if it faile +I will sitt downe a Convert and renounce +All wanton hope hereafter. Deerest Madam, +If you did meane before this honour to me, +Let not your loving thoughts freeze in a Minuit. +My genius is a prophet. + +_Do_. Sir _Richard_, Madam, +Is comeing this way. + +_Fra_. Shall I hope agen? + +_La_. I wo'not say you shall despaire. + +_Fra_. You blesse me. [_Exit_. + +_Do_. My busines is a foote; your Jewell, Madam, +Will credit much the cause. + +_La_. Wee will withdraw +And let me know how you have cast the plott. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +(SCENE 3.) + + + _Enter Sir Richard, opening a Letter; a Footman waiting_. + +_Ri_. From thy Master? his name? + +_Foo_. Sir _Walter Littleland_. + +_Ri_. I doe not know him. + +_Foo_. His name is well knowne in _Lincolnsheire_ neere the fenns: there +were his family antient gentlemen before the Conquest; some say ever +since the flood. + +_Ri_. _Littleland_! + +_Foo_. But he has now more land then three of the best in the shire, +thanke the _Duchmen_ that have drunk up all the water. + +_Ri_. They water drinkers? + +_Foo_. Why not, as well as eate dry land? they are lin'd with butter, +Sir, and feare no Dropsie. + +_Sir Richard reades_. + +_She has been absent theis two yeares; the occasion, her dislike and +disaffection to a gentleman whome I confesse I did too seveerely urge +her to marry. If she have liv'd with you, as my late intelligence hath +enformed me, in the nature of a servant, which is beneath my wishes and +her condition, I hope upon this knowledge you will with consideration of +her quality (she being the onely Child and heire to my fortune) use her +like a gentlewoman. And though my yeares have made me unfitt for +travell, I do intend, upon returne of your Letters, personally to give +you thankes for your respects to my Daughter, whome I shall receave as +new blessing from you, and be happie upon any turne presented to +expresse my selfe for your favours, your true friend and servant_ + _W. Littleland._ + +My maide _Dorothy_ a Knights Daughter and heire! Doe you know your yong +Mistresse. + +_Foo_. I shall be happie to see her and present her with a Letter & some +token from her Ladie Mother. + +_Ri_. I pray trust me to deliver it. + +_Foo_. With all my hart, Sir, you may comand. + + [_Enter Thomas_. + +_Ri_. _Thomas_, pray entertaine this footman in the butterie; let him +drinke and refresh himselfe, and set the cold chine of Beefe before him: +he has ranne hard. + +_Tho_. That will stay his stomach, indeed, but Claret is your only +binder. + +_Foo_. Sack, while you live, after a heat, Sir. + +_Tho_. Please you, my friend, ile shew you the way to be drunke. + + [_Exit. [Tho. with footman_. + +_Ri_. To my loving Daughter. May not this be a trick? +By your favour, Madam. [_He opens the Letter_. + + _Enter Underwit_. + +Captaine, gather you the sence of that Letter while I peruse this. You +know Mistress _Dorothy_. + +_Un_. I have had a great desire to know her, I confess, but she is +still like the bottome of the map, _terra incognita_. I have been a +long tyme hovering about the _Magellan_ streights, but have made no +new discoveries. + +_Ri_. Ha! this is not counterfeit, I dare trust my owne Judgment; tis a +very rich one. I am confirmed, and will scale them up agen. My Ladies +woman Sir _Walter Littlelands_ Daughter and heire! What think you now of +Mistris _Dorothy_? + +_Un_. A great deale better than I did; and yet I have lov'd her this +halfe yeare in a kind of way. O' my conscience why may not I marry her? + +_Ri_. This Jewell was sent by her mother to her. + +_Un_. Deere Uncle conseale till I have talk'd with her. Oh for some +witchcraft to make all sure. + +_Ri_. I like this well; shees here. + + _Enter Dorothy_. + +_Un_. I vow, Mistris Dorothy, if I were immodest twas the meere impudence +of my sack and not my owne disposition; but if you please to accept my +love now, by the way of Marriage, I will make you satisfaction like a +gentleman in the point of honour. + +_Do_. Your birth and estate is to high and unequall for me, sir. + +_Un_. What care I for a portion or a face! She that has good eyes has +good----Give me vertue. + +_Do_. You are pleas'd to make your mirth of me. + +_Un_. By this Rubie, nay you shall weare it in the broad eye of the +world, dost thinke I am in Jeast. + +_Do_. Sir _Richard_-- + +_Un_. And were he ten Sir _Richards_, I am out of my wardship. + +_Do_.--How he flutters in the lime bush! it takes rarely. + +_Un_. What a necessary thing now were a household Chaplaine. + + [_Ext. [Dorothy & Underwit_. + +_Ri_. So, so, the wench inclines. I will hasten my journey that I may +appear with more excuse when they are married in my absence. + + _Enter Captaine and Engine_. + +_Cap_. Sir, I heare you are for _London_ presentlie; +It will concerne you take this gentleman +Along w'ee to bee cur'd. + +_Ri_. Mr. _Engine_ sick! + +_Cap_. Oh, sir, +Dangerously; he has purg'd his stomack, but the ill spiritts +Are flowne into his head and spoild his eares. +He was ever troubled with Devices in his head; +I stronglie feare he must have his scull open'd, +His brains are very foule within. I know +And can direct you to an excle'nt Surgeon. + +_En_. I cannot heare you, Captaine-- + +_Cap_. One that has a rare dexteritie at lanceing +Or opening of a stomack that has crudities; +So neat at separation of a limbe +And quartering of treason. + +_Ri_. You meane the hangman? + +_Cap_. He has practised late to mend his hand, and now +With the very wind and flourish of his instrument +He will strike flatt a projector at twelve score. + +_Ri_. Does he not heare you? + +_Cap_. He has lost that sence he saies, unless he counterfeits; +It wilbe your securitie to see him +Safe in the Surgeons hands. + [_they whisper_. + +_En_.--Into what misery have my Projects flung me! +They shanot know I understand 'em. That +I were quitt with loss of both my eares, although +I cut my haire like a Lay Elder, too, +To shew the naked conyholes! I doe thinke +What cursed Balletts will be made upon me +And sung to divilish tunes at faire and Marketts +To call in cutpurses. In a puppet play, +Were but my storie written by some scholler, +Twould put downe _hocas pocas_ and the tumblers +And draw more audience than the Motion +Of _Ninivie_[275] or the dainty docile horse[276] +That snorts at _Spaine_ by an instinct of Nature. + +_Cap_. Ile leave him to you and seeke out Captaine _Underwit_. + [_Exit_. + +_Ri_. Come, Master _Engine_, weele to horse imediately. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +[SCENE 4.] + + + _Enter Courtwell, Sister and Device_. + +_Cou_. So, we are fast enough, and now I have thee +Ile tell thee all the fault I find; thou hast +A little too much witt to bee a wife; +It could not be too nimble for a Mistresse.-- +_Device_, there is a part still of your pennance +Behind. You would pretend to be a Poet; +Ile not disgrace the name to call thee one, +But let me have rimes against we go to bed, +Two Anagrams that weigh an ounce, with coment, +And after that in verse your Affidavit +That you do wish us joy, and I discharge you. + +_De_. Tis tyme I were at study then. + +_Cou_. About e'm: +Your double congey and depart with silence. [_Exit Device_. +Now prethe tell me who reported I +Had wrong'd a Ladie? Wast not thy revenge +To make me angrie? + +_Sis_. Twas, indeed. Now tell me: +Why at the first approach seem'd you so modest? +You have confidence to spare now. + +_Cou_. Troth I came not +With any wooing purpose; only to please +My Uncle, and try thy witt; and that converted me. + + _Enter Thomas_. + +_Tho_. Did you see my Master, Captaine _Underwit_? + +_Cou_. Yes, hee's talking with the priest and Mistris _Dorothy_. + +_Tho_. Her fathers footman was here; she is a knights daughter +And heire, but she does not know it yet. + +_Sis_. I thinke so. + +_Cou_. Where's my Uncle. + +_Tho_. A mile ons way to _London_ by this tyme with +Sir _Richard_. I long to see my Master. [_Exit_. + +_Cou_. Wee shall want companie to dance. + + _Enter Ladie_. + +_Sis_. My Sister. + +_Cou_. If you please, Madam, you may call me Brother: +We have been at 'I _John_ take the _Elizabeth_'. +A possett and foure naked thighes a bed +To night will bid faire earnest for a boy, too. + +_Sis_. Tis even so; Madam, the preist has done it. + +_La_. May then all joyes attend you; if this had +Been knowne, it might have staid Sir _Richard_ and +Your Uncle one day more. + + _Enter Underwit, Dorothy, Captaine, Thomas_. + +_Un_. Come for another Couple. + +_Tho_. In hell[277]; my Master is married. + +_La_. My husband left some letters and a token +Was sent you Mistris _Dorothy_. You did ill +To obscure your selfe so much; you shall not want +Hereafter all respects that may become you. + +_Do_. Madam, I know not what you meane. + +_Cap_. She wonot take it upon her yet. + +_Un_. Theres the sport. + + _Enter Device_. + +_De_. Oh, Madam, newes, ill newes, an accident +Will blast all your mirth: Sir _Francis_-- + +_Cou: La_. What of him? + +_De_. Has brooke-- + +_Cou_. His neck? + +_De_. You guest very neere it, but his shoulder +Has sav'd that joynt. A fall from's horse, they say, +Hath much endanger'd him. + +_Cou_. My Uncle hurt! [_Exit_. + +_La_. He has kept his word; now if he but counterfeit handsomely. + +_Un_. Mounsier _Device_, I must entreat a Courtesie; you have wit, and +I would have a Masque to entertaine my new father-in-law Sir _Walter +Littleland_. Mistres _Dorothy_, now my wife, is his onely Daughter and +heire. + +_Do_. Who has guld you thus? I am no knights _Daughter_; +You may share your poeticall invention, sir. + +_De_. Give you joy, Captaine. + +_Un_. She is still loth to confesse it. + + _Enter Sir Francis, Lady, Courtwell, Sister, Captaine_. + +_Fra_. If you have charity a bone setter. + +_La_. He does counterfeit rarely.--Wheres Sir _Richard_? + +_Fra_. He rid before, but I sent my footman to tell him this misfortune. +Oh, Madam! + +_La_.--This is better then the toothack; he carries it excellently. + +_Fra_. Aske me no torturing questions; I desire, +Madam, a little conference with you. +Ile thanke the rest if they withdraw: oh! + +[_Cou_.[278]] Letts leave him. + +_Un_. Wee'le to my chamber, captaine. + +_Cap_. You have a mind to examine the business privatly? + +_Do_. No, good Captaine, you may be present. + +_Cou_. Come, _Thomas_, thou shat be witnes, too. + + [_Ext. all but Sir Francis and Lady_. + +_La_. They are gone; they feigne most artificially, +Let me embrace you. + +_Fra_. Oh, take heed. + +_La_. What's the matter? + +_Fra_. Tis no dissembling,--Madam; I have had +A fall indeed, a dreadfull fall; I feele it. +I thinke my horse saw the Divell in some hedge: +Ere I had rid three furlongs, gave a start, +Pitcht me of ons back like a barr and broke +A flint with my shoulder, I thinke, which strooke fire too; +There was something like it in my eyes, Ime punish'd. + +_La_. But is this serious? are you hurt indeed? + +_Fra_. Hurt? I ha broke my shoulder feelingly, +And I am of opinion when I doe +Enjoy you, Madam, I shall breake my neck; +That will be next. Ile take this for a warning +And will leave of in tyme. + +_La_. This makes me tremble. + +_Fra_. I will be honest now; and so forgive me. +Not the Surgeon come yet? + +_La_. Heaven hath cur'd us both. + +_Fra_. I am not cured yet. Oh for the bone setter! +If ere I counterfeit agen. + +_La_. There is a blessing falne upon my blood. +Your only charme had power to make my thoughts +Wicked, and your conversion disinchants me; +May both our lives be such as heaven may not +Grieve to have shew'd this bounty. + + _Enter Courtwell_. + +_Cou_. Sir _Richard_, Madam. + +_La_. You may enter now, sir. + + _Enter the rest and Sir Richard_. + +_Ri_. I do not like this stratageme; Sir _Francis_ +Must not heere practise his Court tricks; I wo'not + _Enter Surgeon_. +Trust my wives surgerie. Hee's come.--How ist, +Noble Sir _Francis_? Best withdraw; ile see +Him drest my selfe. [_They lead out Sir Francis_. + + _Enter Underwit, Dorothy, Captaine, Thomas_. + +_Un_. Madam and gentlemen, Mistris _Dorothy_ wo'not acknowledge she is +a knight's daughter; she sweares she knows no _Littleland_. + +_Do_. Till it appeare to whom this gemme was meant, +Deare Madame, be you treasurer. I confesse +I have wealth enough in such a noble husband. + +_La_. It shall belong to thee; be honest, _Dorothy_, +And use him well. + +_Do_. With my best study, Madam. + +_La_. Where is the footman you talke of? + +_Tho_. He pretended Letters to carry two mile of to a kinsman of his +Masters, and returne presently. He dranke three or fower beere glasses +of sack, and he ran away so lightlie. + +_Do_. His reward shall overtake him. + +_Un_. Will you have her? she will doe you service, Captaine, in a _Low +Country_[279] Leaguer. Or thou, _Thomas_? ile give thee a Coppiehold. + +_Tho_. You have one life to come in that lease, yet I thank you: I am +free, and that's inheritance; for ought I know she may serve us both. + +_La_. Come you may perswade her to looke high and take it upon her for +your credit. The gullery is yet within these walles; let your shame goe +no farther. The wench may prove right, she may. + + _Enter Sir Richard_. + +_La_. What news from Sir _Francis_? + +_Ri_. Wife, I hardly aske thee forgivenes; I had jealous thoughts, but +all's right agen. + +_La_. I will deserve your confidence. + +_Ri_. No great danger, his blade bone dislocated; the man has put +everything in his right place. + +_Un_. Dee heare, Sir _Richard_? wee are married. + +_Ri_. Tis well done, send you joy; tis to my mind. + +_Un_. Come hither, _Dorothy_. + +_Cap_. But where's Mr. _Engine_? + +_Ri_. He rid before. + +_Cap_. If the rascall have any wit left he will ride quite away with +himselfe; tis his best course to fly oversea. + +_Tho_. If he were sure to flie, he were sure to escape. + +_Cap_. At the worst, drowning is a most [sic] honourable death then +hanging. + +_Do_. My mother died, I have it by tradition, +As soone as I was borne; my father (but +No knight) is now i'th _Indies_, a poore Merchant, +That broke for 20,000 pounds. + +_Ri_. The shipps may come home. Hee! + +_Do_. You were best use me well, now we are married. +I will be sworne you forc'd me to the Church +And thrice compeld me there to say _I Dorothy_. +The Parsons oath and mine, for ought I know, +May make it halfe a rape. + +_Ri_. There is no remedy; +We can prove no conspiracie. And, because +I have been gulld my selfe, gett her with child, +--My Doe is barren,--at birth of her first baby +Ile give her a hundred peeces. + +_Un_. That's somewhat yet, when charge comes on. Thy hand! a wife can be +but a wife: it shall cost me 500 pounds but ile make thee a Ladie in +earnest. + + _Enter Sir Francis and Surgeon_. + +_Ri_. How ist, Sir _Francis_? + +_Fra_. My Surgeon sayes no danger; when you please, +I may venture, Sir, to _London_. + +_Ri_. No hast now. + +_Cou_. Not to-night, Sir; wee must have revells and you salute my Bride. + +_Un_. And mine. + +_Tho_. A knights Daughter and heire. + +_Fra_. May all joy thrive upon your Loves. +--Then you are cosend of your Mistres, Mounseir? + +_Do_. But your nephew knowes I have met with my match. Some bodie has +been put to the sword. + +_Ri_. Come, we loose tyme. + +_Fra_. Preserve your marriage faith: a full increase +Of what you wish confirme your happinesse. + + [_Exeunt_. + + +FINIS. + + + + +APPENDIX I. + + +The folio volume numbered Eg. MS. 1,994 contains 349 leaves. It was +purchased by the British Museum, for the very modest sum of thirty-three +pounds, at the sale of Lord Charlemont's library on August 6, 1865. Mr. +Warner (of the Manuscript Department of the British Museum), to whom the +public are indebted for an excellent catalogue of the Dulwich +Collection, thinks that the volume originally belonged to Dulwich +College. Towards the end of the XVIIth century Cartwright, the actor, +bequeathed to the College a number of MS. plays, which the College +authorities in the middle of the last century exchanged (horrendum +dictu!) for tomes of controversial divinity. Of all the plays left by +the actor only one[280]--and that imperfect--remains. The late Lord +Charlemont was a friend of Malone, and it is well known that Malone had +many of the Dulwich documents in his possession for years. Mr. Warner's +theory is that Malone lent the volume to Lord Charlemont, and that it +was never returned. The objection that naturally suggests itself is, +"How came so acute a scholar as Malone to fail to draw attention to a +Collection of such considerable interest?" And I confess that I am not +able to offer any satisfactory answer. + +The volume contains in all fifteen plays, written in various hands. One +piece has the author's initials attached, but the others have neither +name nor initials. + +First in order, leaves 1-29, stands Fletcher's _Elder Brother_. I have +compared the MS. with Dyce's text, and find the variations to be few and +unimportant. In III. 3 Dyce follows the old copies in reading:-- + + What a noise is in this house! my head is broken + Within a parenthesis: in every corner, + As if the earth were shaken with some strange colic, + There are stirs and motions. + +As the words "within a parenthesis" were found in all the old copies +Dyce did not feel justified in rejecting them, although he had only the +most grotesque meaning to assign to them. Theobald rightly saw that +"within a parenthesis" was a marginal note, mistaken for a part of the +text when the book was sent to press. The MS. gives-- + + Sweet heart, + What noyse is in this house? my head is broken + In every corner, as the earth were shaken + With some strange Collick: there are stirs and motions: + What planet rules this house? Whos there? + +In III. 5 the MS. supports Mason's correction "Their blue veins _and_ +blush disclose," where Dyce followed the old reading "_in_ blush."--At +the end of the play, after the Epilogue, are written the three following +Epigrams:-- + + A freemans life is like a pilgrimage: + What's his life then that lives in mariage? + Tis _Sisyphus_ his toyle that with a stone + Doth doe what surely for ease must be done. + His labours journey's endles; 'tis no riddle, + Since he's but halfe on's way that stands inth' middle. + + _Ad Janum_. + + Take comfort, _Janus_; never feare thy head + Which to the quick belongs, not to the dead. + Thy wife did lye with one; thou, being dead drunke, + Then art no Cuckold though she bee a Punke. + + Tis not the state nor soveraintie of _Jove_ + Could draw thy pure affections from my love: + Nor is there any _Venus_ in the skyes + Could from thy lookes withdraw my greedy eyes. + +Leaves 30-51 are taken up with _Dick of Devonshire_. Then follows an +unnamed play (leaves 52-73), written in a villainous hand. If I succeed +in transcribing this play I shall print it in the third volume, for it +seems to be an unpublished play of Heywood's. The next piece, entitled +_Calisto_ (leaves 74-95), which is written in the same hand, consists of +scenes from Heywood's _Golden Age_ and _Silver Age_. There are many +variations from the printed copies, showing that the most active of the +old playwrights found time to revise his works. Here is a song that was +omitted in the printed copy. Its proper place in Pearson's _Reprint_ of +Heywood is vol. iii. p. 67:-- + + Whether they be awake or sleepe, + With what greate Care ought Virgins keepe, + With what art and indevor, + The Jewell which they ought to pryse + Above the ritchest marchandise,-- + And once lost lost for ever! + + Virginity is a rare gem, + Rated above a diadem, + And was despised never: + 'Tis that at which the most men ayme + And being gott they count their game + And once lost lost for ever. + +Of the charming song "Haile beauteous _Dian_, Queene of Shades" the MS. +gives a far inferior version:-- + + Thou _Trivia_, dost alone excell, + In heaven when thou dost please to dwell + Cald _Cynthia, Proserpine_ in Hell: + But when thou theair art fyred + And takest thy bugle and thy bowe, + To chase on Earth the hart or doe, + Thee for _Diana_ all men knowe, + Who art mongst us admired: + _Pan_ and _Pomona_ boath rejoyce, + So swaynes and nimphes with pipe and voyce. + + Off all chast vestalls thou art queene + Which are, which heretofore have been; + The fawnes and satyres cladd in greene + On earth wayte to attend thee; + And when that thou on huntinge goest, + In which thou art delighted moest, + They off their active swiftnes boast, + For which we all comend thee. + _Pan_ and _Pomona_ boath rejoyce, + So swaynes and nimphes with pipe and voyce. + +We come now to a chronicle play (leaves 97-118), _Edmond Ironside: The +English King_. This piece had a second title--_A trew Chronicle History +called War hath made all friends_. It must be confessed that this old +play is a tedious business, sadly wanting in life and movement. The +following extract will give a taste of the author's quality:-- + + _Enter Canutus, Edricus with other Lords and souldiers_. + + _Canutus_. A plague upon you all for arrant cowards! + Looke how a dunghill cocke not rightly bred + Doth come into the pitt with greater grace, + Brislinge his feathers, settinge upp his plumes, + Clappinge his winges and crowinge lowder out + Then doth a cocke of game that meanes to fight; + Yett after, when he feeles the spurres to pricke, + Crakes like a Craven and bewrayes himself: + Even soe my bigbond _Daines_, adrest to fight + As though they meant to scale the Cope of heaven, + (And like the Giants graple with the gods) + At first encounter rush uppon theire foes + But straight retire: retire? nay, run awaye + As men distraught with lightninge from above + Or dastards feared with a sodaine fraye. + + _Edricus_. Renowned Soveraigne, doe not fret your self. + Fortune in turninge will exalt your state + And change the Countenaunce of her cloudy browe, + Now you must hope for better still and better + And _Edmond_ must expect still worse and worse, + A lowringe morning proves a fayer daye, + Fortunes ilfavord frowne shewes shee will smile + On you and frowne on _Ironside_. + + _Canutus_. What telst thou mee of fortune and her frownes, + Of her sower visage and her rowling stone? + Thy tongue rowles headlong into flattery. + Now by theis heavens above our wretched heades + Ye are but cowards every one of you! + _Edmond_ is blest: oh, had I but his men, + I would not doute to conquer all the world + In shorter time the [then] _Alexander_ did. + But all my _Daines_ are Braggadochios + And I accurst to bee the generall + Of such a stocke of fearefull runawaies. + + _South_. Remember you have lost Ten Thousand men, + All _English_ borne except a Thousand _Daines_. + Your pensive lookes will kill them that survive + If thus to Choller you give libertie. + + _Canutus_. It weare no matter if they all weare slaine, + Then they should neaver runne awaye againe. + + _Uska_. My noble lord, our Cuntrymen are safe: + In all their broyles _English_ gainst _English_ fight; + The _Daines_ or none or very few are slaine. + + _Canutus_. It was a signe yee fledd and did not fight. + [_turns towards Uskatant_. + Ist not a dishonour unto you + To see a foraingne nation fight for mee + Whenas my homebred Cuntrymen doe runne, + Leaving theire king amongest his enimies? + + _Edricus_. Give not such scoope to humerous discontent, + Wee all are partners of your privat greefes. + Kinges are the heads, and yf the head but ache + The little finger is distempered. + Wee greeve to se you greeved, which hurteth us + And yet availes not to asswage your greefe. + You are the Sunne, my lo:, wee Marigolds; + Whenas you shine wee spred our selves abroad + And take our glory from your influence; + And when you hide your face or darken yt + With th'least incounter of a clowdy looke, + Wee close our eies as partners of your woes, + Droopinge our heades as grasse downe waid with due. + Then cheere ye upp, my lord, and cheere upp us, + For now our valours are extinguished + And all our force lyes drownd in brinish teares, + As Jewells in the bottome of the sea. + --I doe beseech your grace to heare mee speake. + [_Edricus talks to him_. + +The next piece (leaves 119-135), which is without a title, is founded on +the Charlemagne romances. My friend, Mr. S.L. Lee, editor of _Huon of +Bordeaux_, in answer to my inquiries writes as follows: "Almost all the +characters in this play are the traditional heroes of the French +Charlemagne romances, and stand in the same relation to one another as +in the _Lyf of Charles the Grete_ and the _Four Sons of Aymon_, both of +which were first printed by Caxton, and secured through later editions a +wide popularity in England during the XVIth century. I believe, however, +that the story of the magic ring is drawn from another source. It is +unknown to the Charlemagne romances of France and England, but it +appears in several German legends of the Emperor, and is said to be +still a living tradition at Aix-la-Chapelle, where the episode is +usually localised (cf. Gaston, Paris, _Histoire Poétique de +Charlemagne_, p. 383). Petrarch has given a succinct account of it in a +letter written from Cologne, in which he states that he learnt it from +the priests of the city, and it is through his narrative that the legend +appears to have reached England. John Skelton in his poem 'Why come ye +not to court?' quotes the story, and refers to the Italian poet as his +authority (cf. Dyce's Skelton, II. 48 and 364, where the letter is +printed at length). Southey has also made the tradition the subject of a +ballad entitled _King Charlemain_ to which he has prefixed a French +translation of the passage of Petrarch. In 1589 George Peele in a +_Farewell_ addressed to Morris and Drake on setting out with the English +forces for Spain tells them to + + Bid theatres and proud tragedians, + Bid Mahomet, Scipio, & mighty Tamburlaine, + King _Charlemagne_, Tom Stukeley and the rest + Adieu. + +Dyce, in a note on this passage (Dyce's Peele, II. 88) writes: 'No drama +called _Charlemagne_ has come down to us, nor am I acquainted with any +old play in which that monarch figures.' But we know from Henslowe's +diary that in at least two plays that were dramatised from Charlemagne +romances the Emperor must have taken a part." Mr. Lee concludes his most +interesting note by suggesting that the present play may be the one to +which Peele alludes; but he will at once perceive from my extracts that +the date 1589 is much too early. Here is a passage that might have been +written by Cyril Tourneur:-- + + [_Ganelon_ stabs _Richard_, his dearest friend, + suspecting him of treachery.] + + _Rich_. O you've slayne me! tell me, cruell sir, + Why you have doone thys, that myne innocent soule + May teache repentance to you-- _dies_. + + _Gan_. Speake it out,-- + What, not a worde? dumbe with a littill blowe? + You are growne statlye, are you? tys even so: + You have the trycke of mightie men in courte + To speake at leasure and pretend imployment. + Well, take your tyme; tys not materyall + Whether you speake the resydue behynde + Now or at doomes day. If thy common sence + Be not yet parted from thee, understand + I doe not misse thee dyinge because once + I loved thee dearlye; and collect by that + There is no Devyll in me nor in hell + That could have flesht me to this violent deathe + Hadst thou beene false to all the world but me. + +The concentrated bitterness of those lines is surpassed by nothing in +the _Revenger's Tragedy_. Indeed, I am inclined to believe that the +whole play, which is very unskilfully constructed, is by Tourneur, or +perhaps by the author[281] of the _Second Maiden's Tragedy_. All the +figures are shrouded in a blank starless gloom; to read the play is to +watch the riot of devils. Here is an extract from the scene where +_Orlando_, returning from the wars, hears that _Charlemagne_, his uncle, +has married _Ganelon's_ niece, and that his own hopes of succession have +been ruined by the birth of a son:-- + + _Orl[ando.]_ I am the verye foote-ball of the starres, + Th'anottomye of fortune whom she dyssects + With all the poysons & sharpe corrosyves + Stylld in the lymbecke of damde pollycie. + My starres, my starres! + O that my breath could plucke theym from theire spheares + So with theire ruyns to conclude my feares. + + _Enter La Buffe_. + + _Rei[naldo.]_ Smoother your passions, Sir: here comes his sonne-- + A propertie oth court, that least his owne + Ill manners should be noted thyeks it fytt + In pollycie to scoffe at other mens. + He will taxe all degrees & thynke that that + Keepes hym secure from all taxation. + + _Orl_. Y'are deceyvd; it is a noble gentyllman + And hated of hys father for hys vertues. + + _Buf_. Healthe and all blessinge wherewith heauen and earthe + May comforte man, wayte on your excellence! + + _Orl_. Although I know no mans good wyshe or prayrs + Can ere be heard to my desyred good, + I am not so voyde of humanytie + But I will thancke your loue. + + _Rei_. Pray, Sir, what newse + Hath the courte latterly beene deliverd of? + + _Buf_. Such as the gallymaufry that is fownd + In her large wombe may promise: he that has + The fayrest vertues weares the foulest shyrte + And knowes no shyfte for't: none but journeymen preists + Invay agaynst plurallytie of liueinge + And they grow hoarse ithe cause, yet are without + The remedye of sugar candye for't. + Offices are like huntinge breakfasts gott + Hurlye burlye, snatcht with like greedynes, + I & allmost disjested too assoone. + + _Oli[ver]_. I, but in sober sadnes whatts doone there? + + _Buf_. Faythe, very littill, Sir, in sober sadnes, + For there disorder hurryes perfect thyngs + To mere confussyon; nothing there hath forme + But that which spoyles all forme, & to be shorte + Vice only thrives & merrytt starves in courte. + + _Rei_. What of the maryadge of your noble aunte + Oure fayre eied royall empresse? + + _Buf_. Trothe I wonderd, Sir, + You spooke of that no sooner, yet I hope + None here are jealyous that I brought one sparke + To kyndell that ill flame. + + _Orl_. No, of my trothe, + I knowe thee much too honest; but how fares + The Empresse now, my dear exequetresse? + + _Buf_. Sir, as a woman in her casse may doe; + Shee's broughte [to] bedd. + + _Rei_. What, has she a chylde then? + + _Buf_. I, my Lord. + + _Orl_. A Sonne? + + _Buf_. Mys-fortune hathe inspyrd you, Sir; tys true. + + _Orl_. Nay when my fortune faylls me at a pynche + I will thynke blasphemy a deede of merrytt. + --O harte, will nothing breake the? + + _Rei_. Tis most straunge. + + _Orl_. Straunge? not a whytt. Why, if she had beene spayd + And all mankynd made Euenucks, yet in spyght + My ill fate would have gotten her with chylde-- + Of a son too. Hencefourthe let no man + That hathe a projecte he dothe wishe to thryve + Ere let me knowe it. My mere knowledge in't + Would tourne the hope't successe to an event + That would fryghte nature, & make patyence braule + With the most pleasinge obiecte. + + _Buf_. Sir, be at peace; + Much may be found by observatyon. + + _Orl_. Th'arte bothe unfriendlie & uncharytable. + Thys observation thou advysest to + Would ryvett so my thoughts uppon my fate + That I should be distrackt. I can observe + Naughte but varyetye of mysseries + Crossynge my byrthe, my blood and best endevours. + I neare did good for any but great _Charles_, + And the meare doing that hath still brought fourth + To me some plague too heavye to be borne, + But that I am reserud onlye to teach + The studyed envye of mallignant starrs. + If fortune be blynde, as the poetts houlde, + It is with studyinge myne afflictions: + But, for her standing on a roullinge stone, + Theare learninge faylls theym, for she fixed stands + And onlye against me. + +I may perhaps be tempted to print this play in full. The MS. has +suffered somewhat, many lines having been cut away at the foot of some +of the pages. Although the first scene is marked _Act 2, Scene 2_,[282] +the play seemed to me to be complete. On the last leaf is written "Nella +[Greek: phdphnr] la B." Some name is possibly concealed under these +enigmatic letters; but the riddle would defy an Oedipus. + +The next play (leaves 136-160) is entitled _The fatal Maryage, or a +second Lucreatya_. _Galeas_, on returning from the wars, crowned with +praises, is requested by his widowed mother to make a journey into the +province of _Parma_ to receive moneys owed by Signor _Jouanny_. On his +arrival he falls in love with _Jouanny's_ daughter, _Lucretia_, runs +away with her, and secretly marries her. _Galeas'_ mother, angered at +the match, practises to convey _Lucretia_ to a nunnery and get her son +married to an earl's daughter; but _Galeas_ defeats his mother's +machinations by killing himself and _Lucretia_. There is a second plot +to this odd play, but enough has been said. The meeting between _Galeas_ +and _Jouanny_ is the best thing in the play:-- + + _Enter Galeas & Jacomo_. + + _Ga_. You spake with him as I comanded you? + + _Jac_. And had his promise to meet you presently. + + _Ga_. I have heard much fame of him since my arrive, + His generall nature, hospitable love; + His [He's?] good to all men, enemy to none. + Indeed he has that perfect character + Before I see him I'm in love with him. + + _Jac_. Hee has the fame few Cittizens deserve. + + _Ga_. Why, sir, few Cittizens? + + _Jac_. His words his bond, and does not break that bond + To bankrupt others; he makes you not a library + Of large monopolie to cosen all men: + _Subintelligitur_, he hates to deale + With such portentious othes as furr his mouth + In the deliverance. + + _Enter Jouanny_. + + _Ga_. Hee comes himselfe. + + _Jou_. Sir _Galeas_, if I mistake not? + + _Ga_. I weare my fathers name, sir. + + _Jou_. And tis a dignity to weare that name. + Whatts your affairs in _Parma_? + + _Ga_. To visit you, sir. + + _Jou_. Gladness nor sorrow never paid mans debts. + --Your pleasure, sir? + + _Ga_. The livery of my griefe: my fathers dead + And mee hath made his poore executor. + + _Jou_. What? ought hee ten thousand duckets? + Thy fathers face fixt in thy front + Should be the paymaster tho from my hand. + + _Ga_. I doe not come to borrow: please yee read. + + _Jou_. Read? and with good regard, for sorrow paies noe debts. + + _Ga_. The summes soe great I feare, once read by him, + My seeming frend will prove my enemy. + + _Jac_. Faith, if he doe, hee proves like your French + galloshes that promise faire to the feet, yet twice a day + leave a man in the durt. + + _Jou_. Was this your fathers pleasure? + + _Ga_. It was his hand. + + _Jou_. It was his writing, I know it as my owne, + Wherein hee has wronged mee beyond measure? + + _Ga_. How? my father wrongd yee? I'm his sonn. + + _Jou_. Wert thou his father I'm wrongd,-- + Iniurd, calumniated, baffled to my teeth; + And were it not that these gray haires of mine + Were priviledgd ane enemy to vallour, + I have a heart could see your fathers wrong-- + + _Ga_. What? raile you, sir? + + _Jac_. Challenge a half pint pot. + + _Jou_. There in a sawpitt, knave, to quitt my self + Of such an inury.--Hee writes mee here + That I should pay to you tenn thousand crownes. + + _Ga_. As being due to him. + + _Jou_. But thatts not my quarrell, sir; for I did owe to him + Millions of Crownes, millions of my love;-- + And but to send a note here for his owne! + Ist not a quarrell for an honest man? + + _Jac_. With very few, I thinke. + + _Jou_. Why, looke yee, sir: + When after many a storme and dreadfull blow + Strooke from fire-belching clouds, bankrupt of life + I have home return'd; when all my frends denide + Their thresholds to mee, and my creditors + Desir'd to sinke mee in a prisoners grave, + Hee gave mee dying life, his helpefull hand + Sent mee to sea and kept mee safe on land. + Ist not a quarrell then to seeke butts owne? + + _Ga_. Oh, pray, sir-- + + _Jou_. When all the talents of oppression + Of usurers, lawyers and my creditors + Had fangd upon my wife and family, + Hee gave mee dying life, his helpfull hand + Sent mee to sea and kept mee safe on land. + Ist not a quarrell then to seeke but's owne? + + _Ga_. Good sir-- + + _Jou_. Come in, sir, where I will pay all that you can demand: + Noe other quarrell, sir, shall passe your hand. + + _Ga_. If every [one] should pay as well as you + The world were good, wee should have bankrupts few. + + _Jac_. I'm of your mind for that. [_Exeunt_. + +We now come to a play (leaves 161-185), without title, and wanting some +leaves at the end, on the subject of Richard the Second. I think with +Mr. Halliwell-Phillipps, who printed eleven copies of this piece, that +it is anterior to Shakespeare's play. There is less extravagance of +language than in most of the plays belonging to that early date (circ. +1593?); and the blank verse, though it is monotonous enough, has perhaps +rather more variety than we should expect to find. Much of the play is +taken up with _Greene_ and _Baggott_; but the playwright has chiefly +exerted himself in representing the murder of _Woodstock_ at Calais. +Before the murder, _Woodstock_ falls asleep, and there appears to him +the ghost of the _Black Prince_: + + ... Oh I am nought but ayre: + Had I the vigour of my former strength + When thou beheldst me fight at _Cressy_ feild, + Wher hand to hand I tooke King _John_ of _France_ + And his bould sonns my captive prisoners, + Ide shake these stiff supporters of thy bed + And dragg thee from this dull securyty. + Oh yett for pittye wake; prevent thy doome; + Thy blood upon my sonne will surely come: + For which, deere brother _Woodstocke_, haste and fly, + Prevent his ruein and thy tragedy. [_Exit Ghoste_. + +Undisturbed by this appeal, _Woodstock_ slumbers on. Then enters the +ghost of _Edward the Third_. His speech is worthy of Robert Greene:-- + + Sleepst thou so soundly and pale death so nye? + _Thomas_ of _Woodstocke_, wake my sone and fly. + Thy wrongs have roused thy royall fathers ghost, + And from his quiat grave king _Edwards_ come + To guard thy innocent life, my princely sonne. + Behould me heere, sometymes faire _Englands_ lord: + (7) warlicke sonnes I left, yett being gone + No one succeeded in my kingly throne, &c. + +I will not inflict more of this stuff on the reader. Suffice it to say +that _Woodstock_ wakes in terror and calls aloud. _Lapoole_, the +governor of the city, who is close at hand with two murderers, enters +and comforts him. Here the playwright shows a touch of pathos:-- + + Good nyght, _Lapoole_, and pardon me, I prethee, + That my sadd feare made question of thy faith. + My state is fearefull and my mynd was troubled + Even at thy entrance with most fearefull vissions + Which made my passiones more extreame and hastye. + Out of my better judgment I repent itt + And will reward thy love: once more, good nyght. + +Now follows the _Lady Mother_ (leaves 186-211), which I have proved to +be a play of Glapthorne's. No doubt it is the same piece as the _Noble +Trial_, entered on the Stationers' Registers, June 29, 1660, but not +printed. + +Then we have a masque (leaves 212-223). On the first page are given the +_nomina actorum_, and underneath is written "August 5th, 1643." I was +surprised to find in this masque a long passage that occurs also in +Chapman's _Byron's Tragedie_ (ed. Pearson, ii. 262). Ben Jonson said (to +Drummond of Hawthornden) that only he and Chapman knew how to write a +masque. The remark has always puzzled me, and certainly I should never +have thought of Chapman's name in connexion with this masque. Here is an +extract, containing the passage from _Byron's Tragedie_:-- + + _Love_. For thy sake, Will, I feathered all my thoughts + And in a bird's shape flew in to her bosome, + The bosome of _Desert_, thy beautious Mistris, + As if I had been driven by the hauke + In that sweet sanctuary to save my liffe. + She smild on me, cald me her prety bird, + And for her sport she tyed my little legs + In her faire haire. Proud of my golden fetters + I chirped for Joy; she confident of my lameness, + Soon disintangled me & then she percht me + Upon her naked breast. There being ravishd + I sung with all my cheere and best of skill. + She answered note for note, relish for relish, + And ran division with such art and ease + That she exceeded me. + + _Judgment_. There was rare musicke. + + _Love_. In this swete strife, forgetting where I stood. + I trod so hard in straining of my voice + That with my claw I rent her tender skin; + Which as she felt and saw vermillion follow + Stayning the cullor of _Adonis_ bleeding + In _Venus_ lap, with indignation + She cast me from her. + + _Will_. That fortune be to all that injure her. + + _Love_. Then I put on this shepheards shape you see; + I tooke my bow and quiver as in revenge + Against the birds, shooting and following them + From tre to tre. She passing by beheld + And liked the sport. I offerrd her my prey, + Which she receved and asked to feele my bowe; + Which when she handled and beheld the beauty + Of my bright arrowes, she began to beg em. + I answered they were all my riches, yet + I was content to hazard all and stake em + Downe to a kiss at a game at chess with her. + "Wanton," quoth she, being privy to her skill, + "A match!" Then she with that dexterrytey + Answered my challenge that I lost my weapons: + Now _Cupides_ shaffts are headed with her lookes. + My mother soone perceiving my disgrace, + My Arms beinge lost and gon which made me a terror + To all the world, she tooke away my wings, + Renouncd me for her child and cast me from her; + And more, to be revengd upon _Desert_, + Comanded _Danger_ to be her strong keeper, + That should she empt my quiver at the hearts + Of men they might not dare to court her, fearing + That horrid mischiefe that attends [on] her. + On this I threw me headlong on the sea + To sleepe my tyme out in the bottome off it; + Whence you have puld me up to be a scorne + To all the World. + + _Will_. Not so, my prety boy, Ill arme the againe; + My breast shall be thy quiver, my sighes thy shaffts: + And heres an opportunytey to be wingd againe; + Se here the wings of _Fortune_. + + _Love_. _Fortunes_ wings + Are full of giddy feathers to unsure + For me to fly with all, but I will stay with you, + I like so well this aire; onely you must + Provide to keepe me from the hands of _Danger_ + That wayts upon _Dessert_. + + _Will_. Our selfes and all + _Arcadia_ shall be your guard and wher + _Love_ passes and recides he shall be allwayes + Armd and attended by a band of lovers, + Such faithfull ones as if that ugly _Danger_ + Were _Lucifer_ himselfe, they should defend you. + +Next on our List (leaves 224-244) is the _Two Noble Ladyes, or the +Converted Conjurer_. This "Tragicomicall Historie often tymes acted with +approbation at the _Red Bull_ in St. _John's_ Streete by the company of +the Revells," is a coarse noisy play. The comic part consists of the +most absurd buffoonery, and the rest is very stilted. But there is one +scene--and one only--which shows genuine poetic power. It is where +_Cyprian_, the sorcerer, having by his magical arts saved _Justina_, a +Christian maiden, tries to gain her love:-- + + _Enter Cyprian and Justina_. + + _Cyprian_. Doe not disdayne, faire peece of Natures pride, + To heare him plead for love that sav'd thy life. + It was my pow'rfull arte produc'd those monsters + To drowne those monstrous executioners + That should have wrought your wracke. + + _Justina_. Sir, I am sorry + Hell had a hand in my delivery: + That action cannot merrit my affection. + + _Cyprian_. I not alleadge it for desert of grace + But argument of mercie: pitty him + That in distresse so lately pitty'd you. + + _Justina_. I am the troth-plight wife of _Clitophon_, + The Prince of _Babylon_; hee has my hart, + And theres no share for others. + + _Cyprian_. That high state + Is now at a low ebbe: destruction + Hangs like a threatning Commet ore the walls + Of _Babilon_. Then fix thy love on him + That can more then the greatest prince on earth. + Love mee, and princes shall thy pages bee; + Monarchs shall lay their crownes and royalties + As presents at thy feet; the _Indian_ mynes + Shall be thy ioyntures; all the worldes rich marchants + Shall bring their pearles and pretious stones to thee, + Sweet gums and spices of _Arabia_, + Fine _Median_ linnen and Barbarian silkes; + The earth shall beare no fruit of raritie + But thou shalt taste it. Weele transforme ourselves + In quaintest shapes to vary our delights. + And in a chariot wrought out of a cloud, + Studded with starres, drawne through the subtle aire + By birds of paradise, wee'll ride together + To fruitfull _Thessalie_, where in fair _Tempe_ + (The only pleasant place of all the earth) + Wee'll sport us under a pavilion + Of _Tyrian_ scarlet. + + _Justina_. Should these rarities + (Faithlesse as are your wondrous promises) + Lead me into the hazard of my soule + And losse of such ay-lasting happinesse + As all earths glories are but shaddows to? + + _Cyprian_. Thincke you this rare pile of perfection. + Wherein Love reads a lecture of delight, + Ows not it's use to Nature? There is love + In every thing that lives: the very sunne + Does burne in love while we partake his heate; + The clyming ivy with her loving twines + Clips the strong oake. No skill of surgerie + Can heale the wounds, nor oceans quench the flames + Made by all pow'rfull love. Witnesse myselfe: + Since first the booke of your perfections + Was brought so neare than I might read it ore, + I have read in it charmes to countermand + All my enchantments and enforce mee stoop + To begge your love. + + _Justina_. How ere you please to style + A lustfull appetite, it takes not mee. + Heav'n has my bow my life shall never bee + Elder then my unstain'd virginitie. + + _Cyprian_. Virginitie! prize you so dearely that + Which common things cast of? Marke but the flow'rs + That now as morning fresh, fragrant and faire, + Lay ope their beautys to the courting sunne, + And amongst all the modest mayden rose: + These wanton with the aire until unleavd + They die and so loose their virginitie. + + _Justina_. In _India_ there is a flow'r (they say) + Which, if a man come neare it, turnes away: + By that I learne this lesson, to descrie + Corrupt temptations and the tempter flie. + +Leaves 245-267 are taken up with the _Tragedy of Nero_, which was +printed in 1624. Then comes [Daborne's] _Poore Man's Comfort_ +(268-292), an inferior play printed in 1655. Afterwards follows a dull +play (leaves 293-316), _Loves Changlelings Changed_, founded on Sidney's +_Arcadia_. The last piece in the book (leaves 317-349) is _The +lancheinge of the May_, Written by W.M. Gent in his return from _East +India_, A.D. 1632. There is a second title, _The Seamans honest wife_, +to this extraordinary piece. On the last leaf is a note by Sir Henry +Herbert:--"This Play called ye _Seamans honest wife_, all ye Oaths +left out in ye action as they are crost in ye booke & all other +Reformations strictly observed, may bee acted, not otherwise. This 27th +June, 1633. HENRY HERBERT. + +"I command your Bookeeper to present mee with a faire Copy hereaft[er] +and to leave out all oathes, prophaness & publick Ribaldry as he will +answer it at his perill. H. HERBERT." + +It is plain therefore that the piece was intended for presentation on +the stage; but it must have been a strange audience that could have +listened to it. Dramatic interest there is none whatever. The piece is +nothing more, than a laudation of the East India Company. In tables of +statistics we have set before us the amount of merchandise brought from +the East; and the writer dwells with enthusiasm on the liberality of the +Company, and shows how new channels have been opened for industry. One +extract will be enough:-- + + Nor doe our marchants tradinge into Spayne, + The _Streights_, to _Venice_, _Lisbon_ or the like, + Give entertaynment unto novices + Which have not some experience of the sea. + But when all doors of Charitie are shutt + The _East India_ gates stand open, open wide, + To entertayne the needie & the poore + With good accomodation. Two monthes paye + They have before hand for to make provision, + Needfull provision for so longe a voyage, + And two monthes paye theyr wives are yearely payd + The better to mayntayne theyr poore estate + Duringe the discontinuance of theyr husbands. + Yf in the voyage he doe chance to [MS. doe] dye + The widowe doth receave whatere's found due, + Yf not by will disposed otherwise; + Which often happeneth to be such a sume + As they togeather never sawe the like. + And when did any of these widowes begge + For mayntenaunce in Churches as some doe? + _Blackwall_ proclaymes theyr bountie; _Lymehouse_ speakes + (Yf not ingrate) their liberalitie; + _Ratcliffe_ cannot complayne nor _Wapping_ weepe, + Nor _Shadwell_ crye agaynst theyr niggardnes. + No, they doe rather speake the contrary + With acclamations to the highest heavens. + + + + +APPENDIX II. + + +The following note is by Mr. Robert Boyle, of St. Petersburg, a +Shakespearian scholar, whose name is well known to readers of the +_Anglia_ and the _New Shakspere Society's Transactions_. Mr. Boyle, who +has a close acquaintance with Massinger, on seeing the proof-sheets of +_Sir John Van Olden Barnavelt_, pointed out several repetitions of +expressions used in other plays of Massinger. It will be understood that +I do not adopt Mr. Boyle's conclusions unreservedly. Possibly in an +Appendix to Vol. IV. I may return to a consideration of _Barnavelt_, but +the present volume has already swollen beyond its limits. + + +_Sir John Van Olden Barnavelt_. + +This play, the most valuable Christmas present English scholars have for +half a century received, appears indubitably to belong to the Massinger +and Fletcher series. Even a cursory glance will convince the reader that +it is one of the greatest treasures of our dramatic literature. That +such a gem should lie in manuscript for over 200 years, should be +catalogued in our first library, should be accessible to the eye of the +prying scholar, and yet never even be noticed till now, affords a +disagreeable but convincing proof of the want of interest in our early +literature displayed even by those whose studies in this field would +seem to point them out for the work of rescuing these literary treasures +from a fate as bad as that which befell those plays which perished at +the hands of Warburton's "accursed menial." The present play has some +remarkable features in it. It is taken from contemporary history (the +only one as far as we know of that class in which Massinger was +engaged). It was written almost immediately after the events it +describes. These events took place in the country in which Englishmen +then took more interest than in any other country in Europe. There is a +tone of political passion in the play which, particularly in one place, +breaks out in an expression which the hearers must have applied to their +own country. There is no doubt that the audience wandered away in their +thoughts from Sir John Van Olden Barnavelt, the saviour of his country +from the Spanish yoke, as he professed himself in his defence on his +trial, and Spain's determined enemy, to Sir Walter Raleigh, whose head +had just fallen on the block, the victim of a perfidious foe and of a +mean, shuffling king. The following is the passage:-- + + Octavius, when he did affect the Empire, + And strove to tread upon the neck of Rome + And all her ancient freedoms, took that course + That now is practised on you; for the Catos, + And all free spirits slain or else proscribed, + That durst have stirred against him, he then seized + The Absolute rule of all. _You can apply this_. p. 292. + +In a note Mr. Bullen informs us, that "You can apply this" is crossed +through. He does not state whether there is anything to show that this +was done by Sir George Buck, Master of the Revels, and consequently +Censor for the Stage. But this would appear to be the case, the more so +as the present play seems to have raised scruples in many places in the +mind of the dramatic Cerberus. It is hardly possible to imagine that the +spectators did not apply the "free spirits" to Raleigh, and the "Catos" +to those members who were shortly after to be imprisoned on account of a +memorable protest entered in the journals of the House, which Octavius, +who was trying to seize the absolute rule of all, tore out with his own +royal hands. There is a peculiar fitness in this hit at James as +Octavius which probably did not escape the audience. There is another +passage, on p. 253, which, singular to say, seems to have escaped the +notice of the Censor:-- + + Such mild proceedings in a Government + New settled, whose main power had its dependence + Upon the power of some particular men, + Might be given way to, but in ours it were + Unsafe and scandalous. + +Vandort, the speaker here, is opposing the idea of mercy to Barnavelt. +The language is very mild, but receives a peculiar shade of meaning when +read in connexion with the following passage by Massinger from the +_Virgin Martyr_, I. 1, 236:-- + + In all growing empires + Even cruelty is useful; some must suffer + And be set up examples to strike terror + In others, though far off: but when a state + Is raised to her perfection, and her bases + Too firm to shrink, or yield, we may use mercy + And do't with safety. + +The _Virgin Martyr_ is noticed October 6th, 1620, as newly reformed. It +was probably written not long before. The two passages above mentioned +would seem to bring the two plays into connexion. But, it may be asked, +what proof have we that it was a production of Massinger and Fletcher? +As for the latter, there can be no doubt. His double endings are +sufficient proof. As for the Massinger part, there is first the +probability of his being Fletcher's partner, as the play belongs to a +period when we know they were working together; secondly, the metrical +style could belong to nobody else; thirdly, according to his well-known +manner, he has allusions to and repetitions of expressions in his other +plays. As I have gone through Massinger with a view to these +repetitions, I propose to notice those that occur in the present play. +When I allude to a play going under the name of Beaumont and Fletcher as +partly Massinger's, I am supported either by Mr. Fleay's tables, +published in the _Transactions of the New Shakspere Society_, or to my +own extension of these tables published in the _Eng. Studien_, a German +periodical for English literature and philology. + +Act I. The First Scene is by Massinger, who almost always begins the +joint plays. On page 210 we have-- + + When I should pass with glory to my rest. + +Compare _Virgin Martyr_, V. 2. 319. + + When thou shouldst pass with honour to thy rest. + +On page 211, + + And end that race + You have so long run strongly, like a child, + +is a repetition of the idea in _Virgin Martyr_. On page 212 "Grave +Maurice"; here "Grave" is Count Maurice, who is also so called in +_Love's Cure_, I. 2. Bobadilla's speech. (_Love's Cure_ is by Massinger +and another author, not Fletcher.) + +Page 213. + + The desire of glory + Was the last frailty wise men ere put off. + +This occurs again in _A Very Woman_, V. 4, line 10,-- + + Though the desire of fame be the last weakness + Wise men put off. + +Though the thought occurs in Tacitus and Simplicius, Milton seems to +have adopted it, as he has done many other of his most striking +passages from Massinger. It occurs also in at least one other play of +Massinger's, but the passage has escaped me for the moment. + +Same page:-- + + 'Tis like yourself, + Like Barnavelt, and in that all is spoken. + +An expression which, with a slight change from "spoken" to +"comprehended," occurs in almost every one of Massinger's plays. + +Act I. Scene 2, is also by Massinger. On page 218,-- + + We need not add this wind by our observance + To sails too full already. + +This reminds us of the common Massinger simile,-- + + Too large a sail for your small bark. + +And _Virg. Mar_., I. 1. 85,-- + + You pour oil + On fire that burns already at the height. + +Both similes occur in almost all Massinger's plays. + +The situation on page 219 has a striking resemblance to a similar scene +with Cranmer in _Henry VIII_. Both Maurice and Cranmer are to be +disgraced by being kept waiting outside while their enemies were at +Council. I cannot help here repeating what I have expressed before, that +_Henry VIII_. as we have it is not the work of Shakespeare and Fletcher, +but of Massinger and Fletcher, with only fragments of the Shakespeare +play. + +Act I. Scene 3, is by Fletcher. + +Act II. Scene 1, is by Massinger. + +On page 231 we have,-- + + When the hot lyon's breath + Burns up the fields. + +Compare _Parliament of Love_, I. 5., Montrose,-- + + When the hot lion's breath singeth the fields. + +A little lower down, "At all parts" occurs in almost every play of +Massinger. + +On page 232, "This I foresaw," is also very common in similar +situations. Among numerous cases I refer to the _Unnatural Combat_, Act +III., about the end, and _Maid of Honour_, II. iii., where exactly the +same words are used. + +Page 233, "Be ne'er remembered," occurs in almost all Massinger's plays. +It is the most frequent of his many repetitions. + +A little lower down. "And something there I'll do," is a well-known +Massingerism, occurring everywhere in his plays. + +II. 2, is by Fletcher; 3, and 4, 5, 6, 7 are also probably his. + +III. 1, is Fletcher's. On page 250 Barnavelt's hope that the soldiers +will regret him because he fed and nursed them, stands in flagrant +opposition to what Massinger says of Barnavelt's cashiering the Captain, +on page 215. + +III. 2, is by Massinger. + +Page 252, "But that is not the hazard that I would shun," is one of the +commonest Massingerisms. The passage on page 253 has been mentioned +already. Massinger is almost the only later dramatist who has a large +number of dissyllable "tions." We have here (253),-- + + Of what condi_ti-on_ soever, we + Palliate seditions. + +His share of the present play presents many such cases. + +III. 3, seems also by Massinger. + +III. 4, is by Fletcher. On page 263 there is an unmistakable +reminiscence of _Henry VIII_., Wolsey's "Farewell." + +III. 5 (also marked 4), is by Massinger. On page 264 occurs, "At no +part," one of the commonest Massingerisms; and a little lower down,-- + + Ever maintained + The freedom I was born to. + +Compare _Great Duke of Florence_, I. 1-4,-- + + For I must use the freedom I was born with. + +It also occurs in other Massinger plays. + +III. 6, is by Fletcher. + +IV. 1, is by Fletcher. + +IV. 2, is by Fletcher. + +IV. 3, is by Fletcher. Here occurs another allusion to _Henry VIII_.,-- + + And glide away + Like a spent exhalation. + +Compare _Henry VIII_., III. 2, 226:-- + + shall fall + Like a bright exhalation in the evening. + +Fletcher does not repeat himself often, and these two exceptions are +important. + +IV. 4, is apparently by Massinger, but contains no repetitions. + +IV. 5, is by Massinger. There are no clear Massingerisms, but the +metrical style, and the allusion to Raleigh already mentioned, make it +plain that the Scene is his. + +V. 1, is also Massinger's. The end of this Scene I have not seen, as +pages 296-305 were missing in the proof-sheets I examined. Nearly all +Scene 2 is also missing. It and the rest of the play seem to be +Fletcher's, who, as usual, spoiled Massinger's fine conception of +Barnavelt, and makes him whine like Buckingham in _Henry VIII_. This +moral collapse of all energy in the face of death in the two characters +is significant. Massinger would have carried out the scene in quite +another tone. Some of the Fletcher scenes in this play, in which he has +an unusually large share, are surprisingly good, and remind us of +Fletcher at his best, in _Philaster_ and the earlier plays. He fails +here, as he always does, in the delineation of character. Nowhere is +this break-down more characteristic than in Buckingham and Barnavelt. It +gives the end of our play quite a wrench, and deprives Barnavelt of the +sympathies which we had been forced to turn on him through his intrepid +behaviour in the great trial scene. We had almost gained the conviction +that his aims were really pure, and here we are called on to witness his +utter collapse, in which he almost whines for pardon for his sins, and, +like all worthless fellows without character seems actually to soften in +gratitude to the man who sent him to his death. + +This conclusion, I say, weakens the dramatic power of the close, but it +does not prevent Sir John Barnavelt from occupying a high place among +our dramatic treasures. R. BOYLE. + +ST. PETERSBURG, +New Year's Eve, 1882. + + +FINIS. + + + + +FOOTNOTES: + + +[1] Vid. Appendix. + +[2] Reprinted in Mrs. Bray's _Tamar and the Tavy_. + +[3] Printed in _The Court and Times uf Charles the First_, &c. Edited, +with an introduction and notes, by the author of _Memoirs of Sophia +Dorothea, Consort of George I_., &c. (Vol. i. p. 104. London, 1848.) +8vo. + +[4] Mr. Fleay thinks that _Dick of Devonshire_ was written by +R. Davenport. "The conduct of the plot," he observes, "the +characterisation, the metre, the language are very like the _City +Nightcap_." The reader must judge between us. I find it difficult to +believe that Davenport could have preserved throughout five acts such +clear directness of style. + +[5] The old form of "pop-gun." + +[6] Xeres. + +[7] Cadiz. + +[8] Span. picaro, a rogue or thief. Nares quotes several instances of +"picaro" and "picaroon" from our early writers. + +[9] It would be an improvement to read "enkindled," or "kindled at the +first." + +[10] Cf. Heywood's _Faire Maid of the West_: part one (Works, II. 306), +"And joyne with you a ginge of lusty ladds." The meaning is "band, +company." The word is not uncommon among Elizabethan writers, and is +also found much earlier. + +[11] Span. caraca, a ship of large size. Nares quotes from Beaumont and +Fletcher. + +[12] Halliwell quotes Minsheu: "The Spanish _borachoe_, or bottle +commonly of a pigges skinne, with the haire inward, dressed inwardly +with rozen and pitch to keepe wine or liquor sweet." Hence the word came +to be applied to a drunkard. + +[13] A stately Spanish dance. Nares' article sub. 'Pavan' is full and +interesting. + +[14] The repetition of the words "such a" is probably a clerical error: +the Alexandrine is clumsy. + +[15] Skirmishers or sharpshooters. + +[16] Nares quotes from Taylor's _Workes_, 1630:--"So horseman-ship +hath the trot, the amble, the _racke_, the pace, the false and wild +gallop, or the full speed," &c. + +[17] Street bullies, such as are introduced in Nabbes' _Bride_, +Middleton and W. Rowley's _Fair Quarrel_, &c. The exploits of a "Roaring +Girl" are admirably set forth by Dekker and Middleton. + +[18] The full form "God refuse me" occurs in Webster's _White Devil_ +(ed. 1871, p. 7), where Dyce quotes from Taylor, the water poet: "Would +so many else in their desperate madnes desire God to Damne them, to +Renounce them, to Forsake them, to Confound them, to Sinke them, to +_Refuse_ them?" "_Against Cursing and Swearing_," _Works_, 1630. + +[19] "The Saturday Night, some sixteen sail of the Hollanders, and about +ten White Hall Men (who in England are called Colliers) were commanded +to fight against the Castle of Punthal, standing three miles from Cadiz: +who did so accordingly; and discharged in that service, at the least, +1,600 shot." _Three to One_, &c. (Arber's _English Garner_, I. 626). + +[20] Sc. companions: _Mids. Night's Dream_, III., i.; Shirley's +_Wedding_, k. v., &c. + +[21] Middleton says somewhere (in A Fair Quarrel, I think):-- + + "The Infinity of Love + Holds no proportion with Arithmetick." + +[22] To "look babies in the eyes" was a common expression for peering +amorously into the eyes. + +[23] Sc. fagot. + +[24] "Barleybreake" (the innocent sport so gracefully described in the +first book of the _Arcadia_) is often used in a wanton sense. + +[25] A common form of expression. Everybody remembers Puck's-- + + "I'll put a girdle round about the earth + In forty minutes." + +Cf. Chapman's _Bussy D'Ambois_, I. 1.-- + + "In tall ships, richly built and ribd with brasse, + To put a Girdle round about the world." + +[26] Furnished with "bosses," which seem to have been the name for some +tinkling metal ornaments. Nares quotes from Sp. _Moth. Hub_. I. 582:-- + + "The mule all deck'd in goodly rich array, + With bells and bosses that full loudly rung." + +[27] Cf. _Spanish Tragedy_, sc. vi.:-- + + "A man hanging and _tottering_ and _tottering_, + As you know the wind will wave a man." + +(Quoted by Mr. Fleay in illustration of the "tottering colours" in _King +John_, v. 5, 7.) + +[28] One is reminded of Shakespeare's-- + + "Had I _as many sons as I have hairs_, + I would not wish them to a fairer death."--_Macbeth_, v. 8. + +[29] "That e'er o'erclouded," I should prefer. + +[30] MS. _Exit_. + +[31] Eringoes are often mentioned as a provocative by early writers: +_Merry Wives_, v. 5, &c. + +[32] Sc. mallet. + +[33] Sc. I lying in my _trundle-bed_. + +[34] To "make ready" is to dress; so to "make unready" is to undress. +The expression was very common. + +[35] A large salt-cellar was placed in the middle of the table: guests +of importance sat "above the salt," inferior guests below. Abundant +illustrations are given in Nares' Glossary. + +[36] In Brand's _Popular Antiquities_ (Bohn's _Antiq. Libr_., II. 70-77) +there is an interesting article on "Groaning Cake and Cheese." + +[37] A large coach: the derivation of the word is uncertain. + +[38] The next word is illegible in the MS. We should have expected +"_Exeunt Fer., Man., & attendants_." + +[39] Vid. vol. i. 307. + +[40] The schoolmen's term for the confines of hell. + +[41] I have followed the punctuation of the MS., though I am tempted to +read, "What to doe? pray with me?" + +[42] A stage-direction for the next scene. + +[43] Sc. bravadoes. + +[44] The biting of the thumb is here a mark of vexation: to bite one's +thumb _at_ a person was considered an insult (_Rom. and Jul_., i. 1). + +[45] A diminutive of "cock" (_Tempest_, ii. 1, &c.). + +[46] The conceit is very common. Compare (one of many instances) +Dekker's _Match me in London_, iv. 1-- + + "You oft call Parliaments, and there enact + Lawes good and wholesome, such as who so breake + Are hung by the purse or necke, but as the weake + And smaller flyes i'th Spiders web are tane + When great ones teare the web, and free remain." + +[47] The reading of the MS. is "snapsance," which is clearly wrong. +"Snaphance was the name for the spring-lock of a musket, and then for +the musket itself. It is said that the term was derived from the Dutch +_snap-haans_ (poultry stealers), a set of marauders who made use of it" +(_Lilly's Dramatic Works_, ed. Fairholt, II., 272). "Tarrier" must mean +"a person that causes delay": cf. a passage from Sir Thomas Overbury's +character of "a meene Petty fogger":--"He cannot erre before judgment, +and then you see it, only _writs of error_ are the _tariers_ that keepe +his client undoing somewhat the longer" (quoted in Todd's _Johnson_, sub +_tarrier_). + +[48] "One being condemned to be shot to death for a rape: the maid [sic] +in favour of his life was content to beg him for her husband. Which +being condiscended unto by the Judge, _according to the lawe of Spaine +in that behalfe_: in steps me the hangman all in a chafe and said unto +the Judge. Howe (I pray you, sir) can that be, seeing the stake is +already in the ground, the rope, the arrowes, the Archers all in a +readines, and heere I am come for him." (Anthony Copley's _Wits, Fits, +and Fancies_, 1614, p. 120.) Here is another merry tale, with rather +more point in it, from the same collection:--"A fellow being to suffer, +a maide came to the gallowes to beg him for her husband, according as +the custome of _Spaine_ dispenceth in that case. The people seeing this +said unto the fellow: Now praise God that he hath thus mercifullie +preserv'd thee, and see thou ever make much of this kinde woman that so +friendly saves thy life. With that the Fellow viewing her and seeing a +great skarre in her face, which did greatlie disfigure her, a long nose, +thin lips and of a sowre complexion, hee said unto the Hangman: On (my +good friend) doe thy duty: Ile none of her." (p. 160.) + +[49] Cf. _Rom. and Jul_., I., iii., 76, "Why, he's a man of wax," where +Dr. Ingleby (who has no doubt learnt better by this time) once took the +meaning to be, "a man of puberty, a proper man." Steevens happily +compared Horace's "_cerea_ Telephi brachia." + +[50] The old spelling for "bawbles." + +[51] "Slug. A ship which sails badly." Halliwell. I cannot recall +another instance of the use of the word in this sense. + +[52] The "trundle-bed" (or "truckle-bed") was a low bed moving on +castors. In the day-time it was placed under the principal or "high" +bed: at night it was drawn out to the foot of the larger bed. Vid. +Nares, sub "truckle bed" and "trundle bed." + +[53] The reading of the MS. is unintelligible. For _All_. I would read +_Alq_., and for "Law you?"--by a very slight change--"Love you?" (the +question being addressed to Henrico). Then what follows is intelligible. + +[54] "Flay" is usually, if not always, written "flea" in old authors. + +[55] MS. "For 3 hellish sins:" the word "For" is no doubt repeated from +_Fer_. + +[56] The passage might be tortured into verse, somewhat as follows:-- + + "Nay but + Shall I not be acquainted with your designe? + When we must marry, + Faith, to save charges of two wedding dinners, + Lets cast so that one day may yield us bridegroome,-- + I to the daughter, thou to the mother." + +[57] We ought, no doubt, to read "professed,"--a trisyllable. + +[58] An allusion is intended to the tailor's "hell,"--the hole under the +counter. + +[59] _Vide_ note on Vol. I., p. 175. + +[60] MS. tracning. + +[61] In the MS. the stage direction has been altered to "Enter Sir +Gefferie & Bunche." The whole of the colloquy between Sucket and Crackby +is marked as if to be omitted. Doubtless this was one of the +"reformacons" made at the instance of the Master of the Revels. + +[62] Such would seem to be the reading of the MS., but it is not +quite plain. I suspect that the true reading is "tripe-wives" (cf. +oysterwives, &c.). + +[63] I.e., Besár las manos (hand-kissing). + +[64] MS. "will." + +[65] Perhaps we should rather read:-- + + "Fie, Sister; + 'Tis a pretty gent[leman], I know you love him." + +[66] The words "I faith" have been crossed out in the MS.--as being +irreverent. + +[67] MS. "whom." + +[68] Cf. _The Ladies Privilege_, i. 1. (Glapthorne's Works, ii. 99)-- + + "For my services + Pay me with pricelesse treasure of a kisse, + While from the balmy fountaynes of thy lips + Distils a moisture precious as the Dew + The amorous bounty of the morne + Casts on the Roses cheeke." + +[69] In the MS. the word "witnes" has been crossed out and "vouchers" +substituted. + +[70] The introductory part of this scene, up to the entrance of the +steward, had been omitted by the copyist and is added on the last leaf +of the play. + +[71] In the margin we find the words "Well said, Mr. Steward: a good +observation." + +[72] "Pride" has been crossed out in the MS. + +[73] "What? does he plucke it out of his Codpeece? Yes, here lyes all +his affeccon."--Marginal note in MS. + +[74] "A verrie politique drunkard"--"I think the barrell of Hedlebergs +in his bellye."--Marginal notes in MS. + +[75] "Tis well his friends here to reconcile ... ... for assault and +battery elce."--the other words in the marginal note are illegible. + +[76] "It were but cast away on such a beast as thou art." Marginal note. + +[77] To "take in" is a common phrase for "to take by storm." + +[78] Pappenheim fell at the battle of _Lützen_, November 16, 1632; but +there had been fighting at _Maestricht_ in the earlier part of the year. + +[79] MS. pdue. + +[80] The first reading was--"Hold, hold, good Captaine, tis our most +temperate Steward." + +[81] 'Heere, here' is a correction (in the MS.) for 'what then?' + +[82] MS. Trime. + +[83] These words are crossed out in the MS. + +[84] Therefore this play would seem to have been acted at the +Whitefriars, i.e. at the Salisbury Court theatre. (F.G. Fleay.) + +[85] The "jig" seems to have been a comic after-piece consisting of +music and dancing. In Mr. Collier's _Hist. of Dram. Lit_., iii. 180-85 +(new ed.), the reader will find much curious information on the point. +The following passage from Shirley's _Love in a Maze_ (1632) is not +noticed by Mr. Collier:-- + + "Many gentlemen + Are not, as in the days of understanding, + Now satisfied without a jig, which since + They cannot, with their honour, call for after + The Play, they look to be serv'd up in the middle: + Your dance is the best language of some comedies + And footing runs away with all; a scene + Express'd with life of art and squared to nature + Is dull and phlegmatic poetry." + +--Works (ed. Gifford and Dyce), ii. 339. + +[86] MS. him. + +[87] The name of the musician, I suppose; but the reading of the MS. is +somewhat illegible. + +[88] The passage at first ran as follows: "Umh, how long have I slept, +or am I buried and walke in Elizium as the poets faine? Goe to, where +are they? in the ayre? I can percieve nothing nor remember anything has +been don or said!" + +[89] '_Grimes_. Soe, now retire a little. Ile play him one fitt of +mirthe on my trebble to rouse him. _Ext_.' These words occur in the +left-hand margin. Probably they should stand here in the text 'Ext.' may +mean either '_exeunt_' (musicians) or '_exit_' (_Grimes_ to disguise +himself). + +[90] 'Who are these! ha! the towne waits? why, how now, my masters, whats +the matter, ha?'--Passage cancelled in MS. + +[91] 'Bakside' is a correction (in the MS.) for 'buttock.' + +[92] "Here Gent[lemen], share this amongst yee and pray for Grimes." +These words (addressed to the musicians) follow in the MS. but have been +scored through. + +[93] The MS. gives "aurescion." + +[94] The reading of the MS. seems to be "inuolute." Mr. Fleay suggests +"invocate." + +[95] The repetition of 'loath' in the next line is suspicious. + +[96] The arrangement of the verse is not easy: perhaps we should read-- + + 'Wishes for husband. + A proper Gent[leman]; Ime happy + She has made so iuditious an election.' + +Our author usually makes a trisyllable of "gentleman"; here it counts +only as a monosyllable. + +[97] Between this word and the next there is a mark of omission in the +MS., and the words "t'were Sir" have been written above. + +[98] What follows, to the entrance of _Thurston_, is marked to be +omitted. I have thought fit to restore it to the text. "Here's Mr. +_Thurston,"_ concludes Clariana's speech. + +[99] Cf. a similar passage in Glapthorne's _Wit in a Constable_ +(Works, I. 182):-- + + "a limber fellow, + Fit onely for deare _Nan_, his schoole-fellow, + A Grocer's daughter borne in _Bread-street_, with + Whom he has used to goe to _Pimblico_ + And spend ten groats in cakes and Christian ale." + +From Shirley we learn that the apprentices took their pleasure +in the mild form of treating their sweethearts to cream and +prunes:-- + + "You have some festivals, I confess, but when + They happen, you run wild to the next village, + Conspire a knot and club your groats apiece + For cream and prunes, not daring to be drunk." + (_Honoria and Mammon_, v. i.). + +Pimlico seems to have been a place near Hoxton famous for its ales and +custards; cf. Mayne's _City Match_, II. 6.-- + + "Nay, captain, we have brought you + A gentleman of valour, who has been + In Moorfields often: marry it has been + To squire his sisters and demolish custards + At Pimlico." + +There is an unique tract entitled "Pimlyco or Runne Red cap, 'tis a mad +world at Hoggesden," 1609. + +[100] I cannot find that "bob" is used as a technical term in falconry. +Mr. Fleay suggests that a "bob'd hawke" merely means a "hawk cheated +of her prey." I rather think the meaning is a "hawk beaten or repulsed +by her prey." + +[101] From "A Kalendar of the English Church," p. 45 (Rivingtons: n.d., +but 1865), one learns that "Marriage is restrained by Law at the +following times unless with a License or Dispensation from the Bishop +of the Diocese, his Chancellor, or Commissary, viz., from Advent Sunday +until eight days after the Epiphany; from Septuagesima until eight days +after Easter; and from the Monday in Rogation week until Trinity +Sunday." + +[102] I venture to insert the word "poet": both sense and metre are +defective without it. + +[103] In the MS. "thee" is corrected into "you." + +[104] Some words have been cut away. + +[105] MS. throng. + +[106] "_Thu_. And here she comes, I feare me"--crossed out in the MS. + +[107] Here a line follows in the MS:-- + + "And verely she is much to blame in it." + +It is crossed through, and rightly. + +[108] "Puny" is not uncommonly spelt "puisne" (Fr. puisné) in old +authors. + +[109] The metre requires "unman[ner]ly." + +[110] MS. have. + +[111] MS. puisants. + +[112] The "Artillery Garden" was situated in Finsbury Fields, where also +was the place of exercise for the City Trained Bands. In the +"Antiquarian Repertory" (ed. 1807), i. 251-270, the reader will find an +interesting account of the Trained Bands and the Artillery Company. Old +writers are fond of sneering at the City warriors. The following passage +is from Shirley's "Witty Fair One," v. 1:--"There's a spruce captain +newly crept out of a gentleman-usher and shuffled into a buff jerkin +with gold lace, that never saw service beyond Finsbury or the +Artillery-Garden, marches wearing a desperate feather in his lady's +beaver, while a poor soldier, bred up in the school of war all his life, +yet never commenced any degree of commander, wants a piece of brass to +discharge a wheaten bullet to his belly." + +[113] _"Vinum muscatum quod moschi odorem referat, propter dulcedinem_, +for the sweetnesse and smell it resembles muske," &c_. Minsheu's _Guide +into Tongues_ (apud Dyce's _Glossary_). + +[114] "Mooncalf" (originally the name for an imperfectly formed foetus) +was used as a term of reproach, like dodypol, nincompoop, ninny, +dunderhead, &c. + +[115] _Sc_. trifling fellow, noodle. + +[116] The blades from Bilboa in Spain were esteem'd as highly as those +of Toledo manufacture. + +[117] MS. two. + +[118] "Striker" is a cant term for a losel, a wencher. + +[119] "Mew" is a falconer's term for the place where a hawk is confined. + +[120] This passage is repeated in _The Ladies Privilege_, at the end of +Act I. + +[121] "Curst" is an epithet applied to shrewish women and vicious +beasts. + +[122] This is the prettiest passage, I think, to be found in Glapthorne. + +[123] MS. me. + +[124] "Oh me" is crossed out, and "once" written above. + +[125] The passage is bracketed in the MS., and was probably meant to be +omitted. + +[126] MS. Its. + +[127] Throughout the scene "judge" is substituted in the MS. for +"recorder." + +[128] MS. know. + +[129] This passage is bracketed in the MS. It could hardly have been +expected to escape official censure. + +[130] MS. led. + +[131] Bracketed in MS. + +[132] Early Greek writers held up the Scythians as models of justice and +simplicity (Iliad, xiii. 6, &c.). Clearchus (apud Athen., xii. 27) +accuses them of cruelty, voluptuous living, and viciousness of every +kind; but, in justice to the Scythians, it should be added that in his +"animadversiones" to the "Deipnosophists" (when will somebody complete +and print Dyce's translation?) the learned Schweighaeuser in no measured +language accuses Clearchus of wanton recklessness and gross inaccuracy. + +[133] "What is the matter there? looke to the prisoners," was the first +reading. + +[134] The passage is bracketed in the MS. + +[135] Erased in MS. + +[136] Before correction the passage stood "And now, madam, being your +servant and _Timothy_ I bring you newes!" The words "Stay, stay Mr. +Justice," &c., were inserted afterwards. + +[137] Bracketed in MS. + +[138] The reading of the MS. appears to be "a lonly." + +[139] Bracketed in MS. + +[140] The MS. is a folio of thirty-one leaves, written in a small clear +hand: it was purchased for the National Library in 1851 from the Earl of +Denbigh. + +[141] In May, 1622, "by reason of sickness and indisposition of body +wherewith it had pleased God to visit him, he had become incapable of +fulfilling the duties and was compelled to resign."--Vid. Collier's +"Hist. Eng. Dram. Lit." I. 402 (new ed.). + +[142] Mr. Warner, of the Manuscript Department of the British Museum, to +whom we owe the excellent Catalogue of the Dulwich Collection, kindly +drew my attention to the autograph letter. + +[143] In the right-hand margin we find "Jo: R: migh."--the names of the +actors who took the Captains' parts. Further on the name "Jo: Rice" +occurs in full. John Rice stands last on the list of Chief Actors in the +first fol. Shakespeare. The reader will find an account of him in +Collier's "Hist. of Eng. Dram. Lit.," iii. 486-88. It is curious that he +should have taken so unimportant a part; but perhaps he sustained one of +the chief characters besides.--"Migh" = Michael. + +[144] It seems to have been no uncommon thing for officers to keep the +names of soldiers on the list after their death and pocket their pay: +cf. Webster's "Appius and Virginia," v. i., &c. + +[145] The reply of 1 _Cap_., extending to thirteen lines, has been +scored through in the MS., at the instance, I suppose, of the censorious +Master of the Revels; it is, unfortunately, quite illegible. + +[146] The MS. reads "_Enter Barnavelt, Modes-bargen, Leidenberck_, +Vandermetten, _Grotius_, Taurinus, Utenbogart, _Hogebeets_." Names not +in italics are scored through. + +[147] MS. Tau. _Hog_. + +[148] All the characters remain on the stage in spite of this direction. + +[149] At first the line ran, "Of this proud _Prince of Orange_, at the +worst." + +[150] MS. _Enter Pr. of Orange, Gr: Henrie, Gra: William, Collonells & +Captaines. Gr: Henrie_ and _Collonells_ are scored through. In the +right-hand margin is written the name of an actor, _Mr. Rob:_ + +[151] The words "I feele too" probably belong to another speaker. + +[152] Fletcher is fond of using "ye" for "you." + +[153] In the MS. there is a marginal note:--"I like not this: neither do +I think that the pr. was thus disgracefully used, besides he is to much +presented. G.B." The initials are those of Sir George Buc, Master of the +Revels. + +[154] "Shellain" is a corrupted form of Dutch _schelm_--a rogue, +villain. + +[155] The stage direction in the MS. runs thus:--"_Enter 1 Burger, +Vandermitten, Grotius." Vandermitten_ finally takes the place of +1 _Burger_ and _Grotius_. + +[156] Beneath, in the MS., is written the name of the actor who took the +part, "Mr. Gough." + +[157] In the right-hand margin are written the initials "R.T." It is +unknown what actor was the owner of them. + +[158] "Jo: Ri:" is written above, and "migh" in the right-hand margin. + +[159] "Mr. Rob." took the Captain's part. + +[160] This Captain is identical with the one in the previous scene: +"Jo: Rice:" took the part. + +[161] In the MS. _Vandermitten_ is scored through, and _Grotius_ written +above; but the alteration is not followed afterwards. + +[162] "R.T." was responsible for the part. + +[163] In the right-hand margin are the initials "T.P.," i.e. Thomas +Pollard. + +[164] In the right hand margin is a stage-direction, scored through,-- +"Droms--Enter ye Arminians: pass over." + +[165] MS. _Enter Bredero, Vandort_ and 2 Lords. The words in Roman +letters are scored through in the MS. + +[166] The brackets are mine: whoever excluded the 2 _Lords_ left these +words standing by an oversight. + +[167] These weak endings without a pause are characteristic of +Massinger. + +[168] Massinger is fond of the use of parentheses. + +[169] In the MS. _Leiden_ has been corrected into _Roterdam_. + +[170] The officer was personated by "R.T." + +[171] In the right-hand margin we find "Mr. Rice." + +[172] The Captains' parts were taken by "Mr. Rob." and "Mighel." + +[173] The Dutch word _knol_ signifies both a turnip and a blockhead. + +[174] i.e. explain to me. (A very common expression.) + +[175] "Fry" has here the unusual sense of "buzz, hiss." + +[176] In the right-hand margin we find "Cap. Jo: R." + +[177] Underneath is written Migh. who took the part of 1 _Huntsman_. + +[178] "And bycause some Hares by haunting the lowe watrie places do +become foule and mesled, such Hares doe never follow the hard ways nor +make such pathes to their formes, but use all their subtleties and +pollecies by the sides of the Ryvers, brookes and other waters." +Turberville's _Booke of Hunting_ (1575), p. 160. + +[179] "R.T." took the part. + +[180] MS. they. + +[181] "Tho: Po:" (i.e. Thomas Pollard) is written in the right-hand +margin. + +[182] MS. Potents. + +[183] The part was taken by "G. Lowen." + +[184] The Wife's part was taken by "Nich", who may possibly be (as Mr. +Fleay suggests) Nicholas Tooley; but I suspect that a younger actor than +Tooley would have been chosen for the part. + +[185] "Jo: Rice" took the part. + +[186] A corruption of Dutch _kermis_ (the annual fair). + +[187] An ironical expression (very common) of denial or astonishment. + +[188] _Sc_. merrily (Dutch _lustig_), "Lustick, as the Dutchman says." +--_All's Well_, II. 3. + +[189] A corruption of Dutch _brui_. The meaning is "A plague on his +Excellencie!" + +[190] In the MS. follow two and a half lines, spoken by _Vandort_, and a +speech of _Barnavelt's_, twenty-four lines long. These were cancelled on +revision. I have succeeded in reading some of the lines; and perhaps +after a keener scrutiny the whole passage might become legible. But I +have no doubt that the lines were cancelled by the author himself +(Massinger?) in order to shorten the scene. + +[191] Nearly forty lines of dialogue that follow are cancelled in the +MS., in order to shorten the scene. + +[192] Not marked in MS. + +[193] This passage is marked in pencil, as for omission, in the MS. + +[194] The words "Upon my soule" are crossed through in the MS. + +[195] This line and the eleven lines following are marked for omission +in the MS. + +[196] The words "tooke that course That now is practisd on you" are +crossed through in the MS., and "cutt of his opposites" substituted in +the right-hand margin. + +[197] In the MS. the words "you can apply this" are crossed through. + +[198] The words "to a Monarchie" are corrected in the MS. "to another +forme." + +[199] Not marked in MS. + +[200] Not marked in MS. + +[201] T[homas] Holc[ombe] took the part. + +[202] "Mr. Rob." took the part. + +[203] In the right-hand margin we find the actor's name, "Mr. Bir.," +i.e. Bir[ch]. + +[204] "The quantity of ten of any commodity; as a _dicker_ of hides was +ten hides, a _dicker_ of iron ten bars. See 'Fragment. Antiq.,' p. 192. +Probably from _decas_, Lat."--Nares. + +[205] Sc. pumpkin (Fr.). + +[206] "Dewse-ace. _Deux et az_." Cotgrave. (Cf. _Love's Labour's Lost_, +I. 2.) The lowest cast of the dice, two aces, was called "ames ace." + +[207] Among the Romans the highest cast was called _Venus_ and the +lowest _canis_. (Cf. a well-known couplet of Propertius, lib. iv. el. +viii. l. 45-- + + "Me quoque per talos Venerem quaerente secundos + Semper damnosi subsiluere canes.") + +[208] Sc. quatre et trois. + +[209] Embroidered, figured. + +[210] The actors' names, "Mr. Rob." and "Mr. Rice," are written in the +right-hand margin. + +[211] A term of contempt, like "poor John." + +[212] To set up one's rest, meant, as has been abundantly shown by +Shakespearean commentators, to stand upon one's cards at _primero_; but +the word "pull" in this connexion is not at all easy to explain. The +general sense of the present passage is plain: "Is my life held in such +paltry esteem that slaves are allowed to gamble for it as for a stake at +cards?" We have nowhere a plain account of _primero_. When the "Compleat +Gamester" was published (in 1674) the game had been discontinued. The +variety of quotations given by Nares, under _Primero_ and _Rest_, is +simply distracting. There are two passages (apud Nares) of Fletcher's +bearing on the present difficulty:-- + + "My _rest is up_, wench, and I _pull_ for that + Will make me ever famous." _Woman's Prize_, I. 2. + + "Faith, sir, my _rest is up_, + And what I now _pull_ shall no more afflict me + Than if I play'd at span-counter." _Monsieur Thomas_, IV. 9. + +Dyce accepts Nares' suggestion that _pull_ means to _draw a card_; but +if a player is standing on his cards, why should he want to draw a card? +There is an old expression, to "pull down a side," i.e. to ruin one's +partner (by bad play); and I am inclined to think that to "pull at a +rest" in _primero_ meant to try to pull down (beat, go beyond) the +player who was standing on his cards. The first player might say, "My +rest is up"; the other players might either discard or say, "See it"; +then the first player would either "revie" it (cover with a larger sum) +or throw up his cards. At length--for some limitation would have been +agreed upon--the challenger would play his cards, and the opponents +would "pull at his rest"--try to break down his hand. I am not at all +sure that this is the proper explanation; but _pull_ in the text cannot +possibly mean _draw a card_. + +[213] The body of Leydenberg was not exposed until two days after +Barneveld's execution. + +[214] Charles I. was particularly anxious that these trained bands +should be made as efficient as possible, In the "Analytical Index to the +Series of Records known as the Remembrancia" (printed for the +Corporation of the City of London, 1878) there are several letters from +the Lords of the Council to the Lord Mayor on this subject (pp. 533-9). +The Directions sent round to the Lord Lieutenants (An. 1638) concerning +the Trained Bands of the several counties are given in Rushworth's +_Historical Collections_, Part 2, vol. i. p. 790. + +[215] An allusion, of course, to Bardolph's famous definition of +"accommodated" (2 _Henry IV_., iii. 2). + +[216] _Fox_ was a cant term for a sword of English make. At Hounslow +Heath there was a sword-blade manufactory:--"Nov 30 (1639). Benjamin +Stone, blade maker, Hounslow Heath, to the Officers of the Ordnance. +Will always be ready to deliver 1,000 swords of all fashions every month +throughout the year, and will put in such security as the office shall +desire. Has now ready at the Tower and in his own house 2,000 swords to +deliver when the officers shall please."--Calendar of State Papers, +Domestic Series, 1639-40, p. 134. + +[217] _Ticktacks_ was a game somewhat similar to backgammon. It is +described in the _Compleat Gamester_, 1674. + +[218] The Pacification of Berwick took place in June, 1639. + +[219] Tobacco-pipefuls; but no doubt a pun was intended. For _Bermudas_ +tobacco Nares quotes from _Clitus's Whimz_., p. 135, "Where being +furnished with tinder, match, and a portion of decayed _Bermoodus_ they +smoke it most terribly." + +[220] Our forefathers esteemed the March brewing; we the October. + +[221] To "build a sconce" means, I suppose, to fix a candle in a +candle-stick. + +[222] This speech of Sir Richard's is very much in Shirley's style: +cf. _Lady of Pleasure_ (I. 1). + +[223] Galley-foist was the name given to long many-oared barges, +particularly the Lord Mayor's barge of state. Foist is also a term for a +sharper; and gallifoist was intended to be pronounced here gullifoist. + +[224] An account of the way to play _Gleek_ is given in the _Compleat +Gamester_, 1674. + +[225] Ambergrease was not uncommonly used for culinary purposes. + +[226] Father-in-law is often used by old writers for step-father. +Perhaps "by a" is a correction for "to a." + +[227] Title, mark of distinction (Hamlet, I. 4, &c.). + +[228] A head-covering worn by women. "A night-rail (for a woman) pignon, +pinon," Sherwood's Engl.-French Dict. 1650. + +[229] To be "in the suds" was an expression for to be "in the dumps." + +[230] Vid. Notes of the Commentators on _Henry V_., iii. 7 ("strait +trossers"). + +[231] Regals were a kind of small portable organ: vide Nares. + +[232] Cf. a passage in Shirley's _Witty Fair One_ (IV. 2): "What makes +so many scholars then come from Oxford or Cambridge like market-women +with dorsers full of lamentable tragedies and ridiculous comedies which +they might here vent to the players, but they will take no money for +them?" + +[233] The Theorbo was a kind of lute. + +[234] On June 20, 1632, a royal proclamation was made "commanding the +Gentry to keep their Residence in at their Mansions in the Country, and +forbidding them to make their habitations in London and places +adjoining." The text of the proclamation is in Rushworth's Historical +Collections (1680), Pt. II. vol. i. p. 144. In a very interesting little +volume of unpublished poems, temp. Charles I. (MS. 15,228, British +Museum), there is an "Oade by occasion of his Maiesties Proclamatyon for +Gentlemen to goe into the Country." It is too long to quote here in +full, but I will give a few stanzas:-- + + Nor lett the Gentry grudge to goe + Into the places where they grew, + Butt thinke them blest they may doe so: + Who would pursue + + The smoaky gloryes of the Towne, + That might goe till his Native Earth + And by the shineing fyre sitt downe + Of his own hearth; + + Free from the gripeing Scriv'ners bands + And the more biteing Mercers bookes, + Free from the bayte of oyled hands + And painted lookes? + + The Country, too, eene chops for rayne: + You that exhale it by your pow'r, + Let the fatt drops fall downe again + In a full show'r. + + And you, bright beautyes of the time, + That spend your selves here in a blaze, + Fixe to your Orbe and proper Clime + Your wandring Rayes. + + Lett no dark corner of the Land + Bee unimbellisht with one Gemme, + And those which here too thick doe stand + Sprinkle on them. + + And, trust mee, Ladyes, you will find + In that sweet life more sollid joyes, + More true contentment to the minde, + Then all Towne-Toyes. + + Nor Cupid there less blood doth spill, + Butt heads his shafts with chaster love, + Not feath'red with a Sparrow's quill + Butt of a Dove. + + There may you heare the Nightingale, + The harmeless Syren of the wood, + How prettily shee tells a tale + Of rape and blood. + + Plant trees you may and see them shoot + Up with your Children, to bee serv'd + To your cleane Board, and the fayr'st fruite + To bee preserved; + + And learne to use their sev'rall gumms. + Tis innocente in the sweet blood + Of Cherrys, Apricocks and Plumms + To bee imbru'd. + +[235] The Galliard, a lively French dance described in Sir John Davies' +_Orchestra_ (st. 67). + +[236] Sc. good-bye. Cf. Shirley's _Constant Maid_, i. 1, "Buoy, _Close_, +buoy, honest _Close_: we are blanks, blanks." + +[237] Can the reference be to _Troilus and Cressida_? + +[238] Ben Jonson's _Alchemist_. + +[239] Puisne (i.e. puny) was the term applied to students at the Inns of +Court; also to Freshmen at Oxford. + +[240] Cf. Shirley's _Honoria and Mammon_, i. 2: + + "Go to your Lindabrides + I'the new brothel; she's a handsome _leveret_." + +[241] The first edition of this well-known book was published in 1628. +_Parsons Resolutions_ is a fictitious book. + +[242] The "lamentable ballad of the Lady's Fall" has been reprinted by +Ritson and Percy. + +[243] In the MS. follows a line, scored through:-- + + "And while my footman plaies sigh out my part." + +[244] Shirley delights in ridiculing the affectation in which the +gallants of his time indulged. Cf. a very similar passage in _The Lady +of Pleasure_, v. 1. + +[245] The cant language of thieves. In Harman's _Caveat for Cursitors_, +or some of Dekker's tracts, "Pedlars' French" may be found in abundance. + +[246] I print this passage exactly as I find it in the MS. With a little +trouble it might be turned into good law. + +[247] _Aut Shirley aut Diabolus_. Cf. _Duke's Mistress_, iv. 1: + + "You shall lead destiny in cords of silk, + And it shall follow tame and to your pleasure." + +[248] Sc. swaggering. + +[249] A Chrisome child was one that died within a month after birth, at +the time of wearing the Chrisome cloth (i.e. the cloth formerly wrapt +round a child after baptism). Device implies that his rival is perfectly +helpless among ladies, a mere child. + +[250] "In the City of London," says Nares, "young freemen who march at +the head of their proper companies on the lord mayor's day, sometimes +with flags, were called _whifflers_ or _bachelor whifflers_, not because +they cleared the way but because they went first as whifflers did.--'I +look'd the next Lord Mayor's day to see you o' the livery, or one of the +_bachelor_ whifflers. _City Match_.'" + +[251] These words are scored through in the MS. + +[252] To "bear a brain" means to have understanding. The expression is +very common. + +[253] Not marked in the MS. + +[254] The earliest reference I have yet found to the "Cup at +_Newmarket_" is in Shirley's _Hyde Park_, v. 1. + +[255] The exact date of his death is unknown; he was dead before the +performance of Ben Jonson's _Bartholomew Fair_ (1614). + +[256] "Merlin. The _falco aesalon_ of Linnaeus, a small species of hawk; +sometimes corrupted into murleon. It was chiefly used to fly at small +birds, and Latham says it was particularly appropriated to the service +of ladies."--Nares. + +[257] Thomas Heywood gives an account of the "great ship" in his "True +description of his Majesties Royall Ship built this yeare 1637 at +Wool-witch in Kent," &c. 1637. 4to. + +[258] "Back side" = back yard. + +[259] A wild cat. + +[260] This scene was added, as an afterthought, at the end of the MS. In +the body of the MS. we find only "_A song ith taverne. Enter Thomas_." + +[261] The stage direction is my own. + +[262] All that I know at present of Mr. Adson is that he published in +1621 a collection of "Courtly Masquing Ayres." + +[263] A corruption of "_save-reverence_": we usually find the form +"sir-reverence." + +[264] i.e. drunk. + +[265] An allusion to Webster's "_Vittoria Coromborea, or the White +Devil_." + +[266] Not marked in MS. We have, instead, a note:-- + + _"And then begin as was intended."_ + +[267] Old authors constantly allude to the riotous conduct of the +'prentices on Shrove Tuesday. + +[268] This is a correction (in the MS.) for "to a Beggars tune." + +[269] So in Dekker & Middleton's _First Part of the Honest Whore_ +(IV. 3):-- + + "_A sister's thread_ i' faith had been enough." + +Dyce was no doubt right in thinking that the expression is a corruption +of _sewster's_ thread. In Ford's _Lady's Trial_, Gifford altered +"sister's thread" to "_silver_ thread." Shirley has "sister's thread" in +_Hyde Park_ (V. 1). + +[270] With this abuse cf. a very similar passage in Shirley's _Duke's +Mistress_ (IV. 1). + +[271] The _Woman Hater_ in Beaumont and Fletcher's play. + +[272] "Canaries" was the name of a quick, lively dance. Cf. Middlemen's +_Spanish Gipsy_ (IV. 2): "Fortune's a scurvy whore if she makes not my +head sound like a rattle and my heels dance the canaries." + +[273] Cf. a similar passage in Shirley's _Brothers_ (iii. 1). + +[274] In Sidney's _Arcadia_. + +[275] Cf. Jonson's _Every Man out of his Humour_, II. 1: "They say +there's a new motion of the city of _Niniveh_ with _Jonas_ and the whale +to be seen at _Fleet bridge_." (A _motion_, of course, is a puppet-show.) + +[276] This line occurs, word for word, in Shirley's _Bird in a Cage_ +(IV. 1):-- + + ... "A bird to be made much on. She and the horse + _That snorts at Spain by an instinct of nature_ + Should have shown tricks together." + +[277] An allusion to the game of "barley-break." + +[278] In the MS. the speaker's name is omitted. I have chosen +_Courtwell_ at a venture. + +[279] _Holland's Leaguer_ was the name of a notorious brothel in +Southwark. + +[280] _The Tell-Tale_. Through the courtesy of the Master, Dr. Carver, I +have had an opportunity of examining this play. It is of no particular +interest. The comic part is very poor, suggesting William Rowley at his +worst. Here are some fair lines, the best I can find:-- + + _Fide[lio]_. How? dead in prison? + + _Duke_. Dead, _Fidelio_: + Things of theire nature, like [a] vipers brood, + Kill their owne parents. But having sett the Court + In some good order, my next busines + Ys thus disguis'd to overlooke the Camp; + For a rude army, like a plott of ground + Left to yt selfe, growes to a wildernes + Peopled with wolves & tigers, should not the prince + Like to a carefull gardner see yt fenct, + Waterd & weeded with industrious care, + That hee ithe time of pruning nether spare + Weeds for faire looks and painted bravery, nor + Cut downe good hearbs and serviceable for + Theire humble growth: the violet that is borne + Under a hedg outsmells the blossomd thorne + That dwells fare higher. + + _Fide_. Yare full of goodnes & have layd out much + In provision for the whole state. + + _Duke_. My place: I am overseer + And bound to seet provided for by pattent. + For as the sunn, when lesser plannets sleep, + Holds his continued progresse on and keepes + A watchful eye over the world, so kings + (When meaner subjects have their revillings + And sports about them) move in a restless herde; + The publique safty is theyr privat care. + But now farewell; the army once surveighd + Expect mee here. + + _Fid_. Your pleasure bee obaid. + +[281] A few years ago I suggested in "Notes and Queries" that this +unknown author was Cyril Tourneur. Afterwards I discovered that I had +been anticipated by Thomas Lovell Beddoes. Curiously enough Mr. Fleay +had independently arrived at the same conclusion. Mr. Swinburne (_Essay +on Chapman_) is inclined to attribute the _Second Maiden's Tragedy_ to +Middleton. + +[282] The next scene is marked _Act 2, Scene 1_. + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Collection of Old English Plays, +Vol. II, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OLD ENGLISH PLAYS, V2 *** + +***** This file should be named 10656-8.txt or 10656-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/6/5/10656/ + +Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Tapio Riikonen and PG Distributed +Proofreaders + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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For +example an eBook of filename 10234 would be found at: + + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/2/3/10234 + +or filename 24689 would be found at: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/6/8/24689 + +An alternative method of locating eBooks: + https://www.gutenberg.org/GUTINDEX.ALL + + diff --git a/old/10656-8.zip b/old/10656-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0526703 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/10656-8.zip diff --git a/old/10656.txt b/old/10656.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..43ce8bf --- /dev/null +++ b/old/10656.txt @@ -0,0 +1,18458 @@ +Project Gutenberg's A Collection of Old English Plays, Vol. II, by Various + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: A Collection of Old English Plays, Vol. II + +Author: Various + +Release Date: January 9, 2004 [EBook #10656] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OLD ENGLISH PLAYS, V2 *** + + + + +Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Tapio Riikonen and PG Distributed +Proofreaders + + + + + + + +A COLLECTION OF OLD ENGLISH PLAYS, VOL. II + +In Four Volumes + + +Edited by + +A.H. BULLEN + + +1882-89. + + + +CONTENTS: + +Preface +Dick of Devonshire +The Lady Mother +The Tragedy of Sir John Van Olden Barnavelt +Captain Underwit +Appendix I. +Appendix II. +Footnotes. + + + + +PREFACE. + + +The plays in this volume are printed for the first time. All are +anonymous; but it is absolutely certain that _Sir John Van Olden +Barnavelt_ is a masterpiece by Fletcher and Massinger; that _Captain +Underwit_ is a comedy of Shirley's; and that the _Lady Mother_ (a piece +of no particular merit) is by Glapthorne. I am not at all sure that I am +right in ascribing _Dick of Devonshire_ to Heywood. But, whoever may +have been the author, I am confident that this well-written play will be +welcomed by all. In _Appendix I_ I give an account of the folio volume +(Eg. MS. 1,994) from which the two last pieces are taken. + +To Mr. ROBERT BOYLE, of St. Petersburg, I offer my sincere thanks for +the very interesting note (_Appendix II_) which he sent me after reading +the proof-sheets of _Barnavelt_. Elsewhere I have expressed my gratitude +to Mr. F.G. FLEAY for his valuable help. + +The preparation of this volume has been a work of great labour, for +everything has been transcribed by my own hand; but the tedious delay in +publication has been due in great part to circumstances beyond my +control. + +_January_ 27, 1883. + + + + + + +INTRODUCTION TO DICK OF DEVONSHIRE. + + +The play of _Dick of Devonshire_, now first printed (from Eg. MS., +1994[1]), is distinctly a well-written piece, the work of a practised +hand. There is nothing amateurish in the workmanship; the reader is not +doomed to soar into extravagances at one moment, and sink into +flatnesses at another. Ample opportunities were offered for displays of +boisterous riot, but the playwright's even-balanced mind was not to be +disturbed. Everywhere there are traces of studious care; and we may be +sure that a style at once so equable and strong was not attained without +a long apprenticeship. Nor will the reader fail to note the lesson of +charitableness and Christian forbearance constantly, yet unobtrusively, +inculcated. + +The hero of the play, Richard Pike, published, under the title of _Three +to One_, a pamphlet (reprinted in vol. i. of Mr. Arber's valuable +_English Garner_) describing his exploits. There is no date to the +pamphlet; but it was no doubt issued very shortly after Pike's return, +which took place on April 20, 1626. At the outset the writer apologises +for the rudeness of his style, "I know not," he says, "what the court of +a king means, nor what the fine phrases of silken courtiers are. A good +ship I know, and a poor cabin; and the language of a cannon: and +therefore as my breeding has been rough, scorning delicacy; and my +present being consisteth altogether upon the soldier (blunt, plain and +unpolished), so must my writings be, proceeding from fingers fitter for +the pike than the pen." In those days a soldier was never at a loss to +express himself, and honest Dick Pike was no exception to the rule. He +goes straight to the point, and relates his adventures very vividly in +the homeliest language. Returning from an expedition against Algiers +"somewhat more acquainted with the world, but little amended in estate," +he could not long rest inactive; and soon, "the drum beating up for a +new expedition," set out to try his fortunes again. The design was +against Cadiz; the fleet, under the command of the Earl of Essex, +numbered some 110 sail. There is no need to continue the story, for I +have nothing to add to the facts set forth in the pamphlet and the play. +If _Britannia's Pastorals_ had been written a few years later, we may be +sure that William Browne would have paid a fitting compliment to his +fellow-townsman's bravery. But Pike's famous deeds were not forgotten by +his countymen; for in a broadside of the late seventeenth century, +bearing the title of _A Panegyric Poem; or, Tavestock's Encomium_,[2] he +is thus enthusiastically praised:-- + + "Search whether can be found again the like + For noble prowess for our Tav'stock Pike, + In whose renowned never-dying name + Live England's honour and the Spaniard's shame." + +There is a curious notice of our hero in a private letter, dated May 19, +1626, of Dr. Meddus to the Rev. Joseph Mead:[3]--"Yesterday being Holy +Thursday, one Pyke, a common soldier, left behind the fleet at Cadiz, +delivered a challenge to the Duke of Buckingham from the Marquis of ----, +brother-in-law to the Conde d'Olivares, in defence of the honour of his +sister; affirming, moreover, that he had wronged Olivares, the King of +Spain, and the King of England, and therefore he would fight with him in +any part of France. This Pike, a Devonshire man, being presented +prisoner to the Duke of Medina, he would needs have him fight at rapier +or dagger with a Spaniard, supposing he would not stand him two thrusts: +but Pyke, by a dexterous sleight, presently disarmed the Spaniard of his +rapier without hurting him, and presented it to the Duke," &c. + +As to the authorship of the play, though I should be loth to speak with +positiveness, I feel bound to put forward a claim for Thomas Heywood. +Through all Heywood's writings there runs a vein of generous kindliness: +everywhere we see a gentle, benign countenance, radiant with love and +sympathy. On laying down one of his plays, the reader is inclined to +apply to him Tacitus' judgment of Agricola, "bonum virum facile +crederes, magnum libenter." Now, when we open _Dick of Devonshire_, the +naturalness and simplicity of the first scene at once suggest Heywood's +hand. In the second scene, the spirited eulogy on Drake-- + + "That glory of his country and Spayne's terror, + That wonder of the land and the seas minyon, + _Drake_, of eternall memory--" + +and the fine lines descriptive of the Armada are just such as we might +expect from the author of the closing scenes of the second part of _If +you know not me, you know nobody_. Heywood was fond of stirring +adventures: he is quite at home on the sea, and delights in nothing more +than in describing a sea-fight; witness his _Fortunes by Land and Sea_, +and the two parts of the _Fair Maid of the West_. But the underplot +bears even clearer traces of Heywood's manner. Manuel is one of those +characters he loved to draw--a perfect Christian gentleman, incapable of +baseness in word or deed. Few situations could be found more touching +than the scene (iii. 3), where Manuel defends with passionate +earnestness the honour of his absent brother, Henrico, and tries to +comfort his heart-broken father. Heywood dealt in extremes: his +characters are, as a rule, either faultless gentlemen or abandoned +scoundrels. Hence we need not be surprised that Henrico exceeds other +villains in ruffianism as much as his brother, the gentle Manuel, +surpasses ordinary heroes in virtue. The characters of Henrico's +contracted bride, Eleonora, and Catalina, the good wife of a vicious +husband, are drawn tenderly and skilfully. Heywood's eyes were oftener +dim with tears than radiant with laughter; yet, with all his sympathy +for the afflicted and the fallen, he never took a distorted view of +society, but preserved untainted to the end a perennial spring of +cheerfulness. + +I now leave the reader to the enjoyment of this old play, which, whether +it be Heywood's or not, certainly deserves the attention of all faithful +students of our inexhaustible dramatic literature. + +NOTE.--I gratefully acknowledge the assistance that I have received from +F.G. Fleay, Esq., in preparing this volume for the press. To ensure as +much accuracy as possible, Mr. Fleay has read the proof-sheets +throughout.[4] By the same gentleman's kindness I am able to correct the +following misprints in the first volume:-- + +p. 37, l. 23, for "Yet can give," read, "Yet can I give." + +p. 71, l. 18, del. comma after "live." + +p. 103, l. 9, del. "we." + +p. 119, 7 from bottom, for "she doth preferd doth see," read "she thus +preferd," &c. + +p. 142, 9 from bottom, for "vouchsafed," read "vouchsafe." + +p. 154, l. 19, for "There they are," read "I, here they are." + +p. 190, l. 24, for "woman" read "women." + +p. 194, l. 12, for "unwist," read "unjust." + +p. 228, last line, for "Equire," read "Squire." + +p, 258, l. 29, for "1639," read "1612." + +p. 274, l. 16, for "whore," read "whore's;" and in the next line, for +"sunnes," read "sinnes." + +p. 276, l. 4, after "Do not my Dons know," add "me." + +p. 281, 4 from bottom, for "wo," read "two." + +p. 311, l. 12, for "sol-Re-fa-mi," read "sol-Re-me-fa-mi." In l. 19, for +"Ra." read "Re." + +p. 317, l. 21, for "goon," read "good." + +p. 331, l. i, for "Med,," read "King." + + + + +THE PLAY OF DICKE OF DEVONSHIRE. + +_A Tragi-Comedy_. + + +Hector adest secumque Deos in praelia ducit. + + + +Drammatis Personae. + +_The Duke of Macada_, | +_The Duke of Girona_, | +_The Duke of Medina_, | Four Grandies. +_The Marquesse d'Alquevezzes_, | +_Don Pedro Gusman_, An ancient Lord. +_Manuell_, | His Sons. +_Henrico_, | +_Don Fernando_, Governor of Cadiz Towne. +_Teniente_, A Justicier. +_Bustamente_, Captaine of Cadiz Castle. +_Dicke Pike_, The Devonshire Soldier. +_Don John_, A Colonel. +_Buzzano_, Servant to Pedro Guzman. +_Eleonora_, Daughter to Fernando. +_Catelina_, Wife to Don John. +_A Gentlewoman_. +_An English Captaine_. +_Mr. Jewell_. +_Mr. Hill_. +_Secretary_. +_Mr. Woodrow_. +_A Jaylor_. +_Two Fryers_. +_A Guard_. +_English Soldiers_. +_Spanish Soldiers_. + + + + +The Play of Dick of Devonshire. + + + +_Actus Primus_. + +(SCENE 1.) + + + _Enter Don Pedro Gusman, Henrico and Manuell, his sons; + Don Fernando and Eleanora, his daughter, and Teniente_. + +_Pedr_. Gentlemen, y'have much honourd me to take +Such entertainement, but y'are welcome all. +'Twas my desire to have your company +At parting: heaven knowes when we shall meete againe. + +_Ten_. You are for _France_ then too? + +_Man_. I wayte on my father. + +_Pedr_. _Henrico_. + +_Ferd_. _Eleonora_. + +_Ten_. But how chance, _Manuell_, your younger brother +Is at the Goale before you? What, no Lady +To please your eye? + +_Man_. I am not +Yet weary of my freedome. May _Henrico_ +Meete Joy in his Election: yet I know not +One I would sooner chuse to call a sister +Than _Eleonora_. + +_Pedr_. At my returne from France all things shall bee +Consummate; in meane time let your owne hearts, +Knitt with the strongest tye of love, be merry +In mutuall embraces, and let your prayers +Fill our departing sayles. Our stay will not +Bee long, and the necessity of my affaires +Unwillingly doth take me from you. + +_Hen_. Though I could wish your stay, my duty bidds me +Expect the enjoying of my happines +Till your returne from _France_.--Your blessing. + +_Eleo_. How ever heaven dispose of _Eleonora_, +Pray write me in your thoughts your humblest daughter, +That shall make it a part of her devotions +To pray for you. + +_Fer_. Well, sir, since your designe +Pulls you away, may your good Angell guard you. + +_Ten_. The like wish I, _Don Pedro_. + +_Fer_. _Manuell_, I hope +You will not long breath out of _Spanish_ ayre. +Farewell! + +_Pedr_. My thanks to all.--Stay! + + [_Peeces dischargd_. + +_Fer_. The Captaine of the Castle come to interpret +That language to us? What newes? + + _Enter Bustamente_. + +_Bust_. Such as will make all _Spaine_ dance in Canary. +The _Brasile_ fleete-- + +_Pedr_. Arriv'd? + +_Bust_. Is putting into harbour, and aloud +Calls for a Midwife: she is great with gold +And longs to be delivered. + +_Pedr_. No he _Spanyard_ +Is not a true reioycer at the newes: +Be't a good omen to our Journey. + +_Ten_. So we wish all. + +_Pedr_. May we at our returne meet no worse newes +Then now at parting. My noble _Don Fernando_ +And _Teniente_, once more farewell, (my daughter, I hope) + +_Eleonora, Henrico_,--Nay, your good newes deserves a farewell. + +_Bust_. A soldier's farewell, a fast hand and heart; +Good fate to both. + [_Ex. Pedr. and Man_. + +_Hen_. Come, _Elinor_, let them discourse their Joyes +For the safe fleete: in thee all my delights +Embarke themselves. + +_Bust_. Tush, lett 'em come; our shippes have brought with them +The newes of warre. + +_Per_. What is that, Gentlemen? + +_Ten_. I am speaking of a fleete of Enemyes. + +_Per_. From whence? + +_Ten_. From _England_. + +_Fer_. A castle in the ayre. + +_Ten_. Doe you not believe it? + +_Fer_. I heard such a report, +But had no faith in't: a mere Potgun![5] + +_Bust_. Nay, sir, +'Tis certaine there hath bene great preparation, +If our Intelligence be true to us; +And a mighty Navy threatens the sea. + +_Fer_. What's that to us? +How long hath it bene a voyce they were at sea! +I have ventured to discharge the soldiers +Which to keepe here in pay upon the rumour +Of a great fleete a comming, would both pester +The Towne and be unnecessary charge +To the King our Master. + +_Ten_. But how if they intend us? + +_Fer_. 'Tis not probable: +The time of yeare is past, sir, now; more then +The middle of October. Had they meant us +We should have heard their message in loud Cannon +Before this time. + +_Bust_. I am of that opinion. + +_Ten_. But _Don Fernando_ and _Bustamente_, call to mind +The time hath bene, when we supposed too +The season past, they have saluted us +With more then friendly Bulletts; tore the ribbs +Of our Towne up, made every house too hott +For the Inhabitants; had a spoyle of all, +Spight of our hearts. + +_Fer_. One Swallow makes not Summer: because once +Our City was their prize, is't of necessity +It must be so againe? + +_Bust_. Or were the Navy +Greater, as fame gives out it is the fayrest +That ever danced upon these Seas, why yet +Should we suspect for this Citty? + +_Fer_. Because we dreame soe. + +_Ten_. If you did dreame it may be as neare truth: +I wish the contrary, but know them daring Enemyes. + +_Fer_. The world, we doe acknowledge, cannot boast +More resolution then the _English_ hearts +Seasond for action. + +_Ten_. _Francisco Bustamente_, how is the Castle? what strength? + +_Bust_. A fort impregnable, wanting neyther soldiers nor munition. + +_Ten_. Well, looke to't. + +_Fer_. How ere +That wilbe necessary; the fort lyes in +The mouth of danger, and it will become +You to discharge that duty, _Bustamente_. + +_Bust_. With my best care. + +_Ten_. I wish all well, and that you had not yet +Discharg'd your Companyes, _Don Fernando_. + +_Fer_. Come, come; putt of your Jelousy, +Drinke downe the remembrance. We forget +Our fleetes arrivall; send your feares away; +Nothing but wine and mirth should crowne this day. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +SCENE 2. + + + _Enter two Devonshire Merchants, as being in Sherryes_[6] + +1. Heare you the newes? + +2. Yes, that an English fleete +Is making up to Cales.[7] + +1. Our _Sherryes_ merchants, +Though few of us be heere, shall soundly pay +To the furnishing of this Navy. + +2. Nay, I assure you +Our shipps wilbe fast bound by _Spanish_ charmes +Not to get hence in hast. + +1. The Divell allready +Is furling up the sayles; would all the sackes +Which we have bought for _England_ were in _Devonshire_ +Turnd to small Beere, so we were but in _Tavistocke_ +To see it drawne out; were it nere so thin +I'de drink a health to all the Dons in _Sherryes_ +And cry a pox upon 'em. + +2. That word heard +By any lowsy _Spanish_ Picardo[8] +Were worth our two neckes. Ile not curse my Diegoes +But wish with all my heart that a faire wind +May with great Bellyes blesse our _English_ sayles +Both out and in; and that the whole fleete may +Be at home delivered of no worse a conquest +Then the last noble voyage made to this Citty, +Though all the wines and merchandize I have here +Were ith' Seas bottome. + +1. Troth, so would I mine. + +2. I nere could tell yet from what roote this huge +Large spreading Tree of hate from _Spayne_ to us, +From us agayne to _Spayne_, took the first growth. + +1. No? then lie tell you: let us season our sorrow +With this discourse. + +2. With all my heart I long for't. + +1. You shall not loose your longing: then, sir, know +The hate a _Spanyard_ beares an _Englishman_ +Nor naturall is, nor ancient; but as sparkes, +Flying from a flint by beating, beget flames, +Matter being neere to feed and nurse the fire, +So from a tinder at the first kindled[9] +Grew this heartburning twixt these two great Nations. + +2. As how, pray? + +1. Heare me: any _Englishman_ +That can but read our Chronicles can tell +That many of our Kings and noblest Princes +Have fetcht their best and royallest wives from _Spayne_, +The very last of all binding both kingdomes +Within one golden ring of love and peace +By the marriage of Queene _Mary_ with that little man +(But mighty monarch) _Phillip_, son and heire +To _Charles_ the Emperour. + +2. You say right. + +1. Religion +Having but one face then both here and there, +Both Nations seemd as one: Concord, Commerce +And sweete Community were Chaynes of Pearle +About the neckes of eyther. But when _England_ +Threw of the Yoake of _Rome, Spayne_ flew from her; +_Spayne_ was no more a sister nor a neighbour, +But a sworne Enemy. All this did but bring +Dry stickes to kindle fire: now see it burne. + +2. And warme my knowledge and experience by't. + +1. Spaines anger never blew hott coales indeed +Till in Queene _Elizabeths_ Raigne when (may I call him so) +That glory of his Country and _Spaynes_ terror, +That wonder of the land and the Seas minyon, +_Drake_, of eternall memory, harrowed th'_Indyes_. + +2. The King of _Spaynes_ west _Indyes_? + +1. Yes, when his Hands +_Nombre de Dios, Cartagena, Hispaniola_, +With _Cuba_ and the rest of those faire Sisters, +The mermaydes of those Seas, whose golden strings +Give him his sweetest musicke, when they by _Drake_ +And his brave Ginges[10] were ravishd; when these red apples +Were gather'd and brought hither to be payrd-- +Then the _Castilian_ Lyon began to roare. + +2. Had he not cause, being vexd soe? + +1. When our shipps +Carrying such firedrakes in them that the huge +_Spanish_ Galleasses, Galleons, Hulkes and Carrackes[11] +Being great with gold, in labour with some fright, +Were all delivered of fine redcheekt Children +At _Plymouth, Portsmouth_ and other _English_ havens +And onely by men midwives: had not _Spayne_ reason +To cry out, oh Diables _Ingleses_! + +2. It had not spoke such _Spanish_ else. + +1. When we did sett our feete even on their Mynes +And brought their golden fagotts thence, their Ingotts +And silver wedges; when each ship of ours +Was able to spread sayles of silke; the tacklings +Of twisted gold; when every marryner +At his arrivall here had his deepe pockets +Crammd full of Pistoletts; when the poorest ship-boy +Might on the _Thames_ make duckes and drakes with pieces +Of eight fetchd out of _Spayne_: These were the Bellowes +Which blew the _Spanish_ bonfires of revenge; +These were the times in which they calld our Nation +Borachos,[12] Lutherans and Furias del Inferno. + +2. Would we might now give them the selfe same cause +To call us soe. + +1. The very name of _Drake_ +Was a Bugbear to fright Children; Nurses still'd +Their little _Spanish_ Nynnyes when they cryde +"Hush! the _Drake_ comes." + +2. All this must needs beget +Their mortall hate to us. + +1. It did; yet then +We lovd them beyond measure. + +2. Why? + +1. Why, did not +_Spaine_ fetch gold from the _West Indies_ for us +To spend here merrily? She planted vines, +We eate the Grapes; she playd the _Spanish_ Pavine[13] +Under our windowes, we in our bedds lay laughing +To heare such Mynstrelsy. + +2. How then turnd the windes? +Why did this beauteous face of love in us +Put on so blacke a Visour of hate to them? + +1. Oh, sir, doe but looke backe to Eighty Eight, +That _Spanish_ glasse shall tell you, shew each wrinckle. +_England_ that yeare was but a bit pickd out +To be layd on their Kinges Trencher. Who were their Cookes? +Marry, sir, his Grandees and great Dons of _Spaine_, +A Navy was provided, a royall fleete, +Infinite for the bravery of Admiralls, +Viceadmirall [sic], Generalls, Colonells and Commanders, +Soldiers, and all the warlike furniture +Cost or experience or mans witt could muster +For such a mayne designe. + +2. Stay; Eighty Eight,-- +Thirty eight yeares agoe: much about then +Came I into the world.--Well, sir, this fleete? + +1. Which made the Sea fish wonder what new kingdome +Was building over theirs, beate downe the Billowes +Before them to gett thither. 'Twas such a Monster +In body, such a wonder in the eyes, +And such a[14] thunder in the eares of Christendome +That the Popes Holynes would needes be Godfather +To this most mighty big limbd Child, and call it +Th'Invincible Armado. + +2. Thats to say +A Fleete of Shipps not to be overcome +By any power of man. + +1. These were the Whales, +These were the huge Levyathans of the Sea +Which roaring came with wide and dreadfull Jawes +To swallow up our Kingdom, Shipps & Nation. +The fame of this Armado flew with Terrour +Riding on Envyes wing; the preparation +Was wayted on with wonder, and the approach +Shewd the grim face of horrour: yet gainst all these +Our Country and our Courages were armd. + +2. _St. George_ for _England_! + +1. And _St. George_ we cryde, +Albeit, we heard, the _Spanish_ Inquisition +Was aboord every ship with torture, torments, +Whipps strung with wyre, and knives to cutt our throates. +But from the armed winds an hoast brake forth +Which tare their shipps and sav'd ours.--Thus I have read +Two storyes to you; one, why _Spayne_ hates us, +T'other why we love not them. + +2. Oh, sir, I thank you. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +SCENE 3. + + + _Ent. Teniente, Don John, Henrico_. + +_Ten_. I ever feard some ill fate pointed at +This Citty. + +_Jo_. Makes the fleete this way? + +_Hen_. _Buzzano_! + +_Ten_. I did dreame every night of't, and the Ravens +With their unlucky throates never leave croaking +Some danger to us all. + +_Hen_. Where's _Buzzano_? Villaine! + +_Jo_. Be not discomforted. + +_Ten_. Don _Fernando_, too, +Hath cut our strength off, taken away our swords +Should save our throates. I did preiudicate +Too rashly of the _English_; now we may +Yield up the Towne.--Sirra, get you up to th'highest _Enter Buzzano_. +Turret, that lookes three leagues into the Sea, +And tell us what you can discover there. + +_Buz_. Why, I can tell you ere I goe. + +_Hen_. What? + +_Buz_. Why there are fishes and shipps too in the sea; they were made +for that purpose. + +_Ten_. The fellow doates? climbe quickly, sirra, and tell us +Whither any bend to this place: there's a fleete +Abroad; skud, rascall. + +_Hen_. Villayne, away; and cast your eyes into the Sea. + +_Buz_. Ile be hangd first; some wiser then some: mine Eyes into the Sea? +I see no reason for't. + +_Ten_. Why stayest thou?--this slave is without sence. +Get up and see, and report the truth. + +_Buz_. Thats another matter: I will orelooke you all presently. + [_Exit_. + +_Jo_. What were I best to doe? I doe not like these Navyes. + +_Hen_. 'Tis past question, +If they were kenn'd this way, that they intend +To make another meale of this Citty. + +_Ten_. The first was but a Breakfast: they have shrewd stomakes. +Oh for a lusty storme to bury all +Their hopes in the waves now! one good swelling Gust +Would breake their ribbs in pieces. + +_Jo_. No witches abroad? + +_Buz_. I see, I see, I see! + + _Enter Buzzano above_. + +_All_. What? + +_Buz_. Nay, I cannot tell what yet: +Something it is; I thinke it be a Towne. + +_Hen_. Some Iland in the Sea! + +_Buz_. It swims on the water. + +_Jo_. 'Tis the fleete: come they this way? + +_Buz_. Yes, th'are ships; I know 'em by their foule linen; now I see +them plainely; they come, they come, they come! + +_Hen_. How far off? + +_Ten_. Speake, sirra. + +_Buz_. If you would peace I might heare what they say; the wind serves +to bring every word they speake: they make towards, yes, towards this +Citty. A great fleete! stay, stay, look to your selves, Don: they spitt +fire allready, and have hung up a thousand flaggs of defyance. They are +at the fort, the castle, at the castle: would I were pelted to death +with Oranges and Lymons. + +_Ten_. Here comes _Don Fernando_. What newes? + + _Enter Fernando with Eleonora_. + +_Fer_. Assured danger, gentlemen, for all our men +Already are in a palsye and doe flye +They know not whither. They are _English_: +The Citty's allmost desperate. + +_Ten_. _Don John_, come with me +And helpe to encourage the remayning soldiers. + +_Fer_. New supply shall quickly cheare you hearts.-- +_Henrico_! + +_Hen_. Sir? + +_Fer_. In this confusion, when a thousand feares +Present themselves & danger with full face +Lookes on the generall Towne, let me locke up +This Treasure in your armes; &, for you have +At least an equall interest with mee +In _Eleonora_, in your fathers house +She may hope more security, being of strength; +For this storme cannot last. But in your love +She hath a stronger guard. + +_Hen_. This act of confidence +Binds me for ever to _Fernando_: come, +Halfe of my soule, for we two must not bee +In life devided. Though the Citty lye +At mercy of the Enemy, yet from +_Don Pedro Gusman's_ house not all mankind +Shall take thee from me. + + _Enter Buzzano and Spanyards flying_. + +_Buz_. They come, they come, they come! + +_Fer_. Committing this my Jewell to your trust +I must unto my charge: my blessing! + +_Ele_. Oh doe not leave me, sir; for without you +What safety can I have? you are my father: +Pray, stay you with me. + +_Fer_. Oh, my Girle, I cannot, +Dare not be so unfaithfull to the trust +His maiesty put me in, though I would stay. + +_Ele_. I feare if you goe hence all will not long be well. + +_Hen_. Distrust you me, Eleonora? + +_Ele_. No, indeed: +You ever had with me th'opinion +Of a most noble gentleman. + +_Fer_. What then? + +_Ele_. I know not what besides my feare; and that +Beggs I may share your fortune, since you may not +Take up such safety here as I have. + +_Fer_. Come, +You are to blame: this heaven that now lookes on us +With rugged brow may quickly smile againe +And then I shall revisite my _Eleonora_. +So, farewell. [_Exit_. + +_Hen_. Till then with greater care then were the Dragons +Supposd to watch the Golden Apples growing +In the _Hesperides_, shall _Henrico_ wayte +On his best loved. Oh, my _Eleonora_, +I would to heaven there were no war but here +To shoote love darts! each smile from this fayre Eye +May take an Army prisoners: let me give +My life up here unto these lipps, and yet +I shall, by the sweetnes of a kisse, take back +The same againe. Oh thou in whom alone +Vertue hath perfect figure, hide not day +In such a Cloud: what feare hath enterd here? +My life is twisted in a Thread with thine; +Were't not defenced, there could nothing come +To make this cheeke looke pale, which at your Eye +Will not fall dead before you.-- + + _Enter Buzzano_. + +Sirra, let all your care and duty bee +Employed to cheere this Lady: pray, be merry. + +_Buz_. Oh, sir, yonders such doings. + +_Hen_. Hell on your bawling! not a sillable to affright her, +or I shall tune your instrument there. + +_Buz_. Hele breake the head of my instrument! +Why, sir, weomen are not affraid to heare of doings. + +_Hen_. Still jarring? + +_Buz_. When the whole towne is altogether by th'eares you might give +me leave to jar a little my selfe:--I have done, sir. + +_Hen_. Putt on thy merryest face, _Buzzano_. + +_Buz_. I have but one face, but I can make a great many. + +_Hen_. My best _Eleonora_, I shall soone returne: +In the meane time be owner of this house, +The possesour. All danger, sweet, shall dwell +Far off: Ile but enquire the state of things +In the Citty, and fly back to thee with loves wings. + [_Exit_. + +_Ele_. I prithee call him backe. + +_Buz_. Signior _Henrico_, +She has something more to say to you. [_Redit_. + +_Hen_. To me, sweetest? + +_Ele_. _Henrico_, doe you love me? + +_Hen_. By this faire hand. + +_Ele_. And will you leave me, too? + +_Hen_. Not for the wealth of _Spaine_. + +_Ele_. Since I must be your prisoner let me have +My keepers company, for I am afraid +Some enemy in your absence, like a woolfe +May ceize on me. I know not whither now +I ere shall see my father: doe not you +Ravish yourselfe from me, for at the worst +We may dye here, _Henrico_; and I had rather +Fall in your eye than in your absence be +Dishonord; if the destinyes have not +Spun out a longer thread, lets dye together. + +_Hen_. Oh doe not racke my soule with these sad accents. +Am I _Henrico_? there is not any place +Can promise such security as this +To _Eleonora_. Doe not talke of dying, +Our best dayes are to come: putt on thy quiet, +And be above the reach of a misfortune. +Ile presently wayte on thee, by this kisse. + +_Buz_. Would I might keepe your oath: so please you, lady, +_Buzzano_ will sweare too. + +_Hen_. What? + +_Buz_. That you'le be there and here agen presently. + +_Hen_. Attend here, sirra. + +_Buz_. If you must needes goe, pray, sir, keepe yourselfe out of +Gun-shott. + +_Hen_. Mind you your charge. + +_Buz_. You shall heare a good report of my piece, I warrant you. +Take heed you be not sent to heaven with a powder: a company of hott +shotts[15] are abroad, I can tell you. + +_Ele_. If you will goe may your successe be faire. + +_Hen_. Farewell; heaven cannot chuse but heare your prayer. + [_Exit_. + +_Buz_. Now what please you, madam? that I shall amble, trott, or walke? + +_Ele_. Any pace. + +_Buz_. Yet, if you would referre it to me, I'de use none of them. + +_Ele_. What wouldst doe? + +_Buz_. Why I would gallop or run, for I think long till I be at home in +our Castle of comfort. If it please you Ile lead you a hand gallop in +the plaine ground, trott up hill with you & racke[16] downewards. + +_Ele_. Talke not of rackes, prithee; the times present too many. + +_Buz_. Ride me as you will, then; I am used both to curbe and snaffle. + +_Ele_. I prithee tell me, _Buzzano_,--so, I heare thy master call thee-- + +_Buz_. He may call me at his pleasure, forsooth. + +_Ele_. Dost thou know the nature of the _English_? + +_Buz_. Both men and women: I travelled thither with an Embassadour. For +the men Ile not misse you a haire of their condition; and for the women +I know 'em as well as if I had bene in their bellyes. + +_Ele_. Are they not cruell? + +_Buz_. As Tygers, when they set on't: no mercy unlesse we aske them +forgiveness. + +_Ele_. That's somewhat yet. + +_Buz_. But not to you; that's onely to men; for lett the women fall +downe afore 'em never so often they'le rather fall upon them. Nay, some +of them are so spitefull they'le breake their owne backes before they +let 'em rise againe. + +_Ele_. Foole, I meane not your way. + +_Buz_. Keepe your owne way, madam; I meane the playne way. + +_Ele_. Are they not unmercifull in their natures to such as are in their +power, their Enemyes as we may be? + +_Buz_. Their enemyes as we may be in their power! I had rather be +cramm'd into a cannon and shott against their ships then you should +prove a witch & tell true now. The _Tartar_ is not halfe so grim; not +a _Turke_ would use us so like _Jewes_ as they will. +If it come to that once that they take the Towne +You will see _Spanish_ Dons heads cryed up and downe: +as they doe our Orenges and Lymons; and the woemens heads shall off, +too,--not a maydenhead of gold shall scape 'em. + +_Ele_. It is no valour to use Tyranny +Upon the conquerd: they have been reported +A noble nation; and when last the pride +Of this Citty adornd their victory, by command +Or their brave Generall, no outrage ever +The soldiers durst committ upon our persons: +Though all our wealth ran in full streames upon them +Our honours were preserved, or fame belys them. + +_Buz_. No matter what fame sayes, perhaps I know more than she does; +& yet, now you talk of valour, they are not comparable to us. + +_Ele_. How? + +_Buz_. Why, valour is but the courage of a man; courage is, as they say, +the spirit of a man; and the spirit of a man is the greatnes, as we call +it, of his stomake. Now 'tis well knowen to the whole world they feed +better and eate more then we: ergo, we have better stomackes then they. +But, see! we have talk't our selves at home already, and the point +(port?) is open. Will't please you enter, or shall I enter before you? +I am your man, madam. + +_Ele_. You know the way best:--whilst abroad they are +At fight, twixt hope and feare at home I warre. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + + +_Actus Secundus_. + +(SCENE 1.) + + + _Alarum; as the soft musicke begins a peale of ordnance + goes off; then Cornetts sound a Battaile; which ended + enter Captaine, Master of a ship, Dick Pike, with musketts_. + +_Cap_. Fought bravely, countrymen! Honour all this while +Sate in a Throne of smoake with sparckling eyes +Looking upon your courages & admiring +Your resolutions, and now rewards your sweat +With victory. The castle groanes at heart; +Her strongest ribbs are bruizd with battering Cannons, +And she hath tane into her bowells fire +Enough to melt her. + +_Ma_. My Lord came bravely up to her & shewd a spirit +That commands danger; his honorable example +Gave us new hearts. + +_Sol_. Faith, give the _Spanyards_ their due; they entertaind us +handsomely with hott meat; 'twas no cold welcome. + +_Pike_. But I would not willingly swallow their plums; they would rise +shrewdly in a man's stomacke. + +_Cap_. At the first shott, when the _Convertine_ came in, 3 men were +killd. + +_Ma_. At the second 4, was't not? + +_Cap_. At the third two more: one salutation +Came so close that, with the very wind, +My hands have almost lost the sense of feeling. +_Jewell_, thou mad'st thy muskett spitt fire bravely. + +_Ma_. And my _Devonshire_ blade, honest _Dick Pike_, +Spard not his Sugar pellets among my _Spanyards_. + +_Cap_. He did like a soldier, as he that chargd his muskett told me: +in this service he hath dischargd 70 bulletts. + +_Pike_. I did my part, sir, and wish I had bene able to have layd 'em +on thicker; but I have lynd somebodyes gutts, much good doe 'em with it; +some of them have wishd well to me. + +_Cap_. Art hurt? + +_Ma_. Where? + +_Pike_. Nowhere; one of my flanckes itches a little; if a piece of lead +have crept in to hide it selfe cowardly I am not much in debt for't. + +_Cap_. Let my Surgeons search it. + +_Pike_. Search a pudding for plums; let my flesh alone; perhaps it wants +souldering. Shall we to't agen: I have halfe a score pills for my +_Spanyards_--better then purging comfitts. + + _Enter a Soldier_. + +_Cap_. What newes? + +_Sol_. The fort is yielded. + +_Pike_. They have bene speechlesse a good while; I thought they'de yield +up the ghost shortly. + +_Sol_. But on condition to march away with flying colours, which was +granted. + +_Cap_. What's become of the Captaine of the fort? + +_Sol_. _Don Francisco Bustament_ is carryed aboord our Generalls ship, +where he had a soldier like welcome; but he & all his company are put +over to _Port Reall_ upon the maine land because they should not succour +the Citty. + +_Cap_. Unles he will swim to th'Iland.--And how fares the _Convertine_? + +_Sol_. Her shroudes are torne to pieces & her tacklings to raggs. + +_Cap_. No matter; she carryes the more honour. + +_Sol_. 5 hundred Bulletts sticke in her sides. + +_Pike_. 'Tis well they scaped her heart, lying all the fight little more +than pistoll shott from 'em; her Starboard still to the fort & at least +200 Musketts playing upon her. I wish'd heartily some of our London +roaring Boyes[17] had bene in the heate of't. + +_Sol_. Wouldst have 'em twice burnt. + +_Pike_. They should have found a difference betwixt the smoake of +Tobacco and of a muskett; another manner of noise than _dam me & refuse +me_[18], which they vomitt dayly. It might have done some of 'em good, +for by that meanes they might have prayd heartily once in their lives. + +_Cap_. The _Whitehall_[19] men did good service. + +_Ma_. Who? the Collyers? + +_Sol_. 4000 Bulletts their ordnance & the _Hollanders_ dischargd upon +the Castle. + +_Cap_. 'Twas well done of all sides, Bullyes[20]: but, since our forces +are landed, let it be your care to looke well to the Ships: and honest +_Dick_ of _Devonshire_ be not too carelesse of your hurts; he meanes to +fight againe that provides for his recovery soonest. Hold thee, here is +something to pay the Surgeon and to wash your wound withall. + +_Pike_. My noble Captaine, I'le have care of my owne and drinke your +health with it. + +_Ma_. Thou deservest more than common encouragement: prithee, remember +me too. + + [_Exeunt Capt. & Mast_. + +_Pike_. Why, now am I sorry I have no more hurt, gentlemen; but I tooke +it as earnest to receive more if occasion bee. I have but a barrell to +bestow among my Dons; while that lasts let 'em come & welcome,--the +drinke shalbe spicd to their hands. Their complexions are blacke, they +shall want no Balls to wash their faces; if any doe light in their +bodies they may chance be scourd all over. + +_Sol_. 2. We may hap to be in the suddes ourselves. + +_Pike_. There will be charges savd then; for my part I am but one, and +there are shotts enough. + +_Sol_. 2. More by a score then I hope wilbe payd these two dayes. + +_Pike_. Talke not of paying: here's more then a month comes to. Well, +if our service be done, & there be any other liquor to be gott, wele +drinke no salt water as long as this lasts. + +_Sol_. 2. Come, let's have a dish to our countrymen & let's remember +_Tavestock_. + +_Pike_. Godamercy for that, boy. A match, a match! + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +(SCENE 2.) + + + _Enter Henrico Gusman, his sword drawne, & Eleonora_. + +_Hen_. Yet the Citty is safe enough; feare not, _Eleonora_; +The Bullets make no noyse here: if the Towne +Should yield her strength up to th'invader, thou +Art lockd up like a spirit in a Christall: +Not an enchanted Castle, held up by +Strong charme, is halfe so safe. This house, though now +It carry not the figure & faire shape +Which the first workeman gave it, eating Time +Having devourd the face of't, is within +A Sanctuary, & hath so much cunning +Couchd in the body not a Laborinth +Is so full of Meanders. + +_Ele_. Sir, your presence +Confirmes me in opinion of my safety; +Not of my life so much, for that's a thing +I owe to nature & should one day be +A-weary of it; like to Innes we take +Our houses up, having but here a place +Of _Lodging_ not of _dwelling_:--but of _honour_ +You give me my assurance, for in such +A time of thicke confusions I much feare +That might be hazarded. And who knowes what +The soldier that hath no lawe but that +Of cruelty and rapine, when like a Bird +Of prey his Tallents are possessd of one +So weake as I am-- + +_Hen_. He that durst offend +Thee with a sillable or but fright that bloud +Out of thy Cheekes to seeke another place, +Not daring to be seene there where it now +Is of itselfe sufficient to ravish +A mortall that with just eyes can looke on it, +Had better be a divell. But a haire, +The poorest part of thee & in this excellent +Because 'tis thine, should any dare to ravish +From these his soft companions, which the wind +Would be for ever proud to play withall, +H'had better dig his mothers coffin up +And with his teeth eate what the wormes have left. + +_Ele_. I know you will defend me. + +_Hen_. Will defend thee! +Have I a life, a soule that in thy service +I would not wish expird! I doe but borrow +My selfe from thee. + +_Ele_. Rather you put to Interest +And, for that principall you have credited +To _Eleonora_ her heart is paid backe +As the iust Usury. + +_Hen_. You undoe me, sweet, +With too much love; if ere I marry thee +I feare thou'lt kill me. + +_Ele_. How? + +_Hen_. With tendring me too much, my _Eleonora_; +For in my conscience thou'lt extreamely love me, +And extreames often kill. + +_Ele_. There can be no extreme of love[21], sir. + +_Hen_. Yes, but there may; and some say Jealousy +Runs from the Sea, a rivolet but deducted +From the mayne Channell. + +_Ele_. This is a new language. + +_Hen_. Have you not heard men have been killd with Joy? +Our griefe doth but contract the heart, & gladnesse +Dilate the same; and soo too much of eyther +Is hott i'th' fourth degree. + +_Ele_. Sir, your discourse +Is stuff of severall pieces and knitts not +With that you usd but now: if we can practize +A vertuous love there's no hurt to exceed in't. +--What doe you, Sir? + +_Hen_. Looke on thee. + +_Ele_. Why doe you eye me soe? this is not usuall. +Are you well? + +_Hen_. Well, never better. + +_Ele_. Pray heaven it bode me no unhappinesse! +How doth my father? + +_Hen_. He's very well, too; feare not. + +_Ele_. Still I read in your eyes-- + +_Hen_. What Babyes[22], prety one? Thy owne face, naught else; +I receive that way all this beauty into +My heart, and 'tis perhaps come backe to looke +Out at the window. Come, Ile winke againe, +It shall not trouble you:--hence my trayterous thoughts. + +_Ele_. Indeed you are not well. + +_Hen_. Indeed I am not; all's not well within me. +Why should I be a villaine? _Eleonora_ +Doe not looke on me; turne those eyes away, +They would betray thee to thy sorrow; or +Lett me by parting carry along with me +That which to know undoes thee. + +_Ele_. Are you not hurt? + +_Hen_. Yes. + +_Ele_. Good heaven defend! I have a soveraigne Balme. + [_Exit_. + +_Hen_. Vanish, you ugly shapes, & with her presence +Quitt your sharp stings! into what monstrous creature +Feele I myself a-growing! yet I cannot +Force backe the streame, it comes so fast upon me; +I cannot. + + _Enter Eleonora_. + +_Ele_. Here, good _Henrico_, let me see your wound. + +_Hen_. No, I am well againe; thankes, my best love. +Come, let us walke and talke; I had a fancy, +But 'tis no matter:--_Buzzano_! + + _Enter Buzzano_. + +_Buz_. Did you call? + +_Hen_. Yes, the Balme here-- + +_Buz_. What shall I doe with it? + +_Hen_. Lay it up safe; 'tis good for a greene wound +But mines a blacke one:--and d'you heare, sirra, +Draw up the bridge, give entrance unto none. + +_Buz_. All my fellowes are abroad, sir; there's nobody at home but I. + +_Hen_. No matter, let none enter; were my father +Brought with a whirlwind backe, he finds all shutt +Till I have done. + +_Buz_. Well, sir;--madam, all this is that you should not b' afraid: +you now see what a kind man he is,--he will suffer none to enter but +himselfe. [_Exit_. + +_Ele_. If all this proceed out of your care of me, how much am I bound +to acknowledge you. Sir, methinkes you minde me not. + +_Hen_. Yes, I doe nothing else but thinke of thee, & of my father, too, +_Don Pedro_. + +_Ele_. Ha! I hope he's well. + +_Hen_. I wish he were returned, my _Eleonora_, for both our sakes. + +_Ele_. The same wish I, sir. + +_Hen_. That then our Joys, which now like flowers nippd +With frost, hang downe the head as if the stalkes +Could not sustaine the toppes, they droope to much;-- +At his returne th'art mine. + +_Ele_. I am yours now +In holyest Contract. + +_Hen_. That's the ground we build on: +Faith, since allready the foundation's layd, +Let's work upon't. Y'are mine, you say, allready-- +Mine by all tearmes of Law, & nothing wanting +But the possession: let's not then expect +Th'uncertainety of a returne from France, +But be all one ymediately. + +_Ele_. I understand you not. + +_Hen_. Since y'are a Tree reservd for me what now +Should hinder me from climbing? All your apples +I know are ripe allready; 'tis not stealth, +I shall rob nobody. + +_Ele_. You'le not be a divell? + +_Hen_. No, I will but play the man with you: why, you know 'tis nothing. + +_Ele_. Will you enforce mine honour? oh, _Henrico_, +Where have you left your goodnesse? sure you cannot +Be so ignoble, if you thinke me worthy +To be your wife at least, to turne _Eleonora_ +Into a whore. + +_Hen_. Pish! some hungry Landlords would have rent before +The Quarter day,--I doe no more: by faire meanes +Yield up your fort; the Tenement is mine owne +And I must dwell in't. + +_Ele_. My feares pointed wrong: +You are no enemy, no wolfe; it was +A villaine I disturbed: oh, make me not +Find in your presence that destruction +My thoughts were so affrighted with. + +_Hen_. We shall have such adoe now! + +_Ele_. Your fathers house will prove no castle to mee +If you at home doe wound mee. 'Twas an Angell +Spoke in you lately not my Cheeke should bee +Made pale with feare. Lay not a lasting blush +On my white name:--No haire should perish here +Was vowed even now:--Oh let not a blacke deed, +And by my sworne preserver, be my death +My ever living death. _Henrico_, call +To mind your holy vowes; thinke on our parents, +Ourselves, our honest names; doe not kill all +With such a murthering piece. You are not long +T'expect, with the consent of men and angells, +That which to take now from me will be losse +A losse of heaven to thee. Oh, do not pawne it +For a poore minutes sin. + +_Hen_. If't be a worke, madam, of so short time, +Pray let me beg a minutes privacy; +'Twill be soone done. + +_Ele_. Yes, but the horrour of +So foule a deed shall never: there's layd up +Eternity of wrath in hell for lust: +Oh, 'tis the devill's exercise! _Henrico_, +You are a man, a man whom I have layd up +Nearest my heart: in you 'twill be a sin +To threaten heaven & dare that Justice throw +Downe Thunder at you. Come, I know you doe +But try my vertue, whether I be proofe +Against anothers Battery: for these teares-- + +_Hen_. Nay, then I see you needs will try my strength: +My bloud's on fire, I boyle with expectation +To meete the pleasure and I will. + [_He forces her in_. + +_Ele_. Helpe, helpe! + + _Enter Buzzano_. + +_Buz_. Helpe? what nightingale was that? did one cry out for helpe? +there's no Christian soule in the house but they two & my selfe; and +'twas not mine, I know by the smallnes of the voice; twas some woman +cryde out, & therefore can be none but my young Lady,--it was she as +sure as I am hungry; he's with her. But why, having one man did she cry +out for more? oh, our _Spanish_ ovens are not heated with one Bavyn.[23] +Well, I must say nothing; my young Cocke has bene treading. Ile tread +softly & see what they doe:--but, see! + + _Enter Henrico & Eleonora, loose haired and weeping_. + +_Hen_. What doe you looke after? + +_Buz_. Why, sir, I looke after a voyce that appeard to me even now, +crying "helpe,"--a very small one. + +_Hen_. If what thou seest or heard'st be ever muttered by thee +Though in thy sleep, villaine, Ile pistol thee. + +_Buz_. Hum, it will not be safe to dreame of a knave shortly. Are you so +good at a gun? if you use this too often your birding piece will scarce +carry a yard levell. + +_Hen_. Come, dresse your hayre up & be wise at last: +No more, I have done. + +_Buz_. So I thinke in my conscience,--he hath done with her. + +_Hen_. If you can be so simple to proclaime it, +I can be impudent. + +_Ele_. Yet dar'st thou live? & doe I live to see +Myselfe the shame of weomen? have I not +Wept teares enough to drowne me? then let fire +Enthrone it selfe within me & beget +Prodigious Cometts, that with flaming haires +May threaten danger to thee! + +_Hen_. Nay, nay, nay, if you be so hott Ile brave you: like wine that's +burnt you must be set light by, & then you'le come to a temper. + [_Exit_. + +_Ele_. Oh, helpe me out of hell! + +_Buz_. Sh'has bene at Barleybreake.[24]--Madam I must say nothing: +--there is a Pistol and so forth:--but if you have occasion to use me, +try mee; if I doe not prove an honester man to you then my Master, +would my Cod piece point were broake. I know what I know, and yet Ile +tell no tales;--but if ever I come to speake once--I say nothing. + +_Ele_. Oh that I could not breath! how can I have +A Joy in life whose honour's in the Grave! + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +(SCENE 3.) + + + _Enter Pike with his sword in his hand, a Cloake in his Arme_. + +_Pike_. The freshnes of this Ayre does well after the saltnes of the +Sea. A pleasant Country, too, to looke upon, & would serve well to live +upon if a man had it & knew how to place it out of this hott Clymate! I +would I had a matter, or a Mannour, indeede, of a 1,000 acres of these +woodlands & roome to sett it in _Devonshire_; I would compare with any +prince betweene _Tavistoke_ & _Parradice_ for an Orchard. But I could +wish I were not alone here in this Conceit, dreaming of Golden Apples, +least they prove bitter fruite. Whether are our land soldiers straggeld, +troe? I would faine sett eye on some of them; Ile venture a little +farther; _Devonshire Dick_ was never afraid yet.--How now, my hearts? +upon a retreat so soone? + + _Enter Three Soldiers_. + +1. I, to the shipps; we have our loades here of the best merchandise we +can find in this Quarter. + +2. Will you taste a Lymon? excellent good to coole you. + +_Pike_. They are goodly ones; where gott you them? + +3. A little above here in an Orchard, where we left some of our Company. + +_Pike_. But may one goe safe, without danger? + +1. As safely as ever you gatherd nutts in _England_; the _Spaniards_ +are all fled. + +2. Not soe much as the leg of a _Spanyard_ left to squayle at their +owne appletrees. + [_Exeunt Soldiers_. + +_Pike_. Ile have a pull at these pomcitrons for my noble Captaine; +& if I had a Porters basket full of 'em I would count them no burthen +in requitall of some part of the love he hath shewen me. + + [_Exit_. + + + +(SCENE 4.) + + + _Enter 3 other Soldiers_. + +1. They cannot be far before us, I am sure. + +2. But for the hedge we might descry them within two muskett shott. + +3. Pray God the enemy be not within one musket shott of us behind their +hedges; for I am sure I saw an Harquebuse whip ore the way before us but +even now. Oh, oh! + + [_Three or 4 shott dischargd, 2 soldiers slaine, + the other falls on his belly_. + + _Enter Pike_. + +_Pike_. Are you bouncing? Ile no further. Sure these can be no +Crowkeepers nor birdscarers from the fruite! what rascalls were my +Countrymen to tell me there was no danger!--alas, what's here? 3 of +our soldiers slaine! dead, shott through the very bowells! so, is this +quite dead too? poore wretches, you have payd for your Capon sauce. + +3. Oh, oh! + +_Pike_. Here's some life in yt yet: what cheare? how is't, my heart of +gold? speake, man, if thou canst; looke this way; I promise thee 'tis an +honest man & a true _Englishman_ that speakes to thee. Thou look'st away +as if thou didst not trust me: I prithee speake to me any thing, Ile +take thy word & thanke the, too. Alas, I feare he's past it; he strives +and cannot speake.--'Tis good to shift this ground; they may be charging +more hidden villany while I stand prating heere.--He breathes still; +come, thou shalt not stay behind for want of leggs or shoulders to beare +thee. If there be surgery in our ships to recover the use of thy tongue, +thou mayst one day acknowledge a man & a Christian in honest _Dicke of +Devonshire_. Come along;--nay now I feare my honesty is betrayd;--a +horseman proudly mounted makes towards me, and 'tis a Don that thinkes +himselfe as brave as _St. Jaques_. What shall I doe? there is no +starting; I must stand th'encounter.--Lye still a while & pray if thou +canst, while I doe my best to save my owne & the litle breath thou hast +left. But I am in that prevented too: his breath's quite gone allready, +and all the Christian duty I have now left for thee is to close thy eyes +with a short prayer: mayst thou be in heaven, Amen.--Now _Don Diego, & +Don Thunderbolt_, or _Don Divell_, I defye thee. + + _Enter Don John arm'd. Pike drawes & wrapps + his Cloake about his arme_. + +_Jo_. Oh viliaco, diable, _Anglese_! + + [_They fight_. + +_Pike_. A pox upon thee, _Hispaniola_! Nay, if you be no better in the +Reare then in the Van I shall make no doubt to vanquish, & vanquash you, +too, before we part, my doughty _Don Diego_. + [_He hath him downe, & disarmes him_. + +_Jo_. Mercy, _Englishman_, oh spare my life! pardonne moye je vous pre. + +_Pike_. And take your goods? is that your meaning, _Don_, it shall be +so; your horse and weapons I will take, but no pilferage. I am no +pocketeer, no diver into slopps: yet you may please to empty them your +selfe, good _Don_, in recompense of the sweet life I give you; you +understand me well. This coyne may passe in _England_: what is your +Donship calld, I pray. + +_Jo_. _Don John_, a knight of _Spaine_. + +_Pike_. A knight of _Spaine_! and I a Squire of _Tavestock_: well, _Don +John_, I am a little in hast & am unmannerly constreynd to leave your +_Castilian_ on foote, while my _Devonshire_ worship shall teach your +_Spanish_ Jennett an _English_ gallop. A dios, signior.-- + + _Enter_ 12 _musketiers_. + +Oh what a tyde of fortunes spight am I +Now to swim through! beare up yet, Jovyall heart, +And while thou knowest heavenly mercy doe not start. +Once more let me embrace you, signior. + +1. I say he is an _Englishman_: lett's shoote him. + +2. I say the other is a _Spanyard_ & _Don John_; & we dare not shoote +the one for feare of killing th'other. + +_Jo_. Oh hold and spare us both, for we are frends. + +1. But by your leave we will part your embraces: so disarme, disarme. + +_Jo_. I thanke you, Countrymen; I hope you'le trust my honour with my +armes. + +1. Yes, take them signior; but you will yeild the _Englishman_ our +prisoner? + +_Jo_. Yes, with a Villaines marke. [_He woundes him_. + +1. A villaines mark, indeed! wound a disarmed souldier! + +_Jo_. He triumphd in the odds he had of me, +And he shall know that from the _Spanish_ race +Revenge, though nere so bloudy, is not base. +Away with him +A prisoner into th'Citty! + +_Pike_. Where you please, +Although your Law's more merciles then Seas. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +(SCENE 5.) + + + _Enter Don Ferdinando, the Teniente, with + attendants; Bustamente brought in with a Guard_. + +_Fer_. _Francisco Bustamente_, late Captaine of the Castle, +Stand forth accusd of Treason gainst his Maiesty. + +_Bust_. It is a language I not understand +And but that by the rule of loyalty +Unto my king and country I am made +Attendant to the Law, & in this honourd +Presence, the Governour & _Teniente_, +Under whose jurisdiction I hold place, +I would not beare nor heare it. + +_Fer_. I'de be glad +You could as easily acquitt your selfe +Of guilt as stand up in your owne defence; +But, _Bustamente_, when it doth appeare +To law & reason, on which law is grounded, +Your great offence in daring to betray +The Spanish honour unto Infamy, +In yeilding up the fort on such slight cause, +You can no lesse then yeild yourselfe most guilty. + +_Bust_. Farre be it from your thought, my honourd Lord, +To wrest the hazardous fortune of the warre +Into the bloudyer censure of the Law. +Was it my fault that in the first assault +The Canoniers were slayne, whereby our strength, +Our mayne offensive strength, was quite defeated +And our defensive part so much enfeebled +That possibility to subsist was lost, +Or by resistance to preserve one life? +While there was sparke of hope I did maintayne +The fight with fiery resolution +And (give me leave to speake it) like a Sodier. + +_Ten_. To my seeming your resolution +Was forwardest to yeild then to repell; +You had else stood longer out. + +_Bust_. We stood the losse of most of our best men, +And of our musketiers no lesse then fifty +Fell by the adverse shott; whose bodyes with their armes +Were cast by my directions downe a well +Because their armes should neyther arme our foes +Nor of our losse the sight give them encouragement. + +_Fer_. That pollicy pleades no excuse; you yet +Had men enough, had they bene soldiers, +Fit for a Leaders Justification. +And doe not we know that 6 score at least +Of those base Picaros with which you stuff'd +The fort, to feed, not fight,--unworthy of +The name of _Spanyards_, much lesse of soldiers-- +At once ran all away like sheep together, +Having but ore the walls descryde th'approach +Of th'Enemy? Some of the feare-spurrd villaines +Were overturnd by slaughter in their flight, +Others were taken & are sure to find +Our lawes as sharpe as either Sword or Bullet. +For your part, _Bustamente_, for that you have +Done heretofore more for your Countryes love, +You shall not doubt of honourable tryall, +Which in the Court of warre shalbe determind, +At _Sherris_, whitherward you instantly +Shall with a guard be sent.--See't done: away. + +_Bust_. The best of my desire is to obey. + + [_Exit with a Guard_. + + _Enter Don John, Pike (with his face wounded}, a Guard of musketts_. + +_Fer_. Whence is that soldier? + +1. Of _England_. + +_Jo_. Or of hell. + +1. It was our chance to come unto the rescue +Of this renowned knight, _Don John_, +Who was his prisoner as he now is ours. +Some few more of his mates we shott & slew +That were (out of their _English_ liquorishness) +Bold to robb orchards of forbidden fruite. + +2. It was a fine ambition; they would have thought +Themselves as famous as their Countryman +That putt a girdle[25] round about the world, +Could they have said, at their returne to _England_, +Unto their Sons, "Looke Boyes; this fruite your father +With his adventurous hands in _Spayne_ did gather." + +_Fer_. 'Tis a goodly fellow. + +1. Had you not better have gone home without Lymons to eate Capons with +your frends then to stay here without Capons to taste Lymons with us +that you call Enemyes? + +_Pike_. I could better fast with a noble Enemy then feast with unworthy +frends. + +_Fer_. How came he by these woundes? + +_Pike_. Not by noble Enemyes: this on my face +By this proud man, yet not more proud then base; +For, when my hands were in a manner bound, +I having given him life, he gave this wound. + +_Fer_. 'Twas unadvisd. + +_Ten_. The more unmanly done: +And though, _Don John_, by law y'are not accusd, +He being a common Enemy, yet being a man +You in humanity are not excusd. + +_Jo_. It was my fury & thirst of revenge. + +_Fer_. Reason & manhood had become you better; +Your honour's wounded deeper then his flesh. +Yet we must quitt your person & committ +The _Englishman_ to prison. + +_Ten_. To prison with him; but let best care be taken +For the best surgeons, that his wounds be look'd to. + +_Pike_. Your care is noble, and I yeild best thankes; +And 'tis but need, I tell your Seignioryes, +For I have one hurt more then you have seene, +As basely given & by a baser person: +A _Flemming_ seeing me led a prisoner +Cryde, "Whither doe you lead that _English_ dog, +Kill, kill him!" cryde hee, "he's no Christian;" +And ran me in the bodie with his halbert +At least four inches deepe. + +_Fer_. Poore man, I pitty thee.--But to the prison with him. + +_Ten_. And let him be carefully lookt to. + + [_Exeunt omnes_. + + + + +_Actus Tertius_. + +(SCENE 1.) + + + _Enter Captaine, Hill, Secretary, Jewell_. + +_Cap_. Our Generall yet shewd himselfe right noble in offering ransome +for poore Captive _Pike_. + +_Sec_. So largely, too, as he did, Captaine. + +_Cap_. If any reasonable price would have bene accepted it had bene +given Mr. Secretary, I assure you. + +_Jew_. I can testify that at our returne, in our Generalls name & my +owne, I made the large offer to the _Teniente_, who will by no meanes +render him. Sure they hold him for some great noble purchace. + +_Sec_. A Barronet at least, one of the lusty blood, Captaine. + +_Cap_. Or perhaps, Mr. Secretary, some remarkable Commonwealths man, a +pollitician in Government. + +_Sec_. 'Twere a weake state-body that could not spare such members. +Alas, poore _Pike_, I thinke thy pate holds no more pollicy than a +Pollax. + +_Hill_. Who is more expert in any quality then he that hath it at his +fingers ends; & if he have more pollicy in his braines then dirt under +his nayles Ile nere give 2 groates for a Calves head. But without all +question he hath done some excellent piece of villany among the Diegoes, +or else they take him for a fatter sheep to kill then he is. + +_Cap_. Well, gentlemen, we all can but condole the losse of him; and +though all that we all come hither for be not worth him, yet we must be +content to leave him. The fleete is ready, the wind faire, and we must +expect him no longer. + +_Hill_. He was a true _Devonshire_ blade. + +_Sec_. My Countryman, sir: therefore would I have given the price of a +hundred of the best Toledoes rather then heare the misse of him at home +complayned by his Wife and Children. + +_Jew_. Your tendernes becomes you, sir, but not the time, which wafts us +hence to shun a greater danger. + + _Exeunt_. + + + +(SCENE 2.) + + + _Enter Pike in shackles, nightcap, playsters on his face; a Jaylor_. + +_Pike_. The fleete is gone & I have now no hope of liberty; yet I am +well refreshd in the care hath bene taken for my cure. But was ever +_English_ horse thus _Spanish_ bitted & bossd![26] + +_Jay_. Sir, the care of your keeper, by whom this ease hath been +procured, requires remuneration. + +_Pike_. Here's for you, my frend. + +_Jay_. I assure you, the best Surgeons this part of _Spaine_ affoords, +through my care taken of you; & you may thanke me. + +_Pike_. What an arrogant rascall's this!--Sir, I thought my thankes +herein had chiefly appertaind to the humanity of the Governour, & that +your especiall care had bene in providing these necessary shackles to +keepe me from running into further danger: these I tooke to be the +strong bonds of your frendship. + +_Jay_. Sir, I hope they fitt you as well as if they had bene made for +you. Oh, I am so much your servant that I doe wish 'em stronger for your +sake. + +_Pike_. 'Tis overwell as it is, sir. + +_Jay_. You are most curteous. [_Exit_. + +_Pike_. A precious rogue! If the Jaylors be so pregnant what is the +hangman, troe? By the time my misery hath brought me to climbe to his +acquaintance I shall find a frend to the last gaspe. What's here? a +Lady? are the weomen so cruell here to insult ore Captive wretches. + + _Enter Catelyna & Jaylor_. + +_Cat_. Is this the English prisoner? + +_Jay_. Yes, madam. + +_Cat_. Trust me, a goodly person. + +_Pike_. She eyes me wistly; sure she comes not to instruct her selfe in +the art of painting by the patternes of my face! + +_Cat_. Sir, shall I speake with you? + +_Pike_. Yes, Lady, so you will not mock mee. + +_Cat_. Indeed I cannot, but must needs acknowledge +Myselfe beholding to you. + +_Pike_. This I must beare; I will doe soe & call't my sweet affliction. + +_Cat_. Will you heare me, sir? I am the Lady-- + +_Pike_. Yes, I doe heare you say you are the Lady; but let me tell you, +madam, that Ladyes, though they should have tenderest sence of honour & +all vertuous goodnesse, & so resemble Goddesses as well in soule as +feature, doe often prove dissemblers & in their seemely breasts beare +cruelty & mischiefe. If you be one of those, oh, be converted; returne +from whence you came & know 'tis irreligious, nay divelish to tread & +triumph over misery. + +_Cat_. How well he speakes, yet in the sence bewraying +A sence distracted: sure his captivity, +His wounds, & hard entreaty make him franticke! +Pray heare me, sir, & in two words Ile tell you +Enough to win beleeife: I am the Lady +Of the Knight vanquished by you, _Don John_. + +_Pike_. Y'have said enough, indeed: pitty of heaven, +What new invented cruelty is this! +Was't not enough that by his ruthlesse basenes +I had these wounds inflicted, but I must +Be tortured with his wifes uniust reioycings! +'Twas well his politicke feare, which durst not come +To glory in his handy worke himselfe, +Could send your priviledg'd Ladyship. + +_Cat_. Indeed, you much mistake me; as I live, +As I hope mercy & for after life, +I come for nothing but to offer thankes +Unto your goodnes, by whose manly temper +My lord and husband reassum'd his life; +And aske your Christian pardon for the wrong +Which by your suffering now pleads him guilty. +Good sir, let no mistrust of my iust purpose +Crosse your affection: did you know my love +To honour and to honest actions, +You would not then reiect my gratulations. +And since that deeds doe best declare our meaning, +I pray accept of this, +This money and these clothes and my request +Unto your keeper for best meats and wines +That are agreable to your health and taste. +And, honest frend, thou knowst and darest, I hope, +Believe me I will see thee payd for all. + +_Jay_. Yes, my good Lady.--Loe you, sir, you see +Still how my care provides your good: you may +Suppose the Governours humanity +Takes care for you in this, too. + +_Pike_. Excellent Ladye I doe now beleive +Virtue and weomen are growne frends againe. + + _Enter Don John_. + +_Jo_. What magicall Illusion's this? 'tis she! +Confusion seize your charitable blindnesse! +Are you a prison visiter for this, +To cherish my dishonour for your merit? + +_Cat_. My lord, I hope my Charity workes for your honour, +Releiving him whose mercy spard your life. + +_Jo_. But that I'me subiect to the law & know +My blowes are mortall, I would strike thee dead. +Ignoble & degenerate from Spanish bloud, +Darst thou maintaine this to be charity? +Thy strumpett itch & treason to my bed +Thou seekst to act in cherishing this villaine. + +_Cat_. Saints be my witnesses you doe me wrong! + +_Jo_. Thou robbst my honour. + +_Pike_. You wound her honour and you robb yourselfe, +And me and all good Christians, by this outrage. + +_Jo_. Doe you prate, sir? + +_Pike_. Sir, I may speake; my tongue's unshackled yet, +And, were my hands and feete so, on free ground +I would mayntayne the honour of this Lady +Against an Hoast of such ignoble husbands. + +_Jo_. You are condemnd allready by the Law +I make no doubt; and therefore speake your pleasure. +--And here come those fore whom my rage is silent. + + _Enter Ferdinando, Teniente, Guard_. + +_Fer_. Deliver up your prisoner to the _Teniente_. +I need not, sir, instruct you in your place +To beare him with a guard as is appointed +Unto the publicke tryall held at _Sherrys_. + +_Ten_. It shalbe done. + +_Fer_. How long hath he bene your prisoner? + +_Jay_. 18 days. + +_Fer_. You & the Surgeons out of the Kings pay +Ile see dischargd.--You have, according to the Order, +Conveyd already _Bustamente_ thither +To yeild account for yeilding up the Castle? + +_Ten_. 'Tis done, my Lord. + +_Fer_. _Don John_, you likewise in his Maiesties name +Stand chargd to make your personall appearance +To give in evidence against this prisoner. + +_Jo_. I shall be ready there, my Lord. + +_Pike_. To _Sherrys_? they say the best sackes there. +I meane to take one draught of dying comfort. + +_Cat_. I hope you'le not deny my company +To waite on you to _Sherris_? + +_Jo_. No, you shall goe to see your frend there totter.[27] + +_Pike_. I have a suite, my Lord; to see an _Englishman_, +A merchant, prisoner here, before I goe. + +_Fer_. Call him; that done, you know your charge. + + [_Exit Jaylor_. + +_Ten_. And shall performe it. + + [_Ex. Fer., John, Catalina_. + + _Enter Jaylor & Woodrow_. + +_Pike_. Oh, Mr. _Woodrow_, I must now take leave +Of prison fellowship with you. Your fortunes +May call you into _England_, after payment +Of some few money debts; but I am calld +Unto a further tryall: my debt is life, +Which if they take not by extortion, +I meane by tortures, I shall gladly pay it. + +_Wo_. I have heard, & thought you by what I had heard +Free from feares passion: still continue soe, +Depending on heavens mercy. + +_Pike_. You doe instruct me well; but, worthy Countryman, +Once more let me give you this to remember, +And tis my last request:--that when your better stars +Shall guide you into _England_, youle be pleasd +To take my Country _Devonshire_ in your way; +Wheir you may find in _Taverstoke_ (whom I left) +My wife & children, wretched in my misfortunes. +Commend me to them, tell them & my frends +That if I be, as I suspect I shalbe, +At _Sherris_ putt to death, I dyed a Christian soldier, +No way, I hope, offending my iust King +Nor my religion, but the _Spanish_ lawes. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +(SCENE 3.) + + + _Enter Don Pedro, reading a Letter, & Manuell_. + +_Man_. Dear sir, let me have power to recall +Your graver thoughts out of this violent storme +Of passion that thus oerwhelmes your mind. +Remember what you are, and with what strength, +What more then manly strength, you have outworne +Dangers of Battaile, when your warlike lookes +Have outfac'd horrour. + +_Pedro_. Oh, my son, my son, +Horrour it selfe upon the wings of Death, +Stretcht to the uttermost expansion +Over the wounded body of an Army, +Could never carry an aspect like this, +This murthering spectacle, this field of paper +Stucke all with Basiliskes eyes. Read but this word, +'The ravisht _Eleonora_!'--does't not seeme +Like a full cloud of bloud ready to burst +And fall upon our heads? + +_Man_. Indeed you take too deepe a sence of it. + +_Pedro_. What? when I see this meteor hanging ore it? +This prodigy in figure of a man, +Clad all in flames, with an Inscription +Blazing on's head, 'Henrico the Ravisher!' + +_Man_. Good sir, avoid this passion. + +_Pedro_. In battailes I have lost, and seene the falls +Of many a right good soldier; but they fell +Like blessed grayne that shott up into honour. +But in this leud exploit I lose a son +And thou a brother, my _Emanuell_, +And our whole house the glory of her name: +Her beauteous name that never was distayned, +Is by this beastly fact made odious. + +_Man_. I pray, sir, be your selfe and let your Judgement +Entertaine reason: From whom came this Letter? + +_Pedro_. From the sad plaintiffe, _Eleonora_. + +_Man_. Good; +And by the common poast: you every weeke +Receiving letters from your noble frendes +Yet none of their papers can tell any such tidings. + +_Pedro_. All this may be too, sir. + +_Man_. Why is her father silent? has she no kindred, +No frend, no gentleman of note, no servant +Whom she may trust to bring by word of mouth +Her dismall story. + +_Pedro_. No, perhaps she would not +Text up his name in proclamations. + +_Man_. Some villaine hath filld up a Cup of poyson +T'infect the whole house of the _Guzman_ family; +And you are greedyest first to take it downe. + +_Pedro_. That villaine is thy brother. + +_Man_. Were you a stranger +Armd in the middle of a great Battalion +And thus should dare to taxe him, I would wave +My weapon ore my head to waft you forth +To single combatt: if you would not come, +Had I as many lives as I have hayres,[28] +I'de shoot 'em all away to force my passage +Through such an hoast untill I met the Traytour +To my dear brother.--Pray, doe not thinke so, sir. + +_Pedro_. Not? when it shall be said one of our name +(Oh heaven could I but say he were not my son!) +Was so dishonorable, +So sacrilegious to defile a Temple +Of such a beauty & goodnes as she was! + +_Man_. As beauteous is my brother in his soule +As she can be. + +_Pedro_. Why dost thou take his part so? + +_Man_. Because no dropp of honour falls from him +But I bleed with it. Why doe I take his part? +My sight is not so precious as my brother: +If there be any goodnes in one man +He's Lord of that; his vertues are full seas +Which cast up to the shoares of the base world +All bodyes throwne into them: he's no drunkard; +I thinke he nere swore oath; to him a woman +Was worse than any scorpion, till he cast +His eye on _Eleonora_: and therefore, sir, +I hope it is not so. + +_Pedro_. Was not she so? + +_Man_. I doe not say, sir, that she was not so, +Yet women are strange creatures; but my hope +Is that my brother was not so ignoble. +Good sir, be not too credulous on a Letter: +Who knowes but it was forgd, sent by some foe, +As the most vertuous ever have the most? +I know my Brother lov'd her honour so +As wealth of kingdoms could not him entice +To violate it or his faith to her. +Perhapps it is some queint devise of theirs +To hast your journey homeward out of _France_, +To terminate their long-desired marriage. + +_Pedro_. The language of her letter speakes no such comfort, +But I will hasten home; &, for you are +So confident as not to thinke his honour +Any way toucht, your good hopes be your guide +Auspiciously to find it to your wish. +Therefore my counsaile is you post before, +And, if you find that such a wrong be done, +Let such provision instantly be +Betwixt you made to hide it from the world +By giving her due nuptiall satisfaction, +That I may heare no noise of't at my comming. +Oh, to preserve the Reputation +Of noble ancestry that nere bore stayne, +Who would not passe through fire or dive the mayne? + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +(SCENE 4.) + + + _Enter Fernando & Eleonora_. + +_Fer_. Cease, Eleonora, cease these needles plaints, +Less usefull than thy helpe of hands was at +The deed of darkness,--oh, the blackest deed +That ever overclouded[29] my felicity! +To speake, or weepe thy sorrow, but allayes +And quenches anger, which we must now cherish +To further iust revenge. How I could wish +But to call backe the strength of Twenty yeares! + +_Ele_. That I might be in that unborne againe, sir. + +_Fer_. No, _Eleonora_, that I were so ennabled +With my owne hands to worke out thy wronge +Upon that wretch, that villaine, oh, that Ravisher! +But, though my hands are palsyed with rage, +The Law yet weares a sword in our defence. + + _Enter Henrico_. + +_Ele_. Away, my Lord & Father! see the monster +Approaching towards you! who knowes but now +He purposeth an assassinate on your life, +As he did lately on my Virgin honour? + +_Fer_. Fury, keepe off me! + +_Hen_. What life, what honour meane you? _Eleonora_, +What is the matter? Who hath lost anything? + +_Ele_. Thou impudent as impious, I have lost-- + +_Hen_. Doe you call me names? + +_Ele_. The solace of my life, for which-- + +_Hen_. A fine new name for a maydenhead! + +_Ele_. May all the curses of all iniured weomen +Fall on thy head! + +_Hen_. Would not the curses of all good ones serve? +So many might perhaps be borne: but, pray, +Tell me what moves you thus? Why stand you soe +Aloofe, my Lord? I doe not love to bee +Usd like a stranger: welcome's all I looke for. + +_Fer_. What boldnesse beyond madnesse gives him languadge! +Nothing but well-bred stuffe! canst see my daughter +And not be strooke with horrour of thy shame +To th' very heart? Is't not enough, thou Traytour, +To my poore Girles dishonour to abuse her, +But thou canst yett putt on a divells visour +To face thy fact & glory in her woe? + +_Hen_. I would I were acquainted with your honours meaning all +this while. + +_Fer_. The forreine Enemy which came to the Citty +And twice dancd on the Sea before it, waving +Flaggs of defyance & of fury to it, +Were nor before nor now this second time +So cruell as thou. For when they first were here +Now well nigh 40 yeares since, & marched through +The very heart of this place, trampled on +The bosomes of our stoutest soldiers, +The weomen yet were safe, Ladyes were free +And that by the especial command +Of the then noble Generall: & now being safe +From common danger of our enemyes, +Thou lyon-like hast broake in on a Lambe +And preyd upon her. + +_Hen_. How have I preyd? + +_Fer_. Dost thou delight +To heare it named, villaine, th'hast ravisht her. + +_Hen_. I am enough abusd, & now 'tis time +To speake a litle for my selfe, my Lord. +By all the vowes, the oathes & imprecations +That ere were made, studied, or practised, +As I have a soule, as she & you have soules, +I doe not know, nor can, nor will confesse +Any such thing, for all your Circumventions: +Ile answer all by Law. + +_Ele_. Oh, my Lord, heare me! +By all that's good-- + +_Fer_. Peace, _Eleonora_; I have thought the Course. +If you dare justify the accusation +You shall to _Sherrys_, and then before the Judges +Plead your owne cause. + +_Hen_. And there Ile answer it. + +_Fer_. There, if you prove the Rape, he shalbe forcd +Eyther to satisfy you by marriage +Or else to loose his periurd head. + +_Hen_. I am content. +And instantly I will away to _Sherrys_, +There to appeale to the high Court of Justice: +'Tis time, I thinke, such slanderous accusations +Assayling me; but there I shalbe righted. + +_Fer_. You shall not need to doubt it:--come, _Eleonora_. + + [_Exeunt_.[30] + +_Hen_. What will become of me in this, I know not: +I have a shrewd guese though of the worst. +Would one have thought the foolish ape would putt +The finger in the eye & tell it daddy! +'Tis a rare guift 'mong many maides of these dayes; +If she speed well she'le bring it to a Custome, +Make her example followed to the spoyle +Of much good sport: but I meane to looke to't. +Now, sir, your newes? + + _Enter Buzzano_. + +_Buz_. The most delicious, rare, absolute newes that ere came out +of _France_, sir! + +_Hen_. What's done there? have they forsaken the Divell & all his +fashions? banishd their Taylors & Tyrewomen? + +_Buz_. You had a father & a Brother there; & can you first thinke upon +the Divell & his Limetwiggs. + +_Hen_. Had, _Buzzano_? had a father & a Brother there? have I not so, +still, _Buzzano_? + +_Buz_. No, sir, your Elder Brother is-- + +_Hen_. What? speake, _Buzzano_: I imagine, dead. + +_Buz_. Nay, you shall give me something by your leave; you shall pay the +poast:--good newes for nothing? + +_Hen_. Here, here, _Buzzano_; speake quickly, crowne me with the +felicity of a younger brother: is he dead, man? + +_Buz_. No, he's come home very well, sir; doe you thinke I goe on dead +men's errands. + +_Hen_. Pox on the Buzzard! how he startled my bloud! + +_Buz_. But he is very weary & very pensive, sir; talkes not at all, +but calls for his bed;--pray God your Father be not dead!--and desires +when you come in to have you his Bedfellow, for he hath private speech +with ye. + +_Hen_, Well, sir, you that are so apt to take money for newes, beware +how you reflect one word, sillable or thought concerning _Eleonora_: +you knowe what I meane? + +_Bus_. Yes, & meane what you know, sir. + +_Hen_. What's that? + +_Buz_. Ile keepe your Counsaile + +_Hen_. My life goes for it else. + + {_Exeunt_. + + + + +_Actus Quartus_. + +(SCENE 1.) + + + _Enter Henrico (as newly risen)_. + +_Hen_. _Buzzano_! slave! _Buzzano_! + + _Enter Buzzano with Cloake & Rapier_. + +_Buz_. Signior, what a buzzing you make, as if you were a fly at +Bartholomew-tyde at a Butchers stall: doe you think I am deafe? + +_Hen_. No, but blind; do'st sleepe as thou goest? + +_Buz_. No, but I goe as I sleepe, & that's scurvily. + +_Hen_. Call my brother Manuell. + +_Buz_. Brother _Manuell_! + +_Hen_. How? pray (goodman rascall) how long have he & you bene Brothers? + +_Buz_. I know not; may be ever since we were borne, for your father used +to come home to my mother, & why may not I be a chipp of the same blocke +out of which you two were cutt? Mothers are sure of their children, but +no man is able to sweare who was his father. + +_Hen_. You are very lusty. + +_Buz_. I eate eringoes[31] and potchd eggs last night. + +_Hen_. Goe & call him. + +_Buz_. What? + +_Hen_. You hound, is he up? + +_Buz_. No, he's in Bed, and yet he may be up too; Ile goe see. + +_Hen_. Stay, and speake low.--How now? + + [_Buz. falls downe_. + +_Buz_. I can speake no lower unlesse I creepe into the Cellar. + +_Hen_. I'me glad you are so merry, sir. + +_Buz_. So am I; my heart is a fiddle; the strings are rozend with ioy +that my other young Mr. is come home, & my tongue the sticke that makes +the fiddle squeake. + +_Hen_. Come hither, leave your fooling & tell me truely: didst sleepe +to night or no? + +_Buz_. Sleepe? Not that I remember: Ile sweare (& my eyes should come +out as 2 witnesses) that I nere slept worse; for what with ycur +_Spanish_ flyes (the pocky, stinging musquitoes) & what with your skip +Jacke fleas, the nap of my sleepe was worne off. + +_Hen_. Didst heare nothing? + +_Buz_. Not in my sleepe. + +_Hen_. Collect thy sences; when thou wert awake didst thou heare +nothing? + +_Buz_. Nothing. + +_Hen_. Twixt 12 & one? + +_Buz_. 12 & one? Then was I in my dead sleepe, cursing the fleas. + +_Hen_. Or about one & two. + +_Buz_. That's Three:--Now the Beetle[32] of my head beates it into my +memory that as you & your brother _Manuell_ lay in the high Bed, & I +trondling[33] underneath, I heard one of you talke most stigmatically in +his sleepe--most horriferously. + +_Hen_. Right, now thou com'st to me,--so did I. + +_Buz_. And then once or twice the sleepy voice cryde out, "Oh it was I +that murthered him! this hand killd him!" + +_Hen_. Art sure thou heardst this? + +_Buz_. Am I sure these are my eares? + +_Hen_. And dar'st thou sweare thou heardst it? + +_Buz_. Lay downe 20 oathes, and see if Ile not take them. + +_Hen_. And whose voice was it did appeare to thee? + +_Buz_. Whose voice was it? Well said, yong Master! make an asse of your +fathers man! + +_Hen_. Come, come, be serious: whose voice? + +_Buz_. Whose voice? why then, if your windpipe were slitt now and opend, +there should the voice be found. I durst at midnight be sworne that the +Ghost of your voice appeard before me. + +_Hen_. No; me it frighted too; up stood my haire stiffe & on end. + +_Buz_. As a Catts does at sight of a dog. + +_Hen_. A cold sweat pearld in dropps all ore my body; +For 'twas my Brothers voice, & were I calld +Before a thousand Judges I must sweare +It could be no mans els. + +_Buz_. Why, then, I must sweare so, too. + +_Hen_. "Oh it was I that murthered him! this hand killed him!" + +[_Within, Man_] _Buzzano_! + +_Hen_. He's up. + +[_Man_.] _Buzzano_! + +_Buz_. I come. + +_Hen_. Helpe to make him ready,[34] but not a word on thy life. + +_Buz_. Mum. [_Exit_. + +_Hen_. So let it worke; thus far my wheeles goe true. +Because a Captaine, leading up his men +In the proud van, has honour above them, +And they his vassailes; must my elder brother +Leave me a slave to the world? & why, forsooth? +Because he gott the start in my mother's belly, +To be before me there. All younger brothers +Must sitt beneath the salt[35] & take what dishes +The elder shoves downe to them. I doe not like +This kind of service: could I, by this tricke, +Of a voice counterfeited & confessing +The murther of my father, trusse up this yonker +And so make my selfe heire & a yonger brother +Of him, 'twere a good dayes worke. Wer't not fine angling? +Hold line and hook: Ile puzzle him. + + _Enter Manuell & Buzzano_. + +_Man_. Morrow, brother. + +_Hen_. Oh, good morrow: you have slept soundly. + +_Man_. Travellers that are weary have sleepe led in a string. + +_Buz_. So doe those that are hangd: all that travell & are weary doe +not sleepe. + +_Man_. Why, Mr. _Buzzano_, why? + +_Buz_. Midwives travell at night & are weary with eating groaning +pyes[36], & yet sleepe not: shall I hooke you? + +_Man_. Hooke me? what meanst? + +_Buz_. These Taylors are the wittyest knaves that live by bread. + +_Hen_. And why witty, out of your wisdome? + +_Buz_. In old time gentlemen would call to their men & cry, "Come, +trusse me": now the word is "Come, hooke me"; for every body now lookes +so narrowly to Taylors bills (some for very anger never paying them) +that the needle lance knights, in revenge of those prying eyes, put so +many hookes & eyes to every hose & dubblet. + +_Man_. Well, sir, Ile not be hookd then now. + +_Buz_. Tis well if you be not. [_Exit_. + +_Hen_. _France_ is an excellent country. + +_Man_. Oh, a brave one. + +_Hen_. Your Monsieurs gallant sparkes. + +_Man_. Sparkes? oh, sir, all fire, +The soule of complement, courtship & fine language; +Witty & active; lovers of faire Ladyes, +Short naggs & _English_ mastives; proud, fantasticke, +Yet such a pride & such fantasticknes, +It so becomes them, other Nations +(Especially the English) hold themselves +No perfect gentlemen till frenchifyed. + +_Hen_. Tush, _England_ breeds more apes than _Barbary_.-- +How chance my father came not home with you? + +_Man_. He was too hard tyed by the leg with busines. + +_Hen_. What busines? + +_Man_. Tis but stepping into _France_. +And he perhaps will tell you. + +_Hen_. Perhaps? tis well: +What part of _France_ did you leave him in? + +_Man_. What part? why I left him at _Nancy_ in _Lorraine_. No, no, +I lye, now I remember me twas at _Chaalons_ in _Burgundy_. + +_Hen_. Hoyda, a most loving child +That knowes not where he left his father, & yet +Comes but now from him! had you left in _France_ +Your whore behind you, in your Table bookes +You would have sett downe the streets very name, +Yes, and the baudy signe, too. + +_Man_. Hum, you say well, sir. +Now you are up to th'eares in Baudery, +Pray tell me one thing, Brother; (I am sorry +To putt forth such a question) but speake truly; +Have you not in my fathers absence done +A piece of worke (not your best masterpiece) +But such an one as on the house of _Guzman_ +Will plucke a vengeance, & on the good old man +(Our noble father) heape such hills of sorrow +To beate him into his grave? + +_Hen_. What's this your foolery? + +_Man_. Pray heaven it prove soe: have not you defac'd +That sweet & matchles goodnes, _Eleonora_, +_Fernando's_ daughter? + +_Hen_. How defacd her? + +_Man_. Hearke, sir: playd _Tarquin's_ part and ravisht her. + +_Hen_. 'Tis a lye. + +_Man_. I hope so too. + +_Hen_. What villaine speakes it? + +_Man_. One with so wide a throat, that uttering it +'Twas heard in _France_; a letter, sir, informed +My father so. + +_Hen_. Letter? from whom? + +_Man_. A woman. + +_Hen_. She's a whore. + +_Man_. Twas _Eleonora_. + +_Hen_. She's, then, a villanous strumpet so to write, +And you an asse, a coxcomb to beleeve it. + +_Man_. Nettled? then let me tell you that I feare +I shall for ever blush when in my hearing +Any names _Henrico Guzman_ for my brother. +In right of vertue & a womans honour +(This deare wrongd Ladies) I dare call thee Villaine. + +_Hen_. Villaine! + + _They fight: Enter Ferdinand and attendants_. + +_Fer_. Part them, part them! + +_Hen_. Let me see his heart +Panting upon my weapons point; then part us. +Oh, pray, forbeare the roome. + +_Fer_. Fy, Fy! two Brothers. +Two Eaglets of one noble Aery, +Pecke out each others eyes!--Welcome from _France_! +How does your honourd father? + +_Man_. Well, my Lord: +I left him late in Paris. + +_Hen_. So, so; in _Paris_! +Hath he 3 bodyes? _Lorraine, Burgundy, & Paris_! +My Lord, his Highnes putts into your hand +A sword of Justice: draw it forth, I charge you +By the oath made to your king, to smite this Traytour, +The murtherer of my father! + +_Man_. I? + +_Hen_. Yes, thou: +Thou, slave, hast bene his Executioner. + +_Man_. Where? when? + +_Hen_. There, there; in _France_. + +_Man_. Oh heavenly powers! + +_Hen_. Oh, intollerable villaine! parricide! +Monster of mankind! _Spaniards_ shame! + +_Fer_. Pray, heare me: +Are you in earnest? + +_Hen_. Earnest? + +_Fer_. Be advisd. + +_Hen_. Lay hold on him, the murtherer of my father: +I have armd proofes against him. + +_Man_. An armd devill, +And that's thy selfe! Produce thy proofes. + +_Hen_. I will, sir; +But I will doe't by law. + +_Fer_. You are up allready +Too deepe, I feare, in Law. + +_Hen_. If you can, sett then +Your foote upon my head & drowne me, your worst: +Let me have Justice here. + +_Fer_. Well, sir, you shall. +_Manuell_, I can no lesse than lay upon you +The hand of my authority. In my Caroach[37] +You shall with mee to _Sherris_, 3 leagues off, +Where the Lords sitt to-morrow: there you must answer +This most unbrotherly accusation. + +_Man_. And prove him a false caytiffe. + +_Fer_. I will be both your guard, sir, and your bayle +And make no doubt to free you from this Viper. + +_Hen_. Viper! + +_Fer_. Y'are bound to appeare at _Sherris_, sir; +And you were best not fayle. +I have a certaine Daughter there shall meete you. Come. + + [_Exit Fer., Man., &_[38] + +_Hen_. Thither I dare you both, all three.--_Buzzano_! + +_Buz_. Sir? + +_Hen_. Saddle my Jennet? Ile to _Sherris_ presently. + +_Buz_. And I? + +_Hen_. And you; but I must schoole you, sirra. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +(SCENE 2.) + + + _Enter Pike, shackled, & his Jaylour_. + +_Jay_. Boon Coragio, man! how is't? + +_Pike_. Not very well & yet well enough, considering how the cheating +dice of the world run. + +_Jay_. I dare not, though I have a care of you, ease you of one Iron +unles I desire such Gyves my selfe. + +_Pike_. Las, if they were all knockt off I'me loaden with Gyves, +Shackles, and fetters enough for the arrantest theefe that ever lay in +my owne country in Newgate. + +_Jay_. Shackles, gyves, and fetters enough! I see none but these at your +heeles, which come on without a shoeing horne. + +_Pike_. Yes, at my heart I weare them--a wife & children (my poore +Lambes at home); there's a chaine of sighes and sobbes and sorrow, +harder then any Iron; and this chaine is so long it reaches from +_Sherrys_ to _Tavestock_ in _Devonshire_. + +_Jay_. That's farre enough in Conscience. + +_Pike_. Could I shake those Chaines off I would cutt Capers: poore +_Dick Pike_ would dance though Death pip'd to him; yes, and spitt in +your Hangman's face. + +_Jay_. Not too much of that nayther: some 2 dayes hence he will give you +a choake peare[39] will spoyle your spitting. + +_Pike_. Pheu! + +_Jay_. For, let me see, to-day is Sunday; to-morrow the Lords sitt, and +then I must have a care--a cruell care--to have your leggs handsome and +a new cleane ruff band about your necke, of old rusty iron; 'twill purge +your choller. + +_Pike_. I, I, let it, let it: Collers, halters, & hangmen are to me +bracelets and frendly companions. + + [_Knocking-within_. + +_Jay_. So hasty? stay my leasure.--(_Enter 2 fryers_) +Two fryers come to prepare you. [_Exit_. + +I. Hayle, Countryman! for we, though fryers in _Spaine_, +Were born in _Ireland_. + +_Pike_. Reverend sir, y'are welcome: +Too few such visitants, nay none at all, +Have I seen in this damnable Limbo. + +2. Brother, take heed; doe not misuse that word +Of Limbo.[40] + +1. Brother _Pike_, for so we heare, +Men call you, we are come in pure devotion +And charity to your soule, being thereto bound +By holy orders of our mother Church. + +_Pike_. What to doe, pray, with me?[41] + +1. To point with our fingers +Out all such rockes, shelves, quicksands, gulfes, & shallowes +Lying in the sea through which you are to passe +In the most dangerous voyage you ere made: +Eyther by our care to sett you safe on land, +Or, if you fly from us your heavenly pilotts, +Sure to be wrackt for ever. + +_Pike_. What must I doe? + +2. Confesse to one of us what rancke and foule impostumes +Have bred about your soule. + +1. What Leprosies +Have run ore all your Conscience. + +2. What hott feavers +Now shake your peace of mind. + +1. For we are come +To cure your old Corruptions. + +2. We are come +To be your true and free Physitians. + +1. Without the hope of gold, to give you health. + +2. To sett you on your feete on the right way. + +1. To _Palestine_, the _New Jerusalem_. + +2. Say; +Will you unlocke the closet of your heart +To one of us? chuse which, & be absolvd +For all your blacke Crimes on a free confession? + +1. To him or me, for you must dye to morrow. + +_Pike_. Welcome! +To morrow shall I be in another country, +Where are no Examiners, nor Jayles, +Nor bolts, nor barres, nor irons. I beseech you +Give me a little respite to retire +Into the next roome, & I will instantly +Returne to give you satisfaction. + [_Exit_. + +_Ambo_. Goe, brother. + +1. A goodly man! + +2. Well limbd & strong of heart. + +1. Now I well view his face did not we two +At our last being in _Plymouth_ in disguise, +When there the King of _England_ rode about +To see the soldiers in their musterings +And what their armes were, just before this fleet +Sett out, did we not see him there? + +2. May be we did; I know not; if he were there 'tis now out of my +memory. + + _Enter Pike_. + +1. Are you resolvd? + +_Pike_. Yes. + +2. To confesse? + +_Pike_. I ha' don't already. + +1. To whom? + +_Pike_. To one who is in better place +And greater power then you to cure my sicke +Infected part, though maladies as infinite +As the sea sands, the grassy spears on earth, +Or as the dropps of raine & stars in the firmament +Stucke on me he can cleare all, cleanse me throughly. + +2. You will not then confesse? + +_Pike_. No, I confesse I will not. + +1. We are sorry for you; +For Countryes sake this Counsaile do I give you: +When y'are before the Lords rule well your tongue, +Be wary how you answer, least they tripp you; +For they know the whole number of your shipps, +Burthen, men & munition, as well +As you in _England_. + +_Pike_. I thanke you both. + +2. Prepare to dye. + [_Exeunt Fryers_. + +_Pike_. I will so.--Prepare to dye! An excellent bell & it sounds +sweetly. He that prepares to dye rigges a goodly ship; he that is well +prepard is ready to launch forth; he that prepares well & dyes well, +arrives at a happy haven. Prepare to dye! preparation is the sauce, +death the meate, my soule & body the guests; & to this feast will I goe, +boldly as a man, humbly as a Christian, & bravely as an _Englishman_. Oh +my Children, my Children! my poore Wife & Children! + + _Enter Jaylour, & 3 Spanish Picaroes chayned_. + +_Jay_. Here's a chearefull morning towards, my brave blouds! + +1. Yes, Jaylor, if thou wert to be hangd in one of our roomes. + +_Jay_. On, on; the Lords will sitt presently. + +2. What's hee? + +_Jay_. An _Englishman_. + +3. A dog! + +1. A divell! + +2. Let's beate out his braines with our Irons. + +_Jay_. On, on; leave rayling, cursing & lying: had you not run from the +Castle the hangman & you had bene "hayle fellow! well met:" On! + +_All_. Crowes pecke thy eyes out, _English_ dog, curre, toad, hell +hound! + [_Exeunt_. + +_Pike_. Patience is a good armour, humility a strong headpiece, would +I had you all three, I know where. + + _Enter Bustamente shackled, & Jaylor_. + +_Bust_. Whither dost lead me? + +_Jay_. To a roome by your selfe: 'tis my office to have a care of my +nurse children. + +_Bust_. I have worne better _Spanish_ gaiters: thus rewarded for my +service! + +_Jay_. See, Capt. _Bustamente_; doe you know this fellow? + +_Bust_. No. + +_Jay_. The Englishman brought prisoner into the Citty, & from thence +hither. + +_Pike_. Oh, Captaine, I saw you at the fort performe the part of a man. + +_Bust_. And now thou seest me acting the part of a slave. Farewell, +soldier. I did not hate thee at the first, though there we mett enemyes; +and if thou & I take our leaves at the Gallowes, prithee letts part +friends. + [_A Table out, sword & papers[42] + +_Jay_. Come along, you two. + +_Pike_. Hand in hand, if the Captaine please: noble _Bustamente_, +at the winning of the fort we had a brave breakfast. + +_Bust_. True, but I doubt not we shall have worse cheare at dinner. + +_Jay_. When was ever any meat well dressd in the hangmans kitchen! + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +(SCENE 3.) + + + _Enter Fernando, bareheaded, talking with the Duke of + Macada; Duke Gyron, Medyna, Marquesse d'Alquevezzas; + 2 Gen., one with Pikes sword, which is laid on a table; + Jaylour, Teniente; Clarke with papers_. + +_Mac_. Where's the _Teniente_? + +_Clarke_. The Duke calls for you. + +_Ten_. Here, my Lord. + +_Mac_. 'Tis the King's pleasure that those fugitives +Which basely left the fort should not be honourd +With a judiciall tryall, but presently +(Both those you have at home & these in _Sherrys_) +To dye by martiall law. + +_Ten_. My Lord, Ile see it done. + +_Mac_. Dispatch the rest here. + +_Jay_. Yes, my Lord; Ile bring them carefully together to end +the busines. + +_Gyr_. Bring _Bustamente_ in. + [_Exit Jaylour_. + +_Mac_. My Lords, here's _Don Fernando_ relates to me +Two stories full of wonder; one of his daughter, +Fam'd for her vertues, faire _Eleonora_, +Accusing _Don Henrico_, youngest sonne +To noble _Pedro Guzman_, of a rape; +Another of the same _Henrico's_, charging +His elder brother _Manuell_ with the murther +Of _Pedro Guzman_, who went late to _France_. + +_Gyr_. Are all the parties here? + +_Fer_. Yes. + [_Exit Fernan_. + + _Enter Jaylour, Bustamente, Guard_. + +_Gyr_. Bring them in. + +_Mac_. _Bustamente_, +The King, our master, looking with sharpe eyes, +Upon your trayterous yeilding up the fort, +Putts off your Tryall here; you must abide +Longer imprisonment. + +_Bust_. I have allready quitted +My selfe, my lord, of that which you call Treason, +Which had in any here (he doing the like) +Bene a high point of honour. + +_Alq_. These braves[43] cannot serve you. + +_Gyr_. You must not be your owne Judge. + +_Mac_. You gave the _English_ +More glory by your base ignoble rendring +That fort up then our Nation gott from them +In all our undertakings. + +_Bust_. Heare me, my Lords, + +_Mac_. Sir, sir, w'have other anviles; _Bustamente_, +Prepare your selfe for death. + +_Bust_. For all my service! + +_All_. Take him away! + +_Bust_. You are Lyons & I your prey. + + [_Exit with Jaylour_. + +_Mac_. Which are _Don Pedro's_ sons? + + _Enter Fernando, Henrico, Manuell_. + +_Fer_. These two. + +_Mac_. Which youngest? + +_Hen_. I, my Lord. + + _Enter Jaylour_. + +_Mac_. You charge this Gentleman, your elder brother, +With murther of your father. + +_Hen_. Which I can prove. + +_Mac_. And hither flyes a ravisht Ladyes voice +To charge you with a Rape; the wronged Daughter +Of this most noble Gentleman. + +_Hen_. Let them prove that + +_Mac_. These accusations & the proofes shall meete +Here face to face, in th' afternoone. Meantime +Pray, _Don Fernando_, let it be your care +To see these gentlemen attended on +By a strong guard. + +_Fer_. The wrongs done to my selfe +Work me, my lord, to that. + +_Man_. I would your Grace would heare me speake a little. + +_All_. You shall have time. + +_Med_. Take them away, +And at their Tryall have the Lady here. + + [_Ex. Fer., Hen., Man., & Jaylour_. + +_Gyr_. Where is the _Englishman_? + +_Clarke_. The _Englishman_! + +_Alq_. What do you call him? _Dick of Devonshire_? + +_Med_. Because he is a soldier let him have +A soldier's honour; bring him from his prison +Full in the face of the whole Towne of _Sherrys_, +With drums and musketts. + +_Mac_. How many soldiers are in the Towne? + +_Clarke_. 5000. + +_Med_. Let 200 march hither along with him as his guard: where's +the _Teniente_? + +_Ten_. Here, my Lord. + +_Med_. Pray, see this done & in good order. + +_Ten_. I shall. [_Exit_. + + _Enter Don John below_. + +_Gyr_. What makes _Don John_ here? Oh, now I remember: +You come against the _Englishman_. + +_Jo_. Yes, my Lord. + + _Enter his Lady and a Gentlewoman above_. + +_Mac_. Give me the Note there of the _English_ advertisements. + + [_They all conferre_. + +_Lady_. Here may we see & heare: poore _Englishman_! +Sadnes! I cast on thee a noble pitty, +A pitty mixt with sorrow that my Husband +Has drawne him to this misery, to whom +The soldier gave life being at his mercy. + +_Gent_. Twas bravely done, no doubt he'le speed the better +For his mind. + +_Lady_. I visited him in prison, +And did with much adoe win from _Don John_ +This journey, for I vowd to see th'event +How they will deale with him. + +_Gent_. I hope most fairely. + + _Enter 2 drums, Teniente, divers musketts, Fernando + with Pike (without band, an Iron about his necke, 2 + Chaines manackling his wrists, a great chaine at his + heeles); Jaylour, 3 or 4 halberts. A Barre sett out_. + +_Clarke_. Silence! + +_Mac_. You see how much our _Spanish_ soldiers love you +To give this brave attendance; though your Nation +Fought us & came to hunt us to our deathes. + +_Pike_. My Lords, this, which in shew is brave attendance +And love to me, is the worldes posture right, +Where one man's falling downe setts up another. +My sorrowes are their triumphes; so in kings courts, +When officers are thrust out of their roomes, +Others leape laughing in while they doe mourne. +I am at your mercy. + +_Mac_. Sirra _Englishman_, +Know you that weapon?--reach it him. + +_Pike_. Yes, it +Was once mine; and drawes teares from me to think +How 'twas forced from me. + +_Mac_. How many _Spanyards_ +Killd you with that sword? + +_Pike_. Had I killd one +This Barre had nere bene guilty of my pleading +Before such Princely Judges: there stands the man. + +_Gyr_. _Don John_, sett he on you or you on him? + +_Jo_. He upon me first. + +_Pike_. Let me then be torne +Into a thousand pieces. + +_Lady_. My Husband speaks untruth. + +_Alq_. Sett he on you first? more coward you to suffer an enemy be +aforehand. + +_Pike_. Indeed in _England_ my countrymen are good at bidding stand; but +I was not now upon a robbery but a defence, sett round with a thousand +dangers. He sett upon me; I had him at my feete, sav'd him, and for my +labour was after basely hurt by him. + +_Fer_. This was examined by me, my Lords; +And _Don John_, thus accusd, was much ashamd +Of his unmanly dealing. + +_Gyr_. He may be now soe. + +_Lady_. I blush for him my selfe. + +_Alq_. Disgrace to _Spanyards_! + +_Mac_. Sirra, you _English_, what was the ship you came in? + +_Pike_. The _Convertine_. + +_Mac_. What Ordnance did she carry? + +_Pike_. 40 peeces. + +_Gyr_. No, sir, but 38; see here, my Lord. + +_Alq_. Right, no more then 38. + +_Mac_. Your fort at _Plymouth_ strong? + +_Pike_. Yes, very strong. + +_Mac_. What Ordnance in't? + +_Pike_. 50 Peeces. + +_Gyr_. Oh fye, doe not belye your country; there's not so many. + +_Alq_. How many soldiers keepe you in that fort? + +_Pike_. 200. + +_Mac_. Much about such a number.--There is a little iland before +_Plymouth_: What strength is that of? + +_Pike_. I doe not know. + +_Gyr_. We doe, then. + +_Alq_. Is _Plymouth_ a walld Towne? + +_Pike_. Yes, it is walld. + +_Mac_. And a good wall? + +_Pike_. A very good strong wall. + +_Gyr_. True tis a good strong wall, and built so high +One with a leape staffe may leape over it. + +_Mac_. Why did not your good navy, being in such bravery, +As it tooke _Puntall_ seize _Cales_? + +_Pike_. Our Generall +Might easily have tane it, for he had +Almost a thousand scaling ladders to sett up; +And without mayme to's army he might loose +A thousand men: but he was loath to robb +An almes-house when he had a richer market +To buy a conquest in. + +_Mac_. What was that market? + +_Pike_. _Genoa or Lisbon_: wherefore should we venture +Our lives to catch the wind, or to gett knockes +And nothing else. + [_They consult_. + +_Mac_. A poast with speed, to _Lisbon_, +And see't well mand. + +_Ten_. One shalbe sent, my Lord. + + [_Exit. The soldiers laugh_. + +_Alq_. How now, why is this laughter? + +_Fer_. One of the soldiers, being merry among themselves, is somewhat +bold with th'_English_, and sayes th'are dainty Hennes. + +_All_. [_Alq_.?] Hens! ha, ha, ha! + +_Mac_. Sirra, view well these soldiers, +And freely telle us, thinke you these will prove +Such hens as are your _English_, when next yeare +They land in your owne Country. + +_Pike_. I thinke they will not, +My lord, prove hens, but somewhat neere to hens. + +_Mac_. How mean'st thou? + +_Pike_. Let my speech breed no offence: +I thinke they would prove pulletts. + +_Gyr_. Dar'st thou fight +With any one of these our _Spanish_ pulletts? + +_Pike_. What heart have I to fight when tis beaten flatt +To earth with sad afflictions? can a prisoner +Glory in playing the Fencer? my life's at stake +Allready; can I putt it in for more? +Our army was some 14000 men +Of which more than 12000 had spirits so high +Mine never shall come neere them: would some of them +Were here to feed your expectations! +Yet, silly as I am, having faire pardon +From all your Graces and your Greatnesses, +Ile try if I have strength in this chayned arme +To breake a rapier. + +_Mac_. Knock off all his gyves; +And he that has a stomacke for _Spaines_ honour +To combate with this _Englishman_, appeare. + +_Pike_. May he be never calld an _Englishman_ +That dares not looke a divell in the face, [_One stepps forth_. +Come he in face of man, come how he can. + +_Mac_. Your name? + +_Tia_. _Tiago_. + +_All_. Well done _Tiago_. + +_Mac_. Let drums beate all the time they fight. + +_Lady_. I pray for thee. + +_Gent_. And I. + + [_They fight: Pike disarmes & tripps him downe_. + +_Pike_. Onely a _Devonshire_ hugg, sir:--at your feete +I lay my winnings. + +_Tia_. Diable! + + [_Exit, biting his thumb[44]; the soldiers stampe_. + +_Gyr_. Wilt venter on oanother? + +_Pike_. I beseech you +To pardon me, and taske me to no more. + +_Alq_. Come, come, one more; looke you, here's a young Cockerell[45] +Comes crowing into the pitt. + [_Another steps in_. + +_All_. Prithee, fight with him. + +_Pike_. I'me in the Lyon's gripe & to gett from him +There's but one way; that's death. + +_Mac_. _English_, What say you? will you fight or no? + +_Pike_. Ile fight. + +_All_. Give 'em roome! make way there! + +_Pike_. Ile fight till every Joynt be cutt in pieces +To please such brave spectators; yes Ile fight +While I can stand, be you but pleasd, my Lords, +The noble Dukes here, to allow me choice +Of my owne Country weapon. + +_All_. What? + +_Pike_. A Quarter staffe,--this, were the head off. + +_Mac_. Off with the head, and roome! +How dost thou like this _Spaniard_? + +_Pike_. Well: he's welcome. +Here's my old trusty frend: are there no more? +One! what, but one? why, I shall make no play, +No sport before my princely Judges with one. +More sackes to the Mill! come, another! what, no more? + +_Mac_. How many wouldst thou have? + +_Pike_. Any number under six. + +_All_. Ha, ha, sure he's mad! + +_Mac_. Dar'st coape with Three? + +_Pike_. Where are they? let 'em shew their faces: so; welcome! + +_Mac_. How dost thou like these chickens? + +_Pike_. When I have drest them +With sorrell sopps Ile tell you. + +_Lady_. Now guard him heaven! + + [_Drums. They fight, one is killd, the other 2 disarmed_. + +1. Hell take thy Quarter staffe! + +2. Pox on thy quarters! + +_Mac_. The matter? why this noyse? + + [_A noyse within of Diable Englese_. + +_Jay_. The soldiers rayle, stampe & stare, and sweare to cutt +His throat for all the Jaylors care of him. + +_Mac_. Make proclamation, my lord _Fernando_, +That who soever dares but touch his finger +To hurt him, dyes. + +_Fer_. I will, sir. [_Exit_. + +_Lady_. This is done nobly. + +_Mac_. Here, give him this gold. + +_Ten_. The Duke _Macada_ gives you this gold. + +_All_. And this. + +_Ten_. The Duke of _Medina_ this; Duke _Gyron_ this; +&, looke you, the Marquesse _Alqueveza_ as much as all the rest. + +_Alq_. Where's any of my men? give him your Cloake, sirra; +Fetch him cleane Band and Cuffs. I embrace thee, _Pike_; +And hugg thee in my armes: scorne not to weare +A _Spanish_ livery. + +_Pike_. Oh, my Lord, I am proud of't. + +_Mac_. He shalbe with a Convoy sent to the King. + +_Alq_. 4 of my gentlemen shall along with him: +Ile beare thy charges, soldier, to _Madrid_, +5 peeces of 8 a day in travell, & +Lying still thou shalt have halfe that. + +_Pike_. On my knees +Your vassaile thankes heaven, you, and these Princes. + +_Mac_. Breake up the Court till afternoon: then the 2 _Guzmans_ tryall. + +_All_. Come, _Englishman_. + +_Med_. How we honour valour thus our loves epresse: +Thou hast a guard of Dukes and Marquesses. + + [_Exeunt all_. + + + + +_Actus Quintus_. + +(SCENE 1.) + + + _Enter Teniente & Henrico_. + +_Ten_. The Lords are not yett risen: let us walke & talke. +Were not you better yeild to marry her +Then yeild to suffer death? know you the law? + +_Hen_. Law! yes; the spiders Cobweb[46], out of which great flyes breake +and in which the little are hangd: the Tarriers snaphance[47], +limetwiggs, weavers shuttle & blankets in which fooles & wrangling +coxcombes are tossd. Doe I know't now or not? + +_Ten_. If of the rape she accuse you 'tis in her choise +To have you marry her or to have you hangd[48]. + +_Hen_. Hangd, hangd by any meanes! marry her? had I +The King of _Spaines_ 7 Kingdomes, +_Gallicia, Navarre_, the 2 _Castiles, +Leon, Arragon, Valentia, Granada_, +And _Portugall_ to make up 8, Ide lose them +All to be rid of such a piece of flesh. + +_Ten_. How? such a piece of flesh? Why, she has limbes +Mad out of wax.[49] + +_Hen_. Then have her to some faire +And shew her for money. + +_Ten_. Is she not sweet complexiond? + +_Hen_. As most Ladyes are that studye painting. + +_Ten_. What meate will downe your throat, when you scorne pheasant, +partridge, woodcocke & coney? Would I had such a dish. + +_Hen_. Woodcocke and coney take to you, my _Don Teniente_; Ile none; and +because you keepe such a wondering why my stomach goes against the wench +(albeit I might find better talke, considering what ladder I stand upon) +Ile tell you, signior, what kind of wife I must have or none. + +_Ten_. Pray let me see her picture. + +_Hen_. Draw then this curtaine: +Give me a wife that's sound of wind and limbe; +Whose teeth can tell her age; whose hand nere felt +A touch lascivious; whose eyes are balls +Not tossd by her to any but to me; +Whose breath stinkes not of sweatmeates; whose lippes kisse +Onely themselves and mine; whose tongue nere lay +At the signe of the _Bell_. She must not be a scold, +No, nor a foole to be in love with Bables[50]; +No, nor too wise to think I nere saile true +But when she steares the rudder. I'de not have +Her belly a drum, such as they weave points on, +Unles they be taggd with vertue; nor would I have +Her white round breasts 2 sucking bottles to nurse +Any Bastards at them. + +_Ten_. I believe you would not. + +_Hen_. I would not have her tall, because I love not +To dance about a May pole; nor too lowe +(Litle clocks goe seldome true); nor, sir, too fatt +(Slug[51] shipps can keepe no pace); no, nor too leane, +To read Anatomy lectures ore her Carcas. +Nor would I have my wife exceeding faire, +For then she's liquorish meate; & it would mad me +To see whoremasters teeth water at her, +Red haird by no meanes, though she would yeild money +To sell her to some Jew for poyson. No, +My wife shall be a globe terrestriall, +Moving upon no axeltree but mine; +Which globe when I turne round, what land soever +I touch, my wife is with me, still Ime at home. + +_Ten_. But where will you find such a wife on earth? + +_Hen_. No, such a wife in the Moone for me doth tarry: +If none such shine here I with none will marry. + +_Ten_. The Lordes are come. + +_Hen_. I care neyther for Lords nor Ladies. + + _Enter the Nobles as before; Fernando, Manuell, Clarke, Jaylor_. + +_Mac_. Where are these gentlemen? sett 'em both to a Barre +And opposite, face to face: a Confrontation +May perhaps daunt th'offender & draw from him +More then he'de utter. You accuse your Brother +As murtherer of your father: where's the proofe? + +_Hen_. First call my fathers man in. + +_Clark_. What's his name? + +_Hen_. _Buzzano_. + +_Clark_. Call _Buzzano_ in! + + _Enter Buzzano_. + +_Buz_. Here I am, here. + +_Clark_. Stand out: whither goe you? + +_Buz_. To stand out. + +_Clark_. Stand there. + +_Mac_. Now what can he say? + +_Hen_. First, my Lord, heare mee: +My brother & I lying in one bed together, +And he just under us-- + +_Buz_. In my fleabitten Trundle bed.[52] + +_Clark_. Peace, sirra. + +_Hen_. About midnight I awaking, +And this _Buzzano_ too, my brother in his sleepe +Thus cryde out, "Oh, twas I that murtherd him, +This hand that killd him"! + +_Gyr_. Heard you this, sirra? + +_Buz_. As sure as I heare you now. + +_Alq_. And you'le be sworne 'twas he that so cryde out? + +_Buz_. If I were going to be hangd Ide sweare. + +_Clark_. Forbeare the Court. + [_Exit Buzzano_. + +_Mac_. All this is but presumption: if this be all +The shott you make against him your bullets stick +In a mud wall, or if they meete resistance +They backe rebound & fly in your owne face. + +_Med_. Bring your best forces up, for these are weak ones. + +_Hen_. Then here I throw my glove & challenge him +To make this good upon him: that at comming home +He first told me my father dyed in France, +Then some hours after that he was not dead +But that he left him in _Lorraine_ at _Nancy_, +Then at _Chaalons_ in _Burgundy_, & lastly +He said to _Don Fernando_ he was in _Paris_. + +_Fer_. He did indeed. + +_Mac_. What then? + +_Hen_. Then, when in's chamber we were going to bed, +He suddenly lookd wild, catchd me by the hand +And, falling on his knees, with a pale face +And troubled conscience he confessed he killd him, +Nay, swore he basely murtherd him. + +_Mac_. What say you to this? + +_Alq_. Now he comes close up to you. + +_Man_. He is my murtherer +For I am none, so lett my Innocence guard me. +I never spake with a distracted voice; +Nere fell to him on my knees; spake of no father, +No murtherd father. He's alive as I am, +And some foule divell stands at the fellowes elbow, +Jogging him to this mischefe. The Villaine belyes me, +And on my knees, my lord, I beg that I +And my white Innocence may tread the path +Beaten out before us by that man, my brother. +Command a case of rapiers to be sent for, +And lett me meete his daring. I know him valiant; +But I am doubly armd, both with a Courage +Fiery as his can be, and with a cause +That spitts his accusation full in the face. + +_Mac_. The combate in this case cannot be granted, +And here's the reason: when a man accuses +A frend, much more a brother, for a fact +So foule as murther (murther of a father), +The Law leapes straight way to the Challenger +To take his part. Say he that doth accuse +Should be decrepitt, lame and weake, or sickly, +The other strong and lusty; thinke you a kingdome +Will hazard so a subject, when the quarrell +Is for a kingdomes right? If y'are so valiant +You then must call the law into the field +But not the man. + +_Man_. I have done; let law proceed. + +_Mac_. This cannot serve your turne, say he does belye you; +He stakes against your body his owne soule. +Say there is no such murther, yet the Law +Fastens on you; for any man accusd +For killing of his father may be rackd +To draw confession from him. Will you confesse? + +_Man_. I cannot, must not, will not. + +_Mac_. Jaylour, take & prepare him for the racke: +Wele see it done here. + +_Hen_. You are righteous Judges. + +_Man_. Oh villaine, villaine, villaine! + + [_Exit with the Jaylour_. + +_Med_. Where's the wrongd Lady? + +_Alq_. Stand you still at the Barre. +You are now another man, sir; your scale turnes. + + _Fernando fetches in Eleonora_. + +_Mac_. Looke on the prisoner: doe you know him, Lady? + +_Ele_. Would I had nere had cause to say I know him. + +_Mac_. Of what doe you accuse him? + +_Ele_. As the murtherer +Both of my name and honour. In the hurry, +When the Citty (they said) was ready to be taken, +I being betrothed to this young gentleman, +My father brought me to his father's house, +Telling me their dwelt safety.--There dwelt villany, +Treason, lust, basenes! for this godlesse man +(The storme being ore) came in & forcd from me +The Jewell of my virgin honour. + +_Hen_. False! + +_Fer_. I would not have thee thinke (thou graceles wretch) +She, being contracted to thee, loving thee, +Loving thee far more dearly then her selfe, +Would wound her vertue soe, so blott her fame +And bring a scandall on my house & me, +Were not the fact most true. + +_Hen_. Most false by all that ever man can sweare by. +We falling out, I told her once I nere +Would marry her; & soe she workes this mischiefe. + +_Gyr_. You here stand chargd for ravishing her, & you +Must marry her or she may have your life. + +_Mac_. Lady, what say you? which had you rather have, +His life or him? + +_Ele_. I am not cruell; pay me my first Bond +Of marriage, which you seald to, & I free you +And shall with Joy run flying to your armes. + +_All_. Law you?[53] + +_Mac_. That's easy enough. + +_Hen_. Rackes, Gibbetts, wheeles make sausages of my flesh first! +Ile be ty'd to no man's Strumpet. + +_Alq_. Then you muste look to dye. + +_Mac_. Lady, withdraw. + +_Hen_. Well, if I doe, somebody shall packe. + +_Ele_. Oh me, unfortunate Creature! [_Exit_. + + _Enter Manuell to be rackt; Jaylour & Officers_. + +_Med_. _Don Manuell Guzman_ ere you taste the tortures, +Which you are sure to feele, will you confesse +This murther of your father? + +_Man_. Pray, give me privacy a little with my brother. + +_All_. [_Alq_.?] Take it. + +_Man_. O brother your owne Conscience knowes you wrong me: +Ile rather suffer on the Gallow Tree +Then thus be torne in pieces. Canst thou see mee +Thus worryed amongst hangmen? deare _Henrico_, +For heavens sake, for thine owne sake pitty mee. + +_All_. [_Alq_.?] What sayes he? + +_Hen_. Cunning, cunning, cunning Traytour! +In my eare he confesses all again and prayes me +To speake to you. + +_Mac_. Will you openly confesse? + +_Man_. No, no, I cannot. Caytiffe, I spake not soe: +I must not wound my Conscience to lay on it +A guilt it knowes not. Ile not so dishonour +My father, nor my ancestours before me, +Nor my posterity with such an earthquake +To shake our noble house. + +_Mac_. Give him the Law then. + +_Man_. Ile meete a thousand deaths first. + +_Hen_. Plucke, & plucke home, for he's a murtherous Villaine. + +_Man_. Thou worse, a divell. + +_Mac_. Racke him! + +_Man_. Oh stay! for heavens sake spread your mercy! +I doe confesse the murther; I killd my father. + +_All_. Take him off! + +_Man_. This hand stabbd him. + +_Mac_. Where? + +_Man_. Neere _St. Germains_ +In _Paris_, in a darke night, & then I fled. + +_Mac_. Thy owne tongue is thy Judge; take him away: +To-morrow looke to dye: send him a Confessour. + +_Jay_. Ile have a holy care of him. + + [_Exit Manuell, led by the Jaylour_. + +_Hen_. Who's now, my lords, the Villaine? + + _Enter Eleonora & Buzzano_. + +_Ele_. Oh Justice, here's a witnesse of my Rape. + +_Mac_. Did you see't, sirra? + +_Buz_. See't! no, sir, would I had; but when she was in labour I heard +her cry out "helpe! helpe!" & the Gamboll being ended she came in like +a mad woman, ruffled & crumpled, her haire about her eares; & he all +unbrac'd, sweating as if he had bene thrashing; & afterwards he told me, +my lords, that he had downe diddled her. + +_Hen_. I now am lost indeed, & on my knee +Beg pardon of that goodnes, that pure Temple +Which my base lust prophand, & will make good +My wrongs to her by marriage. + +_Mac_. What say you, Lady? + +_Ele_. He spurnd my mercy when it flew to him +And courted him to kisse it; therefore now +Ile have his life. + +_Fer_. That life, so had, redeemes +Thine & thy fathers infamy. Justice! my Lords. + +_Hen_. Cruell Creature! + +_Mac_. Take him away & lead him to his brother; +You both must die next morning. + +_Hen_. I deserve it; +And so that Slave, too, that betrayed his Master. + +_Buz_. Why should I not betray my Master, when he betrayed his Mistris. + +_Ele_. Get you gone, sirra. + + [_Exeunt Henrico & Buzzano_. + +_Mac_. You are dismissd: Faire Lady, +You shall have Law, your Ravisher shall dye. + +_Ele_. Oh that my life from death could sett him free! + [_Exit_. + +_Mac_. Pray, _Don Fernando_, follow her & soften +Her heart to pitty the poore gentleman: +The Crime is not so Capitall. + +_Fer_. Ile doe my best. + [_Exit_. + +_Mac_. That such a noble _Spanyard_ as _Don Pedro_ +Should be so cursed in's Children! + + _Enter Buzzano, Don Pedro, Fernando & Eleonora_. + +_Buz_. Hee's come, hee's come, my Lord! _Don Pedro Gusman_ is still +alive,--see, see! + +_Mac_. Let us descend to meet a happinesse +Crownes all our expectations. + +_Pedro_. Whilst I meet +A Thunder strikes me dead. Oh, poore, wrongd Lady, +The poyson which the villaine poures on thy honour +Runs more into my veines then all the Venome +He spitts at me or my deare Boy, his brother. +My Lords, your pardon that I am transported +With shame & sorrow thus beyond my selfe, +Not paying to you my duty. + +_All_. Your love, _Don Pedro_. + +_Mac_. Conceale your selfe a while; your sons wele send for, +And shew them deaths face presently. + +_Pedro_. Ile play a part in't. [_Exit_. + +_Mac_. Let them be fetcht, & speake not of a father. + +_Ten_. This shall be done. [_Exit_. + +_Mac_. Is your Compassion, Lady, yet awake? +Remember that the scaffold, hangman, sword, +And all the Instruments death playes upon, +Are hither calld by you; 'tis you may stay them. +When at the Barre there stood your Ravisher +You would have savd him, then you made your choyce +To marry him: will you then kill your husband? + +_Ele_. Why did that husband then rather chuse death +Then me to be his bride? is his life mine? +Why, then, because the Law makes me his Judge, +Ile be, like you, not cruell, but reprieve him; +My prisoner shall kisse mercy. + +_Mac_. Y'are a good Lady. + +_Med_. Lady, untill they come, repose your selfe. + + [_Exit Eleonora_. + +_Mac_. How now? so soone come back? why thus returned? + + _Enter Pike & a Gentleman, with Letters_. + +_Gen_. Our Journey to _Madrid_ the Kinge himselfe +Cutts off, by these his royall letters sent +Upon the wings of speed to all your Graces. +He lay one night since at your house, my Lord +Where, by your noble Wife, he had a wellcome +Fitting his greatnes & your will. + +_Alq_. I'me glad of't. + +_Mac_. The King, our Master, writes heere, _Englishman_, +He has lost a subiect by you; yet referres +Himselfe to us about you. + +_Pike_. Againe, I stand heere +To lay my own life downe, please his high Maiesty +To take it: for what's lost his fate to fall +Was _fortune de la guerre_, & at the feete +Of his most royal Maiesty & at yours +(My Princely Lords & Judges) low as th'earth +I throw my wretched selfe & begg his mercy. + +_Mac_. Stand up; that mercy which you aske is signd +By our most royall master. + +_Pike_. My thankes to heaven, him & your Graces. + +_Mac_. The King further writes heere, +That though your Nation came in Thunder hither +Yet he holds out to you his Enemy +2 friendly proffers: serve him in his dominions +Eyther by land or sea, & thou shalt live +Upon a golden pension, such a harvest +As thou nere reapst in _England_. + +_Pike_. His kingly favours +Swell up in such high heapes above my merit, +Could I reare up a thousand lives, they cannot +Reach halfe the way. Ime his, to be his Vassaile, +His Gally Slave, please you to chaine me to the oare; +But, with his highnes pardon & your allowance, +I beg one Boone. + +_All_. What is't? + +_Pike_. That I may once more +See my owne Country Chimneys cast out smoake. +I owe my life and service to the King, +(The king of _England_) let me pay that Bond +Of my allegeance; &, that being payd, +There is another obligation, +One to a woefull Wife & wretched Children +Made wretched by my misery. I therefore beg, +Intreat, emplore, submissively hold up my hands +To have his Kingly pitty & yours to lett me goe. + +_All_. [_Alq_.?] Let him ene goe. + +_Mac_. Well, since we cannot win you to our service, +We will not weane you from your Countryes love. +The king, our lord, commands us here to give you +A hundred pistoletts to beare you home. + +_Pike_. A royall bounty, which my memory +Shall never loose; no, nor these noble favours +Which from the _Lady Marquesse Alquevezze_ +Raynd plenteously on me. + +_Alq_. What did she to thee? + +_Gyr_. How did she entertaine thee? + +_Pike_. Rarely; it is a brave, bounteous, munificent, magnificent +Marquezza! the great Turke cannot tast better meat then I have eaten +at this ladies Table. + +_Alq_. So, so. + +_Pike_. And for a lodging, if the curtaines about my bed had bene cutt +of Sunbeames, I could not lye in a more glorious Chamber. + +_Mac_. You have something, then, to speake of our weomen when y'are in +_England_. + +_Pike_. This Box, with a gold chaine in't for my Wife & some pretty +things for my Children, given me by your honourd Lady would else cry +out on me. There's a _Spanish_ shirt, richly lacd & seemd, her guift +too; & whosoever layes a foul hand upon her linnen in scorne of her +bounty, were as good flea[54] the Divells skin over his eares. + +_Mac_. Well said: in _England_ thou wilt drinke her health? + +_Pike_. Were it a glasse as deepe to the bottome as a _Spanish_ pike is +long, an _Englishman_ shall doe't. Her health, & _Don Johns_ wives too. + + _Enter Jaylor_. + +_Jay_. The Prisoners are upon comming. + +_Mac_. Stand by, _Englishman_. + + _Enter Teniente, Henrico, Manuell, Pedro (as a fryer); + at another dore Eleonora_. + +_Mac_. Give the Lady roome there! + +_Clark_. Peace! + +_Mac_. Your facts are both so foule your hated lives +Cannot be too soone shortned; therefore these Lords +Hold it not fitt to lend you breath till morning, +But now to cutt you off. + +_Both_. The stroke is welcome. + +_Pedro_. Shall I prepare you? + +_Hen_. Save your paynes, good father. + +_Man_. We have allready cast up our accounts +And sent, we hope, our debts up into heaven. + +_Fer_. Our sorrowes & our sighes fly after them. + +_Ped_. Then your confession of the murther stands +As you your selfe did sett it downe? + +_Man_. It does; +But on my knees I beg this marginall note +May sticke upon the paper; that no guilt, +But feare of Tortures frighted me to take +That horrid sin upon me. I am as innocent +And free as are the starres from plotting treason +Gainst their first mover. + +_Pedro_. I was then in _France_ +When of your fathers murther the report +Did fill all _Paris_. + +_Man_. Such a reverend habit +Should not give harbour to so blacke a falshood. + +_Hen_. Tis blacke, & of my dying; for 'twas I +To cheate my brother of my fathers lands, +Layd this most hellish plott. + +_Fer_. 3[55] hellish sins, Robbery, Rape & Murther. + +_Hen_. I'me guilty of all Three; his soul's as white +And cleare from murther as this holy man +From killing mee. + +_Pedro_. No [know], there's a thing about me +Shall strike thee into dust & make thy tongue +With trembling to proclayme thyselfe a Villaine +More then thou yet hast done:--See, tis my Eye. + +_Hen_. Oh, I am confounded! [_Falls_. + +_Man_. But I comforted +With the most heavenly apparition +Of my deare honourd father. + +_Fer_. Take thou comfort +By two more apparitions, of a father +And a lost daughter, yet heere found for thee. + +_Man_. Oh, noble sir, I pray forgive my brother. + +_Ele_. See, sir, I doe; & with my hand reach to him +My heart to give him new life. + +_Fer_. Rise, my _Henrico_! + +_Mac_. Rise & receive a noble minded wife +Worth troupes of other weomen. + +_Hen_. Shame leaves me speechles. + +_Pedro_. Gett thee a tongue againe, & pray, & mend. + +_Mac_. Letters shall forthwith fly into _Madrid_ +To tell the King the storyes of Two Brothers, +Worthy the Courtiers reading. Lovers, take hands: +_Hymen_ & gentle faeryes strew your way: +Our Sessions turnes into a Bridall day. + +_All_. Fare thee well, _Englishman_. + +_Pike_. I will ring peales of prayers of you all, +My Lords & noble Dons. + +_Mac_. Doe soe, if thou hast iust cause: howsoever, +When thy swift ship cutts through the curled mayne, +Dance to see _England_, yet speake well of _Spayne_. + +_Pike_. I shall.--Where must I leave my pistoletts? + +_Gent_. Follow mee. + + [_Exeunt Omnes_. + + +FINIS. + + + + + + +INTRODUCTION TO _THE LADY MOTHER_. + + +The authorship of this anonymous play, now printed for the first time +(from Eg. MS. 1994), is not difficult to discover. Any one who has had +the patience to read the Plays of Henry Glapthorne cannot fail to be +amused by the bland persistence with which certain passages are +reproduced in one play after another. Glapthorne's stock of fancies was +not very extensive, but he puts himself to considerable pains to make +the most of them. In _The Lady Mother_ we find the same ornaments spread +out before us, many of them very tawdry at their best. Glapthorne's +editor has striven to show that the weak-kneed playwright was a +fellow-pupil of John Milton's at St. Paul's. One cannot think of the two +names together without calling to mind the "lean and flashy songs" and +"scrannel pipes of wretched straw" in _Lycidas_. + +Yet Glapthorne was a man of some parts. He had little enough dramatic +power, but he writes occasionally with tenderness and feeling. In his +poetical garden rank weeds choke up the flower-beds; but still, if we +have patience to pursue the quest, we may pick here and there a +musk-rose or a violet that retains its fragrance. He seems to have taken +Shirley as his master; but desire in the pupil's case outran +performance. It is, indeed, a pitiful fall from the _Grateful Servant_, +a honey-sweet old play, fresh as an idyl of Theocritus, to the paltry +faded graces of the _Lady's Privilege_. + +A note at the end of _The Lady Mother_ in the hand-writing of William +Blagrave, acting for the Master of the Revels, shows that the play was +licensed in October, 1635. From a passage in II., 1, it would seem to +have been produced at the Salisbury Court Theatre in Whitefriars. In the +same year Glapthorne's comedy of the _Hollander_, according to the +title-page, was being acted at the Cockpit, Drury Lane. His other pieces +were produced rather later. I am inclined to think that _The Lady +Mother_, in spite of the wild improbability of the plot and the poorness +of much of the comic parts, is our author's best work. In such lines as +the following (IV., 1) there is a little flickering of pathos:-- + + "Enough, good friend; no more. + Had a rude _Scythian_, ignorant of tears, + Unless the wind enforced them from his eyes, + Heard this relation, sure he would have wept; + And yet I cannot. I have lost all sense + Of pitty with my womanhood, and now + That once essentiall Mistress of my soule, + Warme charity, no more inflames my brest + Then does the glowewormes uneffectuall fire + The ha[n]d that touches it. Good sir, desist + The agravation of your sad report; [_Weepe_. + Ive to much griefe already." + +The "glowewormes uneffectuall fire" is of course pilfered from Hamlet, +but it is happily introduced. There is some humour in the scene (I., 2) +where the old buck, Sir Geoffrey, who is studying a compliment to his +mistress while his hair is being trimmed by his servant before the glass, +puts by the importunity of his scatter-brain'd nephew and the blustering +captain, who vainly endeavour to bring him to the point and make him +disburse. On the whole I am confident that _The Lady Mother_ will be +found less tedious than any other of Glapthorne's pieces. + + + + +THE LADY MOTHER: A COMEDY. + + +BY HENRY GLAPTHORNE. + +_Written in 1635, and now printed for the first time_. + + + + +The Play of The Lady Mother. + + + +_Actus Primus_. + +(SCENE 1.) + + + _Enter Thorowgood, Bonvill & Grimes_. + +_Bon_. What? will it be a match man? +Shall I kneele to thee and aske thee blessing, ha? + +_Tho_. Pish! I begin to feare her, she does +Dally with her affection: I admire itt. + +_Bon_. Shee and her daughters +Created were for admiration only, +And did my Mistress and her sister not +Obscure their mothers luster fancy could not +Admitt a fuller bewty. + +_Tho_. Tis easier to expresse +Where nimble winds lodge, ore investigate +An eagles passage through the agill ayre +Then to invent a paraphrase to expresse +How much true virtue is indebted to their +Unparaleld perfections. + +_Bon_. Nay[56], but shall I not be acquainted with your designe? when we +must marry, faith to save charges of two wedding dinners, lets cast so +that one day may yeild us bridegroome,--I to the daughter and thou to +the mother. + +_Tho_. She falls off +With such a soddaine ambiguitie, +From the strong heate of her profesd[57] love +That I conceive she intends a regular proofe +Of my untainted Faith. + +_Grimes_. Soe I thinke, too: when I was young the plaine downe-right way +serv'd to woe and win a wench; but now woing is gotten, as all things +else are, into the fashion; gallantts now court their Mistress with +mumps & mows as apes and monke[y]s doe. + +_Bon_. But cannot all your fluent witt interpret +Why she procastinatts your promisd match? +By this light, her daughter would be married tomorrow +If her mother and I had concluded on the Joynture. + +_Tho_. The most evident reason she will give me of this unwellcome +protraccon is she has some new employment to put on me, which performd +she has ingaged her selfe to certainty of her designing me an answerare +[_sic_]. + + _Enter Lovell_. + +_Grimes_. Here comes your Rivall, Mr. _Thorowgood_,--_Alexander_ the +_Great_, her Ladishipps loving Steward. + +_Bon_. But does he affect the lady; what's his character? + +_Grimes_. He was by trade a taylor, sir, and is the tenth part of the +bumbast that goes to the setting forth of a man: his dealing consists +not much in weight but in the weight of his pressing Iron, under whose +tyranny you shall perceave no small shrinking. + +_Tho_. Well said, _Grimes_. On! + +_Grimes_. He has alterd himselfe out of his owne cutt since he was +steward; yet, if you saw him in my ladyes Chamber you would take him +for some usher of a dancing schoole, as being aptest in sight for a +crosse cap. + +_Tho_. Excellent _Grimes_ still! + +_Grimes_. By his cloathes you might deeme him a knight; but yet if you +uncase him, you will find his sattin dublett naught but fore sleaves & +brest, the back part buckram; his cloake and cape of two sorts; his +roses and garters of my ladyes old Cypres: to conclude, sir, he is an +ambodexter or a Jack-of-all-sides & will needs mend that which Nature +made: he takes much upon him since the old Knight dyed, and does fully +intend to run to hell[58] for the lady: he hates all wines and strong +drinks--mary, tis but in publique, for in private he will be drunke, no +tinker like him. + +_Bon_. Peace, sirrah; observe. + +_Lov_. So, let me see the _summa totalis_ of my sweet ladies +perfections. + +_Grimes_. Good, he has her in whole already. + +_Tho_. Peace, _Grimes_. + +_Lov_. _Imprimis, her faire haire; no silken sleave +Can be so soft the gentle worm does weave. +It[em], noe Plush or satten sleeke, I vow, +May be compard unto her velvet brow. +It[em], her eyes--two buttons made of iett; +Her lipps gumd taffety that will not frett; +Her cheeks are changeable, as I suppose,-- +Carnation and white, lyllie and rose_. + +_Grimes_. I, there it goes. + +_Bon_. I protest I comend him; he goes through stitch with her like +the Master of his trade. + +_Lov_. _It[em] her brests two bottomes[59] be of thred, +By which love to his laborinth is led. +Her belly_-- + +_Grimes_. I, marry, sir, now he comes to the purpose. + +_Lov_. _Her Belly a soft Cushion where no sinner +But her true love must dare stick a pin in her_. + +_Grimes_. That line has got the prick and prayse from all the rest. + +_Lov_. _Butt to that stuff of stuffs, that without scoff +Is Camills haire or else stand further off_. + +_Grimes_. How many shreads has he stoale here to patch up this lady? + +_Lov_. _The totall some of my blest deity +Is the magazine of Natures treasury_.-- +Soe, this made up, will I take an occasion to dropp where she may find +it. But, stay; here's company. + +_Bon_. Mr. _Lovell_. + +_Lov_. And see, I shall divulge myselfe. + +_Grimes_. A foole, I doubt not. + +_Bon_. Is your lady stirring? + +_Lov_. She is risen, sir, and early occupied in her occasions spiritual, +and domesticke busines. + + _Enter Lady & Magdalen_. + +_Lady_. Sweet Mr. _Bonvil_. +The simple entertain[m]ent you receave here +I feare will scare you from us: you're so early +Up, you do not sleepe well. + +_Tho_. I cannot looke on her +But Ime as violent as a high-wrought sea +In my desires; a fury through my eyes +At every glance of hers invades my heart. + +_Lady_. What ayles you, servant? are you not well? + +_Bon_. 'Tis his humour, Madam; he is accustomed, though it be in +company, to hold a dialogue with his thoughts. Please you, lady, to +give his fever libertie; the fit will soon be overpasd. + +_Tho_. She bears her age well, or she is not sped +Far into th'vale of yeares: she has an eye +Piercing as is an Eglets when her damme, +Training[60] her out into the serene air, +Teaches her face the Sunbeames. + +_Bon_. Madam, I fear my friend +Hath falne againe in love; he practises +To himself new speeches; you and he are not +Broke off, I hope. + +_Lady_. O, sir, I value my servant at a higher rate: +We two must not easily disagree. +Sir _Alexander_, attend in Mr. _Bonvill_. +My daughter's up by this time, and I would have him give her the first +salute. You had best be wary, _Bonvill_; the young cittizen or the +souldier will rob you of her. + +_Bon_. O, we feare not them: shall we goe, sir? + +_Lady_. Nay, Ile detaine my servant. + +_Bon_. Harke you, sir, strike home; doe you heare? + + [_Exeunt Bonvill, Grimes, Lovell & Mag_. + +_Lady_. Servant, have you leasure +To hear what I inioyne you? + +_Tho_. Your good pleasure. + +_Lady_. What shall I doe? I can no longer beare +This flame so mortall; I have wearid heaven +With my entreaties and shed teares enough +To extinguish _Aetna_, but, like water cast +On coales, they ad unto my former heate +A more outragious fervor. I have tried +All modest meanes to give him notice of +My violent love, but he, more dull then earth, +Either conceives them not or else, possessd +With full affection of my daughter, scornes me. + +_Tho_. Madam, wilt please you to deliver your pleasure? + +_Lady_. _Thorowgood_, +Not clouds of lightning, or the raging bolt +Heavens anger darts at the offending world, +Can with such horrid rigor peirce the earth +As these sad words I must demonstrate to you +Doe my afflicted brest.--Ime lost; my tongue +When I would speake, like to an Isicle +Disturbd by motion of unruly winds +Shakes to pronounce't, yet freezes to my roofe +Faster by th'agitation. + +_Tho_. Your full Judgment +Could not have found an apter instrument +For the performance of what you designe, +Then I experience how much any man +May become passive in obedience +To the intent of woman, in my truth. +Set the abstrusest comment on my faith +Imagination can resolve, my study +Shall mak't as easie as the plainest lines +Which hearty lovers write. + + _Enter Timothy_. + +_Tim_. Madam, this letter and his humble vowes +From your deserving sonn. + +_Lady_. He writes me here he will be here tomorrow. +Where left you him? + +_Tim_. At your right worthy Cosens. + +_Lady_. What manner of man is this Mr. _Thurston_ +He brings with him? + +_Tim_. A most accomplishd gentleman. + +_Lady_. 'Tis well: Mr. _Thoroegood_, +Weele walke into the Gallery, and there +Discourse the rest. + +_Tho_. I long till I receive the audience of it. + +_Tim_. Your ladiship will vouchsafe to meete +The Gent[lemen] in your Coach some two miles hence? + +_Lady_. Ile thinke of it. + + [_Exeunt omnes_. + + + +(SCENE 2.) + + + _Enter Sucket and Crackby[61]. + +Suc_. Come, deport your selfe with a more elated countenance: a +personage of your rare endowments so dejected! 'tis fitt for groomes, +not men magnanimous, to be so bashfull: speake boldly to them, that like +cannon shott your breath may batter; you would hardly dare to take in +townes and expugne fortresses, that cannot demolish a paltry woman. + +_Crac_. Pox of this Country, it has metamorphisd me. Would I were in my +native Citty ayre agen, within the wholesome smell of seacole: the +vapor[s] rising from the lands new dunged are more infectious to me then +the common sewer ith sicknes time. Ime certaine of my selfe Ime impudent +enough and can dissemble as well as ere my Father did to gett his +wealth, but this country has tane my edge of quite; but I begin to sound +the reason of it. + +_Suc_. What may it be imagind. + +_Crac_. Why, here are no Taverns where for my crowne I can have food +provocative, besides the gaining of many precious phrase[s] for (from?) +divers gallants new frenchefied. Theirs nothing to excite desire but +creame and eggs, and they are so common every clowne devoures them. Were +each egge at twelve pence, or as deare as lobsters, I could afford to +eate them, but I hate all that is vulgar; 'tis most base. + +_Suc_. Pish, tis dificience in your resolution: +Suppose your mistress were an enemy +You were to encounter in sterne duell. + +_Crac_. 'Tis well my Enemie is a woman; I should feare else to suppose +the meeting. Resolution! how can a man have resolution that drinkes +nought but ale able to kill a Dutchman? Conduit water is nector to it, + +_Suc_. Nay, but I say, suppose-- + +_Crac_. Suppose! Why here are no wenches halfe so amorous as Citty +tripennies[62]: those that are bewtifull the dew is not so cold. I did +but begg a curtesie of a chambermaide, and she laughd at me! Ile to the +Citty againe, that's certaine; where for my angell I can imbrace +pl[enty]. If I stay here a little longer, for want of exercise I shall +forget whether a woman be fish or flesh: I have almost don't already. + +_Suc_. O, heeres your uncle, move him; you conceive me; +He must disburse. + +_Crac_. And 'tis as hard to wrest a penny from him as from a bawd. + + _Enter Sir Gefferie and Bunche_. + +_Sir Geff_. Erect that locke a little; theres a hayre +Which, like a foreman of a shop, does strive +To be above his fellowes. Pish! this glasse +Is falsly silverd, maks me look as gray +As if I were 4 score. + +_Bun_. What does he want of it? + +_Sir Geff_. Combe with more circumspection, knave; these perfumes +Have a dull odor; there is meale among them, +My Mrs. will not scent them. + +_Crac_. Uncle, my friend, +My martiall fellow is deficient +In this ubiquitarie mettall, silver: +You must impart. + +_Sir Geff_. This garter is not well tide, fellow: where +Wert thou brought up? thou knowest not to tie +A rose yet, knave: a little straiter: so, +Now, tis indifferent. Who can say that I +Am old now? + +_Bun_. Marry, that can I or any one which sees you. + +_Suc_. Death to my reputation! +Sir, we are gent[lemen] and deserve regard: +Will you not be responsible? + +_Sir Geff_. Alas, good Captaine, I was meditating how to salute my lady +this morning. You have bin a traviler: had I best do it in the _Italian_ +garbe or with a _Spanish_ gravity? your _French_ mode is grown so common +every vintners boy has it as perfect as his _anon, anon, sir_. Hum, I +must consider on it. + +_Crac_. Nay, but uncle, uncle, shall we have answeare concerning this +mony, uncle? You must disburse; that is the souldiers phrase. You see +this man; regard him. + +_Suc_. Death of vallor! I can hold no longer; I shall rise in wroth +against him. + +_Crac_. Dee heare, Uncle? you must furnish him; he wilbe irefull +presently, and then a whole bagg will not satisfie him; heele eate your +gold in anger and drinke silver in great sack glasses. + +_Sir Geff_. Pox o'this Congee; 't shalbe thus, no thus; +That writhing of my body does become me +Infinitly. Now to begett an active +Complement that, like a matins sung +By virgins, may enchant her amorous ear. +The _Spanish Basolas[63] manos_ sounds, methinks, +As harsh as a Morisco kettledrum; +The _French boniour_ is ordinary as their +Disease: hees not a gent that cannot parlee. +I must invent some new and polite phrases. + +_Crac_. Shall I have answeare yet, sir. + +_Sir Geff_. Pish, you disturbe me.--Gratulate her rest, +Force an encomium on her huswifry +For being up so early.--_Bunch_, where is my nephew? + +_Crac_. I have bin here this halfe hower and could not get answere. + +_Sir Geff_, To what, good nephew?--I was meditating a little seriously. + +_Crac_. Concerning this white earth. + +_Sir Geff_. Youde know the nature of it? If it be marle 'tis good to +manure land; if clay, to make tobacco pipes. + +_Crac_. I meane mony. + +_Sir Geff_. O mony, Nephew: Ide thought youde learnd ith Citty +How to use mony: here we do imploy it +To purchase land and other necessaries. + +_Suc_. Infamy to fame and noble reputation! +Old man, dost thou disdaine valour? I tell thee, Catterpillar, +I must have mony. + +_Sir Geff_. 'Tis reason good you should; it is fitting to cherish men +of armes. There is a treasurer in the county, Captaine, pays souldiers +pensions: if any be due to you Ile write my letter, you shall receive +it. + +_Bun_. Faith, there he mett with you. + +_Crac_. I see a storme a coming. Uncle, I wilbe answerable upon account: +my souldier must have mettall. + +_Sir Geff_. Iron and Steele is most convenient for Souldiers; but, since +you say it, Nephew, he shall have it: how much must it be? + +_Suc_. A score of Angells shall satisfie for the confrontment you have +offred me in being dilatory. + +_Sir Geff_. _Bunch_, deliver him ten pounds;--but, dee heare. + +_Bunch_, let be in light gold; 'twill serve his turn as well as heavier: +it may be he is one of those projectors transports it beyond sea. + + _Enter Magdalen_. + +_Mag_. Sir, I come to give you notice my ladyes walkd into the garden. + +_Sir Geff_. Life! is she upp so early? + +_Mag_. An hower since, beleeve it. + +_Crac_. Is my Mistress stirring? + +_Mag_. In truth, I know not. + +_Sir Geff_. Nephew, demeane your selfe with[64] all respect +Toward the gentlewoman you affect. +You must learne with here since the citty +Could spare you none.--Ile to the lady. + + [_Exeunt Bunch, Sir Geff. and Mag_. + +_Crac_. Captaine, shalls into th'Celler, Captaine? + +_Suc_. I like the Motion. + +_Crac_. Come away, then: there is indifferent liquor in this house, +but that ith towne is most abominable. Weele drinke our owne healths, +Captaine. + +_Suc_. Well considered; 'tis for our reputation. + + [_Exeunt omnes_. + + + +(SCENE 3.) + + + _Enter Bonvill, Clarinna, Belizea and Grimes_. + +_Bon_. Come, you are wantons both: If I were absent, +You would with as much willingness traduce +My manners to them. What Idiots are wee men +To tender our services to women +Who deride us for our paines! + +_Cla_. Why can you great wise men who esteeme us women +But equall with our parrets or at best +But a degree above them, prating creatures +Devoid of reason, thinke that when we see +A man whose teeth will scarce permitt his tongue +To say,--(he is soe like December come +A woing to the Spring, with all the ensignes +Of youth and bravery as if he meant +To dare his land-lord Death to single rapier)-- +We have not so much spleene as will engender +A modest laughter at him? + +_Bel_. Nay, theres his Nephew, _Crackby_, your sweet servant. + +_Clar_. My Servant! I do admire that man's impudence, +How he dare speake to any woman. + +_Bon_. Why, is he not flesh and blood? + +_Clar_. Yes, but I question whether it be mans or no. +They talk of changlings: if there be such things +I doubt not but hees one of them. + +_Bel_. Fie,[65] Sister; 'tis a prettye gent, I know you love him. + +_Clar_. You hitt it there, I faith,[66]--You know the man? + +_Bon_. Yes, very well. + +_Clar_. Have you then ever seene such another monster? +He was begott surely in the wane of the moone, +When Natures tooles were at laime Vulcans forge +A sharpning, that she was forced to shake this lumpe together. + +_Bon_. What man for heavens sake could your nicenes fancy? + +_Clar_. Not you of all that ever I beheld. + +_Bel_. And why, good wisdome? + +_Clar_. Nay, do not scratch me because he is your choyse, forsooth. + +_Bel_. Well, we shall see the goodly youth your curiositie has elected, +when my brother returnes, I hope. + +_Clar_. I hope soe, too; I marvill where this Cub is, +He is not roaring here yet. + + _Enter Thorogood_. + +_Bon_. Frend, thou hast lost +The absolu[t]st characters deliverd by this lady: +Would thou hadst come a little sooner. + +_Tho_. Ladies, +I must desire your pardon for my friend: +I have some busines will a while deprive him +Your sweet companies. + +_Clar_. Take him away; we are weary of him. + +_Bel_. Sister, lets leave the gentlemen alone, +And to our chambers. + [_Exeunt Bel. and Clar. + +_Bon_. _Grimes_, put to the doore and leave us.-- +Whats the matter? + [_Exit Grimes_. + +_Tho_. Freind, +Ere I begin my story I would wish you +Collect yourselfe, awake your sleeping Spiritts, +Invoake your patience, all thats man about you +To ayd your resolution; for I feare +The newes I bring will like a palsie shake +Your soules indifferenst temper. + +_Bon_. Prethee, what is't which on the soddaine can +Be thus disastrous? 'tis beyond my thoughts. + +_Tho_. Nay, slight it not: the dismall ravens noate +Or mandrakes screches, to a long-sick man +Is not so ominous as the heareing of it +Will be to you; 'twill like a frost congeale +Your lively heate,--yet it must out, our frendship +Forbids concealment. + +_Bon_. Do not torture me; +Ime resolute to heare it. + +_Tho_. Your soe admired Mistress +Who parted from you now, _Belisea_,-- + +_Bon_. You have don well before +Your sad relation to repeat that sound; +That holy name whose fervor does excite +A fire within mee sacred as the flame +The vestalls offer: see how it ascends +As if it meant to combat with the sunn +For heats priority! Ime arm'd gainst death, +Could thy words blow it on me. + +_Tho_. Here me, then: +Your Mistress-- + +_Bon_. The Epitome of virtues, +Who like the pretious reliques of a Saint +Ought only to be seene, not touchd. + +_Tho_. Yet heare me; +Cease your immoderate prayses: I must tell you +You doe adore an Idoll; her black Soule +Is tainted as an Apple which the Sunn +Has kist to putrifaction; she is +(Her proper appelation sounds so foule +I quake to speake it) a corrupted peice, +A most lascivious prostitute. + +_Bon_. Howes this? +Speake it agen, that if the sacrilege +Thou'st made gainst vertue be but yet sufficient +To yeild thee dead, the iteration of it +May damne thee past the reach of mearcye. Speake it, +While thou hast utterance left; but I conceit +A lie soe monstrous cannot chuse but choake +The vocall powers, or like a canker rott +Thy tung in the delivery. + +_Tho_. Sir, your rage +Cannot inforce a recantacion from me: +I doe pronounce her light as is a leafe +In withered Autumne shaken from the trees +By the rude winds: noe specld serpent weares +More spotts than her pide honor. + +_Bon_. So, no more: +Thy former words incenst me but to rage; +These to a fury which noe sea of teares, +Though shed by queenes or Orphants, shall extinguish; +Nay, should my mother rise from her cold urne +And weepe herself to death againe to save +Thee from perdition, 't should not; were there placd +Twixt thee and mee a host of blasing starrs, +Thus I would through them to thee! [_Draw. + +Tho_. Had I knowne +Your passion would have vanquishd reason thus, +You should have met your ruine unadvisd; +Hugd your destruction; taken what the lust +Of other men had left you. But the name +And soule of friendship twixt us I had thought +Would have retain'd this most unmanly rage +Gainst me, for declaration of a truth +By which you might be ransomed from the armes +Of her adulterate honor. + +_Bon_. Yes, kind foole; +Perswade an _Indian_ who has newly div'd +Into the ocean and obtaind a pearle, +To cast it back againe; labour t'induce +_Turkes_ to contemne their _Alcoron_ ere you strive +To make me creditt my _Belissia_ false. [_Kneele_. +Forgive me, holy love, that I delay +So long to scourge the more than heathnish wrongs +Of this iniurious villaine, whome me thinks-- +Blow him hence to hell +With his contagious slander! yet before +Thou doest fall by me as, if heaven have not +Lost all its care of Innocence, thou must doe, +Tell me what Divell urgd thee to detract +From virtue thus, for of thy selfe thou couldst not +(Unlesse with thee shee hath bin vicious) know it +Without some information: whoes the Author +Of this prodigious calumnie? + +_Tho_. Her mother. + +_Bon_. Ha! her mother? + +_Tho_. Yes, she; that certaine Oracle of truth, +That pretious mine of honor, which before +She would exhaust, or yeild your innocence +A spoyle to vice, chose rather to declare +Her daughter's folly; and with powerfull teares +Besought me, by the love I bore to goodnes, +Which in her estimation had a roome +Higher than Nature, to reveale it to you +And disingage you from her. + +Bon. Soe, rest there, [_Put up_. +Ere thou beest drawne were the whole sex reduced +To one, left only to preserve earths store, +In the defence of women; who,[67] but that +The mothers virtues stands betweene heavens Justice +Would for the daughters unexampled sinne +Be by some soddaine Judgment swept from earth +As creatures too infectious. Gentle freind, +An humor, heavy as my soule was steep'd +In _Lethe_, seases on me and I feare +My passion will inforce me to transgresse +Manhood; I would not have thee see me weepe; +I prethee leave mee, solitude will suite +Best with my anguish. [_Sitt downe. + +Tho_. Your good Genius keepe you. [_Exit_. + + [_Enter Belisea_.] + +_Bel_. Why have you staid thus long? +Young _Crackby_ and his friend are newly up +And have bin with us. My sister has had +The modest bout with them: 'tis such a wench. +Are you a sleepe? why doe you not looke up? +What muse you on? + +_Bon_. Faith, I was thinking where +In the whole world to find an honest woman. + +_Bel_. An excellent meditation! What doe you take me for, my Mother +and my Sister? + +_Bon_. You alway excepted; tis but melancholly; +Prethee bestow a kisse upon me, love; +Perchance that will expell it. + +_Bel_. If your cure be wrought soe easily, pittie you should perish +for want of physick. [_Kiss him_. + +_Bon_. She kisses as sheed wont; were she unchast, +Surely her breath would like a _Stigian_ mist +Or some contagious vapor blast me; but +'Tis sweet as _Indian_ balme, and from her lips +Distills[68] a moisture pretious as the Dew +The amorous bounty of the wholesome morne +Throwes on rose buds; her cheeks are fresh and pure +As the chast ayre that circumscribes them, yet +Theres that within her renders her as foule +As the deformed'st _Ethiope_. + +_Bel_. Whats the matter? +Why do you staire so on me? + +_Bon_. To admire +That such a goodly building as this same +Should have such vild stuff in itt. + +_Bel_. What meanes this language? + +_Bon_. Nothing, but only to informe you what +You know to well alreadie: _Belisia_, you are +--(I cannot call her whore)--a perjurd woman. + +_Bel_. Defend me innocence! I scarce remember +That ever I made oath and therefore wonder +How I should breake on. + +_Bon_. Have you not with imprecations beg'd +Heavens vengeance if you ere lovd man but me? + +_Bel_. And those same heavens are vouchers[69] +I've kept my vowes with that strict purity +That I have done my honor. + +_Bon_. I believe thee; +The divell sometimes speaks truth. Intemperate woman, +Thoust made that name a terme convertible +With fury, otherwise I should call thee soe, +How durst thou with this impudence abuse +My honest faith? did I appeare a guest +So infinitly worthles that you thought +The fragments of thy honour good enough +To sate my appetite, what other men +Had with unhallowd hands prophaind? O woman, +Once I had lockd in thy deceiving brest +A treasure wealthier then the _Indies_ both +Can in their glory boast, my faithfull heart, +Which I do justly ravish back from it +Since thou art turnd a strumpet. + +_Bel_. Doe you thinke +I am what you have term'd me? + +_Bon_. Doe I thinke +When I behold the wanton Sparrows change +Their chirps to billing, they are chast? or see +The Reeking Goate over the mountaine top +Pursue his Female, yet conceit him free +From wild concupiscence? I prithee tell me, +Does not the genius of thy honor dead +Haunt thee with apparitions like a goast +Of one thou'dst murdrd? dost not often come +To thy bed-side and like a fairy pinch +Thy prostituted limbs, then laughing tell thee +'Tis in revenge for myriads of black tortures +Thy lust inflicted on it? + +_Bel_. Have you don? +Give me a little leave then ere my greife +Surround my reason. Witnes, gratious heaven, +Who, were you not offended at some sinn +I have unwittingly comitted, would +Send sacred innocence it selfe to pleade +How much 'tis iniurd in me, that with zeale +Above the love of mothers I have tendred +This misinformd man. Ile not aske the authors +Of this report, I doe forgive them; may +A happier fate direct you to some other +May love you better; and my fate conferr +On me with speed some sudden sepulcher. [_Exit_. + +_Bon_. I shall grow childish, too; my passions strive +For my dead love to keepe my greife alive. + + [_Exit_. + + + + +_Actus Secundus_. + +(SCENE 1.)[70] + + + _Enter Sucket, Crackbie, Grimes_. + +_Gr_. Gentlemen, the rarest scene of mirth towards! + +_Suc_. Where? how, good _Grimes_? + +_Gr_. Oh, the steward, the steward, my fine Temperat steward, did soe +lecture us before my ladie for drinking ... at midnight, has gott the +key of the wine C[ellar from] _Timothie_ the Butler and is gon downe +to make [himself] drunke in pryvate. + + _Enter Timothie_. + +_Tim_. Gent[lemen], _Grimes_, away, away! I watcht him into t[he Cellar] +when I saw him chose forthe one of the b[ottles] of sacke, and hether is +retyringe with all exp[edition]. Close, close, and be not seene. + +_Crac_. Oh, my fine steward! + [_Exeunt_. + + _Enter Alexander Lovell with a Bottle of Sacke and a Cup_. + +_Lov_. Soe here I may be private, and privacie is best. I am the Steward +and to be druncke in publicke, I say and I sayt, were to give ill +examples. Goe to, I, and goe to; tis good to be merry and wise; an inch +in quietness is better than an ell of sorrow. Goe to and goe to agen, +for I say and I sayt, there is no reason but that the parson may forget +that ere he was clerke[71]. My lady has got a cast of her eye since she +tooke a survey of my good parts. Goe to and goe to, for I say and I +sayt, they are signes of a rising; flesh is frayle and women are but +women, more then men but men. I am puft up like a bladder, sweld with +the wind[72] of love; for go to and go to, I say and I sayt, this love +is a greife, and greife a sorrowe, and sorrows dry. Therefore come +forth, thou bottle of affection[73]; I create thee my companion, and +thou, cup, shalt be my freind. Why, so now,--goe to and goe to: lets +have a health to our Mrss, and first to myne; sweet companion, fill to +my kind freind; by thy leave, freind, Ile begin to my companion: health +to my Mrs! Soe, now my hands in: companion, fill, and heres a health to +my freinds Mrs. Very good, and now I will conclude with yours, my deare +companion: stay, you shall pledge me presently, tis yet in a good hand; +I will pledge both your Mrss first. Goe to and go to,[74] freind; thou +alwayes lookst on me like a dry rascall; give him his liquor; and soe +with my Mrs I conclude. What say you, Companion? ha, do you compare +your Mrs with myne? howes that? such another word and thou darst, +Sirrah! off with your Capp and doe her Reverence! wilt tell me soe? goe +to, I say and I sayt; Ile make better languadge come out of that mouth +of thine, thou wicked Carkasse. Freind, heres to thee:[75] Ile shake +thee, thou empty Rascall, to peeces, and as _Hector_ drew _Achilles_ +bout the walls of Troy at his horse tayle, so shalt thou at a doggs +tayle be dragd in vild disgrace throughout the towne. Goe to and goe to, +I say and I sayt; Ile have the dragd, sirr, ah I[le] have the dragd; +perswade me not, good friend; let him yeild me a reason[76] if he can. +I, I, he had need to be squeezd; why tis true, this is one, but not to +purpose. Oh, would you whisper with me? umh, umh, umh, away, Ile heare +no more: why, how now frend? ha, ha, ha, you have got a Cup to much; +umh, goe to and goe to, you can hold no more, I see that, at this time; +let me ene bring you to your chambers. + [_Flings away the bottle and sleeps_. + + _Enter Timothy, Grimes, Sucket, Crackby, with flaggons of wine. + +Suc_. 'Tis well don, cherish valour. + +_Crac_. Creditt me, my Captaine carries fortitude enough for a whole +legion; twas his advice tooke in[77] the _Busse_[?], and at _Mastricht_ +his courage did conclude _Papenhams_ overthrow.[78] + +_Suc_. Pish, you to farr exemply[fy]. I have bin at some few skermishes, +kild halfe a score or soe; but what of yt? men are but men. + +_Tim_. What wines that, fellow _Grimes_? + +_Grimes_. Sack by this light, the Emperor of liquors! Captaine, here tis +well keepe of push of pike yet peirce like shott of Cannon: a Cup of +this upon an onslaught, Captain? + +_Suc_. Is beveredge for a Generall: I doe use to drinke it when I am +engagd against a squadron or a whole company. + +_Grimes_. He meanes of drunkards. + + [_Lovell grunts_. + +_Suc_. Ha! Cinielaro[?] an ambuscado! see, whos that lyes there +pardue[79]? fort of Mars! my wroth shall eate him up. + +_Grimes_. Soe, soe, now softely letts to him: ha, alreadie[80] dead +drunke, as I am vertuous. Assist me gent[lemen]; _Timothy_, hast thou +thy Salvatorie about thee. + +_Tim_. Yes, heere, here.[81] + +_Grimes_. Quick, quick; make some plasters and clapp em on his face: +here, bind this napkin about his hand; who has a garter, lets see, to +bind it up? + +_Suc_. Some blood, my sonn of _Mercury_, were neceseary for consummation +of the jest. + +_Crac_. And here, _Grimes_, ty this cloath about his head: oh, for some +blood! + +_Grimes_. Here, I have prickt my finger. + +_Tim_. Let you and I, Mr. _Crackby_, goe to buffitts for a bloody nose. + +_Crac_. No, no, you shall pardon me for that, _Tim_[82]; no, no; no +boyes play. + +_Suc_. So, so; now set him in the chaires. Hart of valour! he looks like +a Mapp oth world. Death, what are these?[83] + + _Enter Musike_. + +_Grimes_. The Town Waites whome I appointed to come and visitt us. + +_Suc_. 'Twas well donn: have you ere a good song? + +_Tim_. Yes, they have many. + +_Suc_. But are they bawdy? come, sir, I see by your simpring it is you +that sings, but do not squeake like a _French_ Organ-pipe nor make faces +as if you were to sing a Dirge. Your fellowes may goe behind the arras: +I love to see Musitions in their postures imitate those ayrey soules +that grace our Cittie Theaters, though in their noats they come as short +of them as _Pan_ did of _Apollo_. + [_Musike_. + +_Grimes_. Well, sir, this is indifferent Musicke, trust my judgment. +Sing, boy. + [_A song_. + +_Crac_. Now on my life this boy does sing as like the boy[84] at the +_Whitefryers_ as ever I heard: how say you Captain? + +_Suc_. I, and the Musicks like theires: come, Sirra, whoes your Poett? + +_Crac_. Some mad wag, I warrant him: is this a new song? + +_Mus_. Tis the first edition, sir: none else but we had ever coppie +of it. + +_Suc_. But you wilbe intreated to let a gent have it? + +_Mus_. By no meanes; the author has sworne to the contrary, least it +should grow so wonderous old and turne a Ballad. + +_Crac_. Well said, Captain; the tother health, Captain: heres good wine, +good Tobackoe, good everything: had we but a good wench or two twere +excellent. + +_Suc_. Great _Alexander_, does not dreame of this, I warrant yee. + +_Grimes_. Oh, hees fast enough; heele be ready to cast up his accounts +the easier when my lady calls him. + +_Crac_. Come, come; who payes the Musicke? Captain, you have my purse. + +_Suc_. Truths a truth from Infidell or Pagan: I am in trust, and that's +beleife, and so it shalbe saved. Pay the Musick? umh, where are they? +let me see, how many's of you, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6: good, can any of you +daunce? + +_Mus_. Daunce? Yes, sir, we can shake our legs or soe. + +_Suc_. So said so don, brave ladd; come, letts have a daunce, some +daunce and some play. + +_Mus_. Anything to please you, noble Captaine. + +_Suc_. Lively then, my hearts; some country Jigg or soe. Oh those playes +that I have seene of youre, with their Jiggs[85] ith tayles of them[86] +like your French forces! Death, I am a rorging (roaring?) boy; but, +come, stir your shanks nimbly or Ile hough ye. Strike up there! + + [_Daunce_. + +_Grimes_. Well don, my hearts; drinke, drinke. + +_Suc_. Goe you in, Ile follow you. + +_Om[nes]_. Come, Captaine. + +_Suc_. Farewell, Steward. + +_Mus_. Dee heare, Captaine? + +_Suc_. With me, my fine treble knave? umh, thou dost tickle minikin +as nimbly-- + +_Mus_. We hope your worship will consider our paines? + +_Suc_. How, my fine knave? letts see, who were the dauncers? + +_Mus_. Come forward there! nay, I told you he was ever bountifull: oh, +good Captaine! + +_Suc_. Let me see: I, thou art hart of vallor: thou didst daunce well, +thou deservest--, I say no more: and who played? + +_Mus_. Wee. + +_Suc_. You? well sayd; you plaid and you daunc'd, you say good; let me +see, halfe a peece or-- + +_Mus_. Blesse your Captaineship. + +_Suc_. You plaid, you say, and you dauncd: umh, well, why then you that +dauncd must pay those that plaid. + +_Mus_. How, sir, how? + +_Suc_. Ever, ever, whilst you live, _Jarvice_;[87] the dauncers alwayes +payes the musike. Wilt breake custome? No, or there a pawne for you. +--Mr. Steward. Farewell. [_Exit_. + +_Mus_. This is your bountifull Captaine! a rope of his bounsing! But +stay, lets play to the steward; it may be when he wakes we may worke +him to't. + +_Omnes_. Content, content. [_Musike softe_. + +_Lov_. Umh[88], play a healthe: soe; say, it shall goe rounde: goe to, +I say and I sayt, it shall goe round. Umh, where is this fidle? in the +ayre? I can perceave nothing. Where is my kinde friend and my fine +companion? come, we will be friends again; goe to, we will. Umh, +plaistered and bound up? bloody? how comes this? goe too and goe to; if +I have done any mischiefe or bene over valiant in my drinke to kill a +man or soe, why 'twas in my drinke, not I, and let my drinke be hangd +for't; or, I say and I sayt, let um stay till I am drunke againe and +then hange me; I care not, I shall not be sensible of it. Oh this sack! +it makes a coward a _Hector_: the _Greekes_ and _Troians_ drinke no +other; and that and a wench (for theres the divell out) made um cuffe +ten yeares together, till at length when they had bled more than they +coulde drinke they grew sober, the contented Cuckold tooke his wife home +againe and all were good frends[89]. [_Sease Musicke_] But stay, the +musikes husht; I hope theyle appeare; I doe feale no such paine in my +wounds that I had need of musicke to bring me to sleepe. Blesse me whose +this? ha[90]! + + _Enter Grimes disguised_. + +_Grimes_. How does your worshipp? Mr. Steward, dee feele your selfe at +ease? I am hartely sorry for your misfortune? + +_Lov_. Misfortune? ha, what misfortune? now heaven and't be thy will-- + +_Grimes_. Pray heaven they be alive. + +_Lov_. Ha, alive? in the name of drinke what have I don? where did you +find me, ha? + +_Grimes_. Why, sir, comming out--umh, umh-- + +_Lov_. Out with't, man. + +_Grimes_. Out of a bad-house, sir. + +_Lov_. A Bawdie house, I warrant. + +_Grimes_. Yes sir. + +_Lov_. Why, now its out. + +_Grimes_. I, and tis well your worships out. + +_Lov_. Noe, noe, it had bin better had I never gon in; but on, on. + +_Grimes_. You were, sir,--as they say, sir--you had gotten a Cup to +much. + +_Lov_. Hang Cupps, my friend excepted; goe to; speake plaine; I was +drunke was I? + +_Grimes_. Yes, sir; you were not able to stand when you came out, sir? + +_Lov_. Out of the Bawdy-house? I beleave thee; nay, I am a right +_Lovell_ I, I look like a shotten herring now for't. _Jone's_ as good +as my lady in the darke wee me. I have no more Roe than a goose in me; +but on to the mischiefe, on. + +_Grimes_. You beate the Bawd downe with the Chamber dore and bade her +keepe that for the Reckoning. + +_Lov_. Umh, there was witt in my drinke, I perceive; on. + +_Grimes_. Then, sir, you tooke up a Spitt. + +_Lov_. A Spitt? + +_Grimes_. Yes, sir, and broacht one of the wenches out. + +_Lov_. How? + +_Grimes_. Oh, sir, you made such a hole in her bakside[91] you might +have turnd-- + [_Blows his nose_. + +_Lov_. What? thy nose int? + +_Grimes_. Had I been there it had been at your service. + +_Lov_. Thanke thee; thou shouldst have lost nothing by it. + +_Grimes_. Then went Tobackoe pipes to wrack, and oh the black potts +sufferd without measure; nay, you swore (and for it paid your twelve +pence) that if you were maior youd come disguisd on purpose to +confou[nd] 'um. + +_Lov_. Ist possible I could doe this? + +_Grimes_. This, sir? Why you kickd one flat-nosd wench that snuffled, +and swore she was a puritan. + +_Lov_. Did not I pay for that oath too? + +_Grimes_. No, sir; you bid the Constable keepe reckoning till it came to +a some and you would pay him in totall. So, sir, with the spit in your +hand away you runn, and we after yee, where you met with a roaring +Captain. + +_Lov_. Ha, now, now comes the misfortune. + +_Grimes_. Then you stopt and stood a while waving to and froe, as in +suspense; at length you fell, with a forward thrust, quite through his +heart. + +_Lov_. Ha, through his heart? the Captaines dead then? + +_Grimes_. No sir, twas through a silver heart he weares in memory of +his Mrs. + +_Lov_. Ime glad of that: thou strukst me through the heart with thy +newes. + +_Grimes_. You being downe, on fell the Captain like a tyrannicall +_Dutch_ man of war that shewes no mercy to the yeelding enemy, and ere +we could bring succor gave you these wounds, which being dark we brought +you home as privately as possible, sett you to sleepe and here stayd +till your waking. + +_Lov_. Yare honest fellowes; goe to and go to, I say and I sait agen, +yare honest fellowes and shall not be unrewarded: looke you, theres for +you--and be but sylent in't. + +_Grimes_. As is my instrument, Sir. Coods me! what, have they torne away +the back of your satteen Doublet? the Canvas is seene. + +_Lov_. Umh, no, but they have stolne my velvet Jerkin. + +_Grimes_. I, and dam'd your Dublet. + +_Lov_. Tis well; goe; thanks; goe, Ile see you shortly; you and your +Companie shall play at my ladyes wedding. I say no more, goe to; I love +you and I thanke you, + +_Grimes_. I thanke you, good Mr. Steward. [_Discovers_ + +_Lov_. Whoes this? _Grimes_? + +_Grimes_. Even he that has thus begrimd yee, my fine drunken Steward. I +can cure you, toe; come, let me be your Surgion. + +_Lov_. Thou shalt be my hangman first, Rascall. + +_Grimes_. You wonnot murder? helpe Captain, Mr. _Crackby, Tim_! + + _Enter Omnes_. + +_Omnes_. How now! how now! what's the matter? + +_Lov_. Whoop! hell broke loose! tis good to shun the Divell. + [_Exit_. + +_Grimes_. Not if you meet him in the likenes of a bottle of Sack, good +Steward.[92] + +_Tim_. Why this is excellent. + +_Suc_. Grimes, let me hugg thee, thou sonn of witt. + +_Grimes_. Nay, letts not leave him thus. + +_Crac_. Leade on, weele follow. + + [_Exeunt Omnes_. + +_Finis Actus Secundi_. + + + + +_Actus Tertius_. + +(SCENE 1.) + + + _Enter Sir Geffry and Lady_. + +_Sir Geff_. But I beseech you, Madam; what greater accession[93] can you +wish then me for husband? I have it here thats sattisfaction for the +lustiest widdow twixt this and London. Say, will you love me? Ime in +hast and hate demurrs; if you refuse I must seeke out: I have a little +moysture and would be loth to hav't dride for want of exercise.--What +say you, lady? + +_Lady_. Sir, for your love I thanke you; for your wealth +I want it not; but yet I doe not find +A disposicon in my selfe to marriage. + +_Sir Geff_. That will not serve my turne; I am no knight +Who weares the spurr of honour without Rowells +To prick a woman forwards: I ride post +To Marriage and resolve at the next stage +To take my Inn up. You have here +Two beautifull young gallants to your daughters: +Since youle not be my wife yet be my mother; +Ile marry any of them, which you please, +And hood her with the bagg [badge?] of honor. Lady, +What say you to this motion. + +_Lady_. My daughters wills are not in my command: +If you can purchase either of their hearts, +My free consent shall follow. + +_Sir Geff_. Nay, then, they will fall out for me, Madam, +I am most fortunate in atcheiving virgins. + + _Enter Bonville_. + +Save you, sweet youth, the bewties of your Mrs. +Crowne your desires. Are you a suiter? + +_Bon_. Madam, I have occasions of importance +Wishes a little privacy with you. + +_Lady_. With me, sweet Mr. _Bonvill? Sir Geffrey_, +Pray you vouchsafe your absence; at more leasure +We shall discourse. + +_Sir Geff_. With all my heart: Ile to the wenches. + [_Exit_. + +_Bon_. Madam we are alone? + +_Lady_. You did desire we should. + +_Bon_. But are you sure none can oreheare us. + +_Lady_. Unles we be to loud: +What mooves you to require this secresie? + +_Bon_. I come to aske a question, which the winds; +If I could deafe them, should not heare for feare +Their repercussive Eccho should declare it +To all our infamies. + +_Lady_. What ist, I pray you? + +_Bon_. Your daughter whom I was a servant to, +--I must deliver it in the homeliest phrase-- +Is she dishonest? + +_Lady_. You urge a repetition, gentle sir, +Of a sad truth: she is. + +_Bon_. It cannot be +In reason comprehensible a mother +Should for a stranger blurr her daughters fame, +Were it untruth. I am confirmd; this favor +Transcends requitall: if a man misled +By error gainst the diety, gross enough +For his damnation, owe a gratitude +To his converter, I am engag'd to you +For my delivery from her. + +_Lady_. 'Twas no more +Then what my honor obligd me +And my respect to vertue, which in you +I should have murdred by my silence; but +I have not greife enough left to lament +The memory of her folly: I am growne +Barren of teares by weeping; but the spring +Is not yet quite exhausted. [_Weeps_. + +_Bon_. Keepe your teares +Lest the full clouds, ambitious that their drops +Should mix with yours, unteeme their big wombd laps +And rayse a suddeine deluge. Gratious madam, +The oftner you reherse her losse the more +You intimate the gaine I have acquird +By your free bounty, which to me appeares +So farr transcending possibility +Of satisfaction that, unles you take +My selfe for payment, I can nere discharge +A debt so waytie. + +_Lady_. Ist come to this? +You speake misteriously; explaine your meaning. + +_Bon_. To consecrate, with that devotion +That holy Hermits immolate[94] theire prayers, +My selfe the adorer of your vertues. + +_Lady_. Are you serious? + +_Bon_. No scrupulous penitent, timerous that each thought +Should be a sinn, does to the priest lay ope +With halfe that verity his troubled soule +That I doe mine. I love you: in that word +Include all ceremony. No sooner had +Your information disingagd my heart +Of honoring your daughter, but amazd +At the immensnesse of the benefit +Your goodness had cast on me, I resolvd +This way to show my gratitude. + +_Lady_. But dare you, +Knowing the daughter vicious, entertaine +Affection to the mother? + +_Bon_. Dare I when +I have bin long opresd with a disease, +Wish pleasing health? theres vertue enough here +To excite beleife in _Moores_ that only women +Have heavenly soules. + +_Lady_. This is admirable: +Did my intention tend to love, as soone +I should embrace your motion in that kind +As any others, wert but to afford +Some small lustracon for the wrong my daughter +Intended you; nay, to confesse my thought, +I feele a strong propension in my selfe +To yeild to you; but I am loath,[95]--your youth +Will quickly loath me. + + _Enter Y[oung] Marlowe and Thurston_. + +_Mar_. Madam, this Gent[leman] +Desires to have you know him for your son: +Tis he my sister _Clariana_, with your licence, +Wishes for husband. + +_Lady_. A proper Gent[leman]; Ime happy she has made +So iuditious an election.[96] +You are very welcome, sir: conduct him in, Sonn. + + [_Exeunt Young Marlowe and Thurston_. + +_Bon_. Persuade me I can hate +Sleepe after tedious watching, or reiect +The wholesome ayre when I've bin long choakd up +With sicklie foggs: sooner shall-- + +_Lady_. Desist from protestations, or employ them +Mong those who have no more discretion +Then to beleive them. + +_Bon_. How, Lady? + +_Lady_. You can in Justice now no more appeach +Our mutabillities, since you have provd +So manifestly [in]constant. + +_Bon_. These are arts +Orewhelme my dull capacity with horror: +Inconstant! + +_Lady_. Are the light faines erected on the tops +Of lofty structures stedfast, which each wind +Rules with its motion? credulous man, I thought +My daughters reall vertues had inspired thee +With so much confidence as not to loose +The estimation of her honor for +My bare assertion, without questioning +The time or any the least circumstance +That might confirm't. I did but this to try +Your constancy: farewell. [_Exit_. + +_Bon_. What witch had duld my sense +That such a stuped Lethurgie should sease +My intellectuall faculties they could not +Perceive this drift! If she be virtuous, +As no man but an heretick to truth +Would have imagind, how shall I excuse +My slanderous malice? my old fire renewes +And in an instant with its scortching flames +Burnes all suspicon up. + + _Enter Belisea_. + +_Bel_. Peace attend you. + +_Bon_. What Cherubim has left the quire in heaven +And warbles peacefull Anthems to the earth? +It is her voyce, that to all eares speakes health, +Only to mine. Come charitable mist +Hide me, or freindly wherlewind rap me hence, +Or her next accent, like the thunderers, will +Strike me to dust. + +_Bel_. Sir, I come not +With resolution (though my innocence +May justly arme [me]) to declare my truth; +For I am going where your slander cannot +(Had it bin greater) blast me. I desire +This for my past love, that youle retaine +Your wrong opinion to yourselfe, not labour +To possesse others with it, to disgrace +Our yet unspotted family. + +_Bon_. If you want +A partner in your greife, take me along +That can teach you and all the world true Sorrow. + +_Bel_. Twas not don well to brand my spotles name +With Infamy; but to deride me is +Inhumaine, when I only come to tell you +Ile send my prayers on charities white wings +To heaven for your prosperity.--You greive +For what? for your deliverance from a strumpet? + +_Bon_. No, but that my raving fancy should direct +My trecherous tongue with that detested name +To afflict thy unblemishd purity, _Belisea_. +I do confes my error was an act +Soe grosse and heathnish that its very sight +Would have inforcd a Crocodile to weepe +Drops as sincere as does the timorous heart +When he ore heares the featherd arrow sing +His funerall Dirge. + +_Bel_. Can this be possible? + +_Bon_. No sismatick, reduc'd to the true faith, +Can more abhorre the Error he has left +Than I do mine. I do beleive thee chast +As the straight palme; as absolute from spots +As the immaculate Ermine, who does choose, +When he is hunted by the frozen _Russe_, +To meete the toyle ere he defile the white +Of his rich skin. What seas of teares will serve +To expiatt the scandall I have throwne +On holy Innocence? + +_Bel_. Well, I forgive you; +But ere I seale your pardon I in[j]oyne +This as a pennance: you shall now declare +The author of your wrong report. + +_Bon_. Your mother. + +_Bel_. How! my mother? + +_Bon_. No creature else +Could have inducd me to such a madnes. + +_Bel_. Defend me gracious virtue! is this man +Not desperate of remission, that without +Sense of compu[n]ction dares imagine lies +Soe horrible and godlesse? My disgrace +Was wrong sufficient to tempt mercie, yet +Cause twas my owne I pardond it; but this +Inferd toth piety of my guiltless mother +Stops all indulgence. + +_Bon_. Will you not heare me out? + +_Bel_. Your words will deafe me; +I doe renounce my affection to you; when +You can speake truth, protest you love agen. + [_Exit_. + +_Bon_. Contempt repaid with scorne; tis my desert; +Poyson soone murders a love wounded heart. + + [_Exit_. + + + +(SCENE 2.) + + + _Enter Belisea, Clariana and Thorowgood_. + +_Bel_. You may declare your will[97] here are no eares +But those I will not banish, were your busines +More secret. + +_Tho_. Lady, I come to free +My worthy freind and your owne servant, _Bonvill_, +From an uniust suspition your conceite +Retaines of him. Your mother did employ me +In the unlucky message that pronouncd you +Empty of honor. + +_Bel_. Has your worthles freind +Hird you to sweare this? + +_Tho_. I'me none that live +By selling oathes. + +_Bel_. Ile scarce believ't; he shall not +With all his cunning policie regaine +My good opinion of him. Sir, you cannot +Doe a more pleasing office then to leave me: +I do not love to heare of him. + +_Tho_. Your pleasure rules me. [_Exit_. + +_Cla_. _Belisea_, you did ill +Not to heare out the Gent[leman]. + +_Bel_. Prethe why? +His owne confession does appeach him one +In the conspiracy against my honor. +He sayes my mother was the originall +Of _Bonviles_ slaunder; and how impious +Twere for a child to thinke so, filiall duty +Instructs my knowlidge. + +_Cla_. Be not confident; +Your piety may misleade you. Though your mother, +Shees passion like to us; we had it from her. +Ile say no more; the event will testifie +Whoes in the fault.[98] + + _Enter Sucket and Crackby_. + +_Suc_. Be not abashd; a little impudence is requisite; +Observe me, with what a garbe and gesture martiall +I will beseige their fortresses. + +_Bel_. Who sent these fooles to trouble us?--Gent[lemen], +We have some conference will admit no audience +Besides ourselves. +We must desire you to withdraw, or give us +Leave to do soe. + +_Suc_. Men of warr are not soe easily put to a retreat; it suites not +with their repute. + +_Cla_. Heele fight with us, sister: weed best procure him bound toth +peace. + +_Crac_. Ladies, I must no more endure repulse; +I come to be a suiter. + +_Bel_. For what? + +_Crac_. Why, that you would with Judgment overlooke +This lovely countenance. + +_Cla_. The hangman shall doe't sooner. + +_Crac_. If you knew +How many bewtious gentlewomen have sued +To have my picture-- + +_Cla_. To hang at their beds head for a _memento mori_-- + +_Crac_. You would regard it with more curiosity. +There was a merchants daughter the other day +Runn mad at sight of itt. + +_Cla_. It scared her from her witts: she thought the +divell had haunted her. + +_Suc_. Valour deserves regard, myne shall propugne +Your bewty gainst all opposers. + +_Bel_. Alasse! mine is so meane, +None will contend with it, it needs no champions. + +_Crac_. Contemne me not, lady; I am-- + +_Cla_. A most egregious asse. + +_Crac_. Most nobly propagatted; my father was a man +Well fu[rnish'd] with white and yellow mettall. + +_Cla_. I lay my life a Tinker. + +_Crac_. And in his parish of account. + +_Cla_. A Scavenger. + +_Bel_. Is it a badge of your profession +To be uncivell? + +_Suc_. Uncivell! +Noe; what is in other men uncivill +In us is resolution; therefore yeild: +I am invincible, flesh cannot stand +Before me. + +_Bel_. It must be drunke then. + +_Cla_. I am not ith humour now +To laugh, or else Ide not dismisse him yet. +Good Mr. _Crackby_, does your wisdome thinke +That I can love you? + +_Crac_. My worth deserves it. + +_Cla_. Well said, impudence. +Goe, get you home toth Cittie; goe solicitt +Some neighbors daughter; match with _Nan_ your Schoolefellow +With whome you usd to walk to _Pimblicoe_[99] +To eate plumbe cakes and creame,--one of your parish, +Good what-doe-you-lack. + +_Crac_. This is offensive to +My reputation. + +_Cla_. You shall heare more on't: +When thou art married, if the kind charity +Of other men permitt thee to geet thee children +That call thy wife mother, bring them up +To people shopps and cheat for 18d, +The pretious youth that fathers them. +Walke, walke, you and your Captaine _Huff_ to _London_, +And tell thy mother how thou has't sped i'th country, +And let her moane thee. + +_Crac_. Captaine, we must give place; these girles are firebrands, +And we as straw before them. + +_Suc_. They may stand +In neede of valour. + [_Exeunt Suc. and Crac_. + + _Enter Thurston_. + +_Cla_. Have you oreheard us? these are the lads will do't, +When 20 such as you will be cast off. + +_Thu_. Like a bob'd[100] Hawke.--Mrs, if I mistake not, +Your mother does inquire for you. + +_Bel_. I will attend her pleasure. [_Exit_. + +_Cla_. Doe not goe, wench; we shall scarce be honest. + +_Thu_. Love, is it time, after the services +I have perform'd, to have some salary? +Noe labourer works without his hier; I would +Be satisfied when you determine we +Shall end our hopes in marriage. + +_Cla_. I have lookt for this month in my Calender +And find that marriage is prohibited. + +_Thu_. It is not Lent nor Advent;[101] if it were +The Court is not so strickt but 'twill dispense +With freinds, and graunt a licence. + +_Cla_. Whole be bound +With you that theres no hindrance but we may +Be lawfully espoused? + +_Thu_. Ime not so barren +Of freinds but I shall find security +For what will nere be question'd. + +_Cla_. It may be soe; but one who calculated +My birth did warne me to abstaine from marriage +Til I was twenty. + +_Thu_. You're no _Atlanta_; if you be, Ile play +_Hippomanes_ and over runn you. + +_Cla_. You'd scarce catch me, +Though you had _Venus_ apples to seduce +My covetous eyes. Henceforth Ide have you leave +Your love to me. + +_Thu_. I must leave to live then. +Why doe you say soe? + +_Cla_. Cause it is [un]iust +You should mispend affection on her +Who is incapeable of it. + +_Thu_. You'd faine wrest +A new expence of complement from me: +If you delight to heare your praise, Ile hire +Some mercenary [poet][102] to comend +In lofty verse your bewty. + +_Cla_. You are merry: +My humor is not specious; we must know +A further distance. + +_Thu_. Wherefore, pray? +Our eyes are no more poysonous then they were. + +_Cla_. Yes, they infect reciprocall. + +_Thu_. This language +Is not accustomd; pray, tell me how +My presence is offensive, and Ile shun you[103] +As I would doe my fate. You are not serious: +My innocence assures me my deserts +Can chalenge no such usage. + +_Cla_. Tis confest; but we +Are like thinne christall glasses that will crack +By touching one another: I coniure thee +By all our past love, from this parting minute +Nere to behold me more. I dare not venter +My frailty with thee. + +_Thu_. What immodesty +Has my demeaner uttred you should doubt +Ravishing from me? + +_Cla_. Thats not it, but cause +I would not tempt my destinie: thy sight +Would inflame marble, much more me whose heart +Is prompt enough to fly into thy breast +And leave mine empty. But 'tmust not remaine +In that lone habitation, least a curse, +A fearefull one, sease on mee. + +_Thu_. Can there be +Curses more horrid, incident to earth +For its past Sinns, then would depend on you +For such a bold presumption as your breatch +Of faith would be. + +_Cla_. Our tyrant fate has found +Yet uninvented torments to expresse +Our loyall soules. O, _Thurston_, thou wert never +--Not when our mutuall freindships might have taught +The constant turtles amity--more deare +To me then now. I could, as well as then, +Peruse love's dictats in thy amorous cheeks, +Enioy the pressure of thy modest lipp; +But Ime enioynd by powerfull menaces +T'infring my wonted use and to disclaime +My vowes to thee. + +_Thu_. If this be possible, +What will become of earth? men will no more +Respect Society or strive to save +Humanity alive: henceforth theyle seeke +For lost fidelity on Caves or topps +Of untrodd Rocks, and plight their trothes to beasts; +Commix with them and generate a race +Of creatures, though less rationall, yet more +Indude with truth. O _Clariana_, can +There be a motive able to convert +This pretious Christall temple, built for purity +And goodnes adoration, to a faine +For Idoll falshoods worship? But I cannot +Labour my wandring Judgment to beleife +Thou speakst thy meaning. If I have not lovd +With that essential perfectnes thy worth +That man could doe, in charity declare +My Ignorant defect, and Ile amend it +With more then zealous industry. + +_Cla_. Tis vaine: +You may as easily penetrate the cloudes +With a soft whisper, as my eares, then which +Noe thunders deafer. _Thurston_, tis not cause +I have in the intemperate heate of blood +Given up my soule to a new choyce, that breeds +This soddaine mutability: I will +Preserve my affection as inviolate to you +As Anchorites their vowes, and in my grave +Interr my virgin glory. Teares will not +Permitt more conference: fare you well; Ile keepe +My passion up till I have none to weepe. [_Exit_. + +_Thu_. Shees gon! What vapor which the flattring sunn +Exhales to heaven as to create a starr, +Yet throwst, a fading meteor, to the earth, +Has falne like me? Divinity, that tells +Us there are soules in women, Ile no more +Credit thy dubious _Theorems_ nor thinke +Thy lawes astring us to preserve our faith. +Let the nice Casuists, that dispute each clause +Belongs to conscience with a[l]ternate sense, +Dispense with breach of promise and prescribe +Equivocacons to evade all oathes +Without offending, or shees damnd. + + _Enter Lovell_. + +_Lov_. Well, Companion, at my friends Intreatie I am content to be +reconsyld; but have a care, goe to, ha, oh ho, youle[104] ... more; why, +goe to then ... pledge the companion ... heeres to thee: what, what! + +_Thu_. Heres one perchance will satisfie me. +Sir, your habit speaks yer understanding: +Please you resolve me one thing which disturbes +The quiet of my conscience. + +_Lov_. Revenge may slumber but can never sleep: +He that lets slip an Injury thats done +Takes the next course to draw a greater on. + +_Thu_. You counsell well. I pray, in all the volumes +Your learning has perusd, did you ere find +Any conclusion that allowd it lawfull +To breake an oath? + +_Lov_. If she neglect and throw[105] disgrace on thee, +Fly't thou as much and be thy scorne as free. + +_Thu_. An Oracle speakes in him; but, pray, tell me +Ist lawfull then to breake an oath? + +_Lov_. Though time prolongs, we cannot style it sloath: +My vowes are firme; hees damd that breaks an oath. + +_Thu_. Good, good, agen: but the oath I treat on, +Is of another kind: tis to a woman. + +_Lov_. It could not be her fault; there's a mistake in't. + +_Thu_. None o'my life, theres none. + +_Lov_. Let me see, let me see: +No, twas not hers, twas _Grimeses_ knavery. + +_Thu_. Ha, whether did wild fancy lead my apprehension. +He minds me not but is in disputation +With his owne thoughts. + +_Lov_. Wilt thou pledge me ii cuppes? Why, goe to and goe to, then. +Ha to thee, ha, sirra _Grimes_! +--When man gainst man conspire to doe evill, +For what Society is a fitt! + +_Thu_. The Devill. [_Claps him on the shoulder_. + +_Lov_. Oh helpe, helpe![106] [_Exit_. + + _Enter Lady_. + +_Lady_. I hope, sir, +Noe occasion offerd in my house +Breedes your distast; I should be sorry if +It be soe, and conceald from me. + +_Thu_. Your goodnes +Is to nice ore me; Ime exceeding well; +Only some erring cogitations +Trouble my braine a little. + +_Lady_. Tis much pitty +Distraction should have roome in you; I would +Not for the love you beare my daughter, have you +Be discont[ent]ed here. + +_Thu_. And your daughter +Repayes me kindly fort. + +_Lady_. Surely her breeding +Affords her better manners then to iniure +A gent[leman] of your deservings? + +_Thu_. Alas, she has not: +Twas but an unkindness triviall +Mong freinds not worth the nameing. + +_Lady_. It was to much +Wert but an ill looke. If I may so far, +Without immodesty, entreat the knowledge +Of what it was Ile chide her for't. Pray, sir,-- +We women are bold suitors; by your looke +It is no meane perplexity her folly +Has cast upon your temper,--pray, disclose it; +And ift be anything the obedience +She owes to me may countermand, she shall +Repent her error. + +_Thu_. Your humanity +Would wrest a secret from me, though my life +Consisted ith concealment: she has abolishd +Her protestations to me, murdred vowes +Which like the blood of Innocents will pull +Cloudes of black vengeance on her, for no cause +I can imagine but her humor; banishd +Me her society and sight for ever.[107] + +_Lady_. Tis above wonder: could I as well rule +Her will as her exterior actions, +She should not thus reject you; but I cannot +Limitt her mind, compell her to affect +Against her liking. If perswations may +Reduse her, Ile endevour it. + +_Thu_. Twilbe needles; +I am resolvd to meet her in revolt, +Hug infidelity with as strong a faith +As she can possible; and if mans mallice +Can passe a womans, my dispight shall winne +Preheminence. I will inquire out one +By nature framd in scorne of bewty, and +In your perfidious daughters presence give her +That heart which she reiected. + +_Lady_. Twere pitty +Your passion should undoe you; you may find +Matches of noble quality: my daughter +In worth's inferior to you, yet I doubt not +But my perswasive oratorie may gaine you +Her forfeited affection. + +_Thu_. Let her reserve it +For them who sue to inioy it; Ile conferr +My fancy on a Negro new reclaim'd +From prostitution; sacrifice my youth +To bedridd age, ere reinthrall my heart +To her insulting bewty. + +_Lady_. Twould be a maime to your discretion +To abjure a certaine and a pleasing good +For an uncertaine harme you would impose +In malice on another. Yo'are a man +In whome the glorious soule of goodnes moves +With such a spacious posture that no woman, +But such a squemish baby as my daughter, +Would be most fortunate to enrich their choyse +With one so much deserving. + +_Thu_. He experience +Your affirmation: could you love me? + +_Lady_. What +I spoake was a contingent supposition +What others might doe, but not argument +I meant to love you. + +_Thu_. But I know you will; +I see a pleasing augury in your looks +Presages mercy; and those eyes, whose lustre +The light (that scornes privation) cannot equall, +Darts beames of comfort on me. + +_Lady_. Twould be rare +Could you perswade me to't, I can find +No such propension in my selfe; beware +Least in this wildnes you ingage your heart +To one cannot accept it. + +_Thun_. Pish! +Ime sure you will: humanity forbids +Refusall of my affection, which shall be +As constant as insep[a]rable heate +To elementall fire.--I'me soddaine, lady, +In my resolve, but firme as fate. + +_Lady_. Surely, +You are not well. + +_Thu_. You are deceivd; I am +Exceeding well yett; all my faculties +Retaine their wonted motion; but Ime like +A new recoverd patient, whose relapse +Admitts no helpe of phisick: in your love +Consists my hope, futurity of health; +And you have too much charity to suffer +Perdition overwhelme me. + +_Lady_. Your confidence +Workes much uppon my lenity; but twould +Occasion scandall; every one would judge +I did supplant my daughter, should I yeild +To your desines. + +_Thu_. Let the censorious world +Fright those with harelipd Calumnie whose guilt +Merritts detraction; your pure innocence +No feind dares vitiatt. + +_Lady_. You have prevaild. + +_Thu_. Ile take you at your word, a holy kisse +Shall seale the contract. [_kisse_. +Avaunt! stand of! she has poysond me, her lips +Are sault as sulpher, and her breath infects, +Noe scorpions like it. + +_Lady_. What ayles you, Sir? + +_Thu_. Ha, ha, ha! +Those who imagine such prodigious mischiefes +Should be more cunning then to be ore reacht +By puisne[108] cosnage; Have you no more judgement +Then to beleive I lov'd you. + +_Lady_. Doe you not love me then? + +_Thu_. Can a man +Robd of a Jewell deare to him as breath +Affect the theife, O murdresse?--for that title +Best suites thy impious quality, since thy curse, +Thy cruell curse, imposd uppon my love, +Has massacred two of the faithfulst hearts +Affection ere united. Though your lust +Desir'd smooth youth to sate it, piety +Might have reclamd you for attempting me, +Your daughter's interest.--Ile not rayle +Cause tis unman[ner]ly,[109] untill you find +What 'tis to cause true lovers prove unkind. + [_Exit_. + + _Enter Alexan_. + +_Lady_. Was I a sleepe? What transitory dreame +Deceivd my sense? did I not here my love +Protest affection? no, it was some feind +Vested in his mortallity, whome hell +Sent to abuse my weaknes. + +_Lov_. She has bin sure tormented with that furie which cla[pt] me on my +shoulder. She talkes of Hell, love and affection. Ha, goe to and goe to! +the old Knight my Mrs. Goast, I hope does not haunt the house. + +_Lady_. Twas he, Ime certaine on't; I felt his lips, +And they were flesh; they breath'd on mine a warmth +Temperate as westerne kisses which the morne +Weaps liquid drops to purchase. This confirmes +It was no apparition that contemnd +My willingnes, but he, his reall selfe, +Mockt my integrity: he must not passe soe, +To blase abroad my infamy. + +_Lov_. Madam, feare nothing, be not troubled; the Goast meant no harme +to you, uppon my life he did not; Goe to and goe to, I say and I sayt, +he did not. He did appeare to me--your love, your husband, my old +Mr.--here, clapt me on the shoulder, as his old custome was still when +he usd to talke with me familiarly. + +_Lady_. But, Sirrah, what familiarity +Have you with any of my privasies? +Sausie groome, practise your ancient duty. + + _Enter Young Mar_. + +_Y. M_. What meanes this fury, Madam? + +_Lady_. O, deare boy, +What haplesse fate exposd thee to the veiw +Of this [sic] sad mothers sorrowes? but I charge thee, +As thou respects thy duty, not to question +The cause of my distemper; my iust feares +Prohibits thee the knowledge of it. + +_Lov_. Why, Sir, she has seene the Divell. + +_Lady_. Ha! + +_Lov_. Nay, Madam, I have don; they say the Divell has no power ore a +Drunkard; once more Ile run the hazard. + +_Y. M_. Whoe, what is he? speake, +For heavens sake, speake: were he defensd with clouds +Or circled with unsteadfast boggs, my rage +Should cut a passage to him. + +_Lady_. Thou strait will grow +More passionate then I: goe to your chamber, +Ile but dispatch these gentlemen. + [_Exit Mar_. + + _Enter Sir Geffery, Crackby, [Suc]ett [and Bun]ch. + +_Sir Gef_. O here she is.--Lady, I and my Nephew, being your good +neighbors and of the worshipfull, I of the Country, he of the Cittie, +have long desird a match with your daughters, but they are coy, so +childish, so unmannerly; I know not how to terme them: they dispise who +worship offers them, they may[110] hereafter doe worse and have worse, +madam. + +_Crac_. My uncle tells your ladiship the truth: +We are noe peasants[111] or unhonorable +To be affronted with indignities. + +_Suc_. Here are men that has seene service. + +_Bunch_. At a mustring or ith Artillery[112] garden. + +_Lady_. 'Twas past my pleasure, good Sir _Geffery_, you have had such +harch entertainement from them: henceforth Ile lay my charge upon them +to be more tractable.--Mr. _Alexander_, goe call my daughters hither. + +_Lov_. She turnes againe.--I shall with all celerity wish them to +approach. [_Exit_. + +_Sir Gef_. Certainly, Madam, I can see no cause +Wherefore at first you might not, without putting +My Knighthood to this trouble, have matched with me +Your selfe; it had been somewhat fitter. + + _Enter Belisea and Clariana_. + +_Bel_. Are these fooles here? + +_Lady_. Minions you might have expresd more kindnes +In your behaviour to these Gent[lemen] +Whom my strict caire provided for your husbands. + +_Bel_. I hope they cannot blame us, we have usd them +With that respect our modesties allowd. + +_Lady_. Your peevish nicenes settle your affections +To a more fayre demeaner towards their worth, +Or you shall seeke a Mother and a portion. + +_Crac_. Nay, if you take away their portions, Ile +Meddle no further with them. + +_Lady_. You both heare +My not to be revoaked intention +Respect this knight and his nephew in the way +Of marriage, or I shall take another order with you. + [_Exit_. + +_Cla_. Was it you, good knight of the ill favord Countenance, +Who procurd us these loving admonitions? + +_Sir Gef_. Nay, and you begin agen, Ile call your Ladie Mother. + +_Suc_. I do protest unto you, beauteous Lady, +You do not cast a favorable aspect. + +_Bel_. I am no Plannet. + +_Crac_. Captaine, you doe me palpable affront: +She is the election of my understanding. + +_Sir Geff_. Retort not so abstrusly.--Will you disdain +The good of honour, condiscend to me +And youthfull write me, lady, in your stile, +And to each thread of thy sun-daseling h[air] +Ile hang a pearle as orient as the gemmes +The eastern Queenes doe boast of. When thou walk[st], +The country lasses, crownd with gorgeous flo[w]res, +Shall fill each path and dance their rural jigs +In honour of this bewty. + +_Cla_. Hey day, where did you borrow this? Sir, youle beg[one]: I feele +the fitt a coming; I shall rayle instantly. + +_Crac_. Baffeld before my Mrs? Death to fame! Captaine, good Captaine. + +_Suc_. Pish, I doe but drill her +For you, friend; you shall have her, say your Captaine +Sayes it, whose words doe ventilate destruction +To all who do oppugn what they designe. + +_Sir Gef_. Come, you shall love me. + +_Cla_. I cannot choose: goe, get you home, antiquity; thinke [of] +heaven, say thy prayers often for thy old sinns and let [thy] maid diett +thee with warme broathes least some cold appoplexis sease thee before +thou art prepard. + +_Sir Gef_. Madam! madam! shees in her old fitt! + +_Cla_. Call her, I care not if she heare me, I councell better than your +physician: every night drinke a good cup of muscadine,[113]--you will +not have moysture left to ingender spitle to cleanse thy mouth ith +morning. Goe, set thy feath[er] right, good mooncalfe[114]: you have +your answeare. + +_Sir Gef_, Contemne an old man and his feather, _Bunch_, +Ile begon, _B[unch]_. + + [_Exeunt Sir Gef. and Bunch_. + +_Cla_. Will you goe?--Sister, I have shakd mine off. +What stayes this nifle[115] for? + +_Crac_. Nay, call me what you will, she is my prise, +And I will keepe her.--Captaine, to her Captaine. + +_Suc_. You must not part thus, Mrs; here are men +Has scapd-- + +_Cla_. The Gallowes. + +_Suc_. Ile rigg you up; although you were a Carack +I shall find tackling for you. + +_Bel_. You are uncivill; pray, desist. + +_Crac_. Not kisse a gentleman? a pretty ring this same: +I have a mind to it and I must have it. + +_Bel_. You will not robb me of it? + +_Suc_. I will intreate this glove which shall adorne +In fight my burgonett. + +_Cla_. Some honest hostesse +Ere this has made a chamber pot of it. + +_Crac_. It is some rivalls ring and I will have it +To weare in spight of him. + +_Bel_. Helpe, Sister, helpe. + + _Enter Bonvill and Grimes_. + +_Bon_. She shall not neede. It is my ring the villaine desires soe +importunatly: what untuterd slave art thou that darst inforce aught +from this gentlewoman. + +_Crac_. Whats that to you? you might have come before me. + +_Bel_. What would you have don? + +_Crac_. Entreated you againe to have come behind me. + +_Bel_. O, my _Bonvill_, so happy a benefit no hand but thine could have +administred. Thou save[d]st the Jewell I esteeme next to my honour,--the +Ring thou gavest me. + +_Crac_. Nay, if you have more right to her than I, takt I pray you:-- +would I were off with a faire broken pate. + +_Suc_. Is your life hatefull to you? + +_Bon_. Why doe you inquire, good puff past? + +_Suc_. My blade +Is of the _Bilbo_[116] mettle; at its splendor +My foes does vanish. + +_Bon_. Ile try that presently;--feare nothing, ladyes. + +_Suc_. Death! now I thinke out, I did breake my blade this morning on +foure that did waylay me: Ile goe fetch another, and then I am for you. + +_Crac_. Take myne, Captaine. + +_Suc_. Hold your peace, be wise: that fellow +In the blew garment has a countenance +Presages losse of limme if we encounter.-- +Ile meet you presently. + +_Bon_. It shall not serve your turne yet: Ile not blunt +My sword upon such stock fish. _Grimes_, bestow +Thy timber on them. + +_Grimes_. Come, sir. [_beats them_. + +_Suc_. Take me without a weapon? this cudgell sure +Is Crabb tree, it tasts so sourely. + [_Exeunt_. + +_Bel_. Oh, my Deare _Bonvill_. + +_Bon_. Mistrisse, I sent an advocate to plead +My guiltless cause: you, too[117] severe a Judge +Forbad him audience; I am therefore come +Once more to prove my innocence. + +_Cla_. Come, without Ceremony +Forgive you her and she shall pardon you +Most willingly. + +_Bon_. Can you have soe much mercy, +You soe much goodnes? + +_Bel_. Noe soule long tir'd with famine, whom kind death +Has new enfranchisd from the loathed flesh, +With happier expedition enters heaven +Then mine thy bosome, _Bonvill_. Let our loves, +Like plants that by their cutting downe shoot up, +Straiter and taller flourish: we are now +Inseperable. + +_Cla_. Your good fates, though I +Repine not at them, makes my unhappy fortunes +Appeare farr more disastrous. + +_Bon_. Whats thy misfortune? + +_Bel_. Alas, my mother has crost her in her affection as she did us. + +_Bon_. She shall +Crosse ours no more. _Belisia_, if youle +Be ruld by me you shall away with me; +None but you sister shall be privy to it, +And sheele keepe Councell. + +_Bel_. Ile goe any whither +To enjoy thy presence; theres no heaven without it. + +_Bon_. You shalbe advertisd where she remaines, +And certifie us how your mother takes it: +When we are married we shall live to thanke you. + +_Cla_. Will you leave me, then? + +_Bel_. Prethee, poore heart, lament not; we shall meet, +And all these stormes blowe over. + +_Cla_. Your tempests past; mine now begins to rise +But Ile allay its violence with my eyes. + + _Exeunt omnes_. + + + + +_Actus Quartus_. + +SCENE 1. + + + _Enter Magdalen, Timothy and Alexander_. + +_Ma_. Run, good sweet _Timothy_; search the barnes, the stab[les], while +I looke in the Chambers. Should she be lost or come to any harme my lady +will hang us all. Why dost not fly? + +_Tim_. Hey day, if her feet walke as fast as thy tongue, sh[e's] far +enough ere this time. What a stir you make! Were you, as shee is, with +your sweet heart, you would [be] pursud, would you? You would be hangd +as soone. Al[as], good gentlewoman, heaven speed her! + +_Ma_. You will not goe then? + +_Tim_. No, indeed, will I not. +Her mother may be angry if she please. +The time has bin she would as willingly +Bin at the sport her selfe as now her daughter. +The ge[ntleman] shees gon with is a man, +And see theres no harme d[one], I warrant you. + +_Lov_. Ha, ha, gramercy, _Timothy_, thou hittst it right. _Maudlin_, goe +to; should _Tim_ here offer as much to you, ha, I beleave you would not +lock your selfe up in my ladyes closett; goe to, and goe to. + + [_Exeunt_. + +_Ma_. Udsme, my lady! + + _Enter Lady_. + +_Lady_. Lost, past redemption! I pursue a fier +Which like the giddy Meteors that seduce +With their false light benighted travellers +Allures me to distruction. To curse fate +Were to allow I feard it, and admit +Participation in me of that spiritt +I most detest, a womans. + +_Lov_. Please your good Ladyship. + +_Lady_. Yes, that you depart.-- [_Exit Alexander_. +What can he see in her more worthy love +Then is in me? shees but a picture drawne +By my dimensions, and men sooner fancy +The Substance then the Shaddow. Oh, but shee +Is the true image not of what I am +But what I was, when like the spring I wore +My virgin roses on my cheeks. + +_Lov_. Madam, you seeme-- + +_Lady_. Angry at your impertinency; learne manners, leave me. + +_Lov_. She has coniurd downe my spirit: these are immodest devills that +make modest ladyes become strickers[118]. Ile out oth storme, take +shelter in the cellar. Goe to and goe to; tis better venter quarriling +mongst those hogesheads. + [_Exit Alexander_. + + _Enter Maudlin [and Timothy.]_ + +_Ma_. Madam, your daughter-- + +_Lady_. Where is she? Who? _Clariana_? + +_Ma_. The faire _Belisea_. + + _Enter Clariana_. + +_Cla_. Did you call me, madam. + +_Lady_. Noe: were you soe neere? begon againe,-- +Yet stay.--_Maudlin_, avoid the Roome, and if you see +Mr. _Thurston_, entreat him hither. _Timothy_, +Find out my son and charge him to delay +The execution of my late comaund +Till I next speake with him. [_Exeunt Mag. and Tim_. +_Clariana_, you did what I comanded? + +_Cla_. Yes, on my Soule. + +_Lady_. But thou art ignorant +Why with such violence I inioyn[e]d thee +To leave thy _Thurstons_ love? + +_Cla_. Were I not sure +Theres nought in him that can be titled ill, +I should have thought your circumspective Judgment +Had spide some error in him, and in care +Of me your child forbidden me his love. +But whatsoer's the cause, though your comaund +Was like perdition welcome, my obedience +Fullfild it truly, without questioning +The reason why or the unlimited power +Of you my mother. + +_Lady_. You did very well. +Now thou shalt know the reason, which before +I doe relate, afford me leave to weepe, +To save thy teares, which at the hearing of it +Will, like the dew on lillies, pearle thy cheekes. +I have beheld thee with a Rivalls eye +In _Thurstons_ love; my penetrable heart, +Like a moist cloud, has opened and receivd +Loves fine bolt into it. Now thou knowst it, +Methinks I see confusion in thy lookes +Prepard to blast me. + +_Cla_. Heaven forbid it I +Should ere conceive the meanest thought of ill +Of you, my parent. Since you love him, here +To heaven and you I give my interest up +And would I could as well commaund his heart +As he might mine, beleive me you should then +Affect you with as true and deare a zeale +As ever I did him: I should be happie +In making you soe. + +_Lady_. Charitable girle, +Forgive thy cruell mother, who must yet +Impose a stronger penance on thy duty: +Thou must go to thy _Thurston_, and obtaine +His love. + +_Cla_. A little labour will serve for that. + +_Lady_. Not for thy selfe but for thy haplesse mother, +Who am, without it, nothing. Woe him for me, +Use the inchanting musicke of thy voice +On my behalfe, who, though thy Rivall, yet +Remember I'm thy mother; nor canst thou +Consigne thy breath to a more holy use +(Though thou shouldst spend it in religious prayers) +Then to redeeme thy parent. Weepe for me, +And in requitall for each drop thou shedst +I'll pay to heaven a Hecatombe of teares +For thy successe. But take good heede, deare child, +While thou art weeping, thou dost not disclose +That face of thine; for, were he mine by vow, +Loves powerfull Retorick uttered [in?] thyne eyes +Would winn from me. + + _Enter Thurston and Thorowgood_. + +_Cla_. Here comes the Gentleman. + +_Lady_. Be earnest, _Clariana_, I shall heare you. + [_Exit_. + +_Tho_. Sir, you must iuistifie this. + +_Thu_. Feare it not; yonder she goes; I'll tell her of it, sheele not +denie it. + +_Cla_. Mr. _Thurston_, whether do you walke soe fast? + +_Thu_. O, _Clarianna_, are you there? + +_Cla_. Nay, stay, I have a suite to you. + +_Thu_. I would +Be loth to offend your eyes; when we last met +You chargd me never to behold you more. + +_Cla_. I did indeed, but on mature advice +I have reclaimd that imposition. +You shall behold me dayly, talke with me, +Doe all the acts that love with Innocence +Can suffer, if youle but overrule your will +To graunt me one request. + +_Thu_. You wrong my faith +In questioning my graunt of any thing +You can desire wer't to undoe my selfe +Or combate miseries as yet unheard of, +You[r] least breath may expose me to them. + +_Cla_. Nay, in this theres no danger; if there be +A real happines on earth, this way +You shall arrive to it. + +_Tho_. He were unwise +Would he not graunt it then. + +_Thu_. Please you declare it. + +_Cla_. There is a lady, +Of such a perfect virtue, grace and sweetnes, +That Nature was to all our sex beside +A niggard, only bountiful to her; +One whose harmonious bewtie may intitule +All hearts its captive: yet she doats on you +With such a masculine fancy that to love her +Is duty in you. + +_Thu_. It is herselfe, Ime sure. + +_Tho_. It surely is no other. + +_Cla_. No, tis one +So farr transcending me, that twere a sinne +Should I deprive you, the most perfect man, +Of her, the perfectest woman. She will weepe +Even at your name; breath miriads of sighes; +Wring her hands thus; demonstrate all the signes +Of a destracted lover; that in pitty, +Though I did love you well, I have transferd +My right to her, and charge you by all ties +That you affect her with the same true zeale +Which you did me, and ift be possible, +Purer and better. + +_Tho_. This is the strangest madnes I ere heard of. + +_Thu_. Is it you, _Clariana_, that speake all this? + +_Cla_. You know and heare it is. + +_Thu_. But I doe scarce +Credit my hearing, or conceive I am +Mortall, for surely, had I bin, your words +Like the decree of heaven had struck me dead. +What strong temptation lay you on my faith! +O, _Clariana_, let me but decline +Passion, and tell you seriously that this +Is cruel in you, first to scorne my love, +Next to admitt a scruple of beleife, +Though you can be perfidious to your selfe, +That I can be soe. Noe; since you are lost, +Ile like the solitary turtle mourne +Cause I must live without you. But, pray, tell me +What is she you would have me love? + +_Cla_. My Mother. + +_Thu_. Ha, your Mother! + +_Tho_. Ist possible, lady? you much doe wrong +Your innocence in laboring to enforce +That upon him which is my interest. Heaven +Smild at the contract twixt us; quiers of Saints +Receivd our mutuall vowes, and though your Mother +May in her passion seeme to have forgott +Her pretious faith, yet when I shall awake +Her sleeping reason with the memory +Of that has past betwixt us, my strong hope +Tells me I shall induce her to the spheare +Which she has movd from. + +_Cla_. Would heaven you could! How coldly in this cause +Doe I perswade! when I would speake, my heart +Checks its bold orator, my tongue, and tells it +Tis traitorous to its Mr.--Noble Sir, [_kneele_ +I doe conceit you infinitly good, +So pittiful that mercy is in you +Even naturally superlative, (forgive me, +If I offend) you doe in this transgresse +Humanity, to let a lady love you +Without requitall. But I must professe +To heaven and you, that here Ile fix to earth, +Weepe till I am a statue, but Ile gaine +Your pitie for her: pray consider ont. + +_Thu_. Consider ont? wonder has soe engrossd +To its wild use all corners of my heart +That there remaines scarce one poore concave left +To hold consideration. I must either +Love her I hate or see her whome I love +Wilfully perish. See, shee kneeles and weeps, +Prays as she meant to expiate all the sinns +Earth ere committed. One of those pure drops +Does (as my lives blood in a soddaine trance) +Surround my heart. You have prevaild, arise: +At your request I will performe an act, +Which may no story hold least all who love +Hereafter curse the president,--Ile love her. +That deathfull word comes from my torturd soule +As a consent doth from a timorous maid +For an enforcing ravisher. + +_Tho_. You are not mad, sir? what doe you meane? + +_Cla_. I thanke you. +But love her dearely, _Thurston_, sheele deserv't: +I doe remember, when my Father livd, +How he would praise her goodnes. Think on me +As one that lovd you well, but neer like her; +And, if you please, bestow each day a kisse +Uppon her in my memory. Soe, farewell.-- +Sorrows flow high: one griefe succeed another; +I die in piety to redeeme my Mother. [_Exit_. + +_Tho_. But, harke you, sir, do you intend to love her. + +_Thu_. Good sir, torment me not. + + _Enter Grimes_. + +_Grimes_. By your leave, gentlemen: good Mr. +_Thorowgood_, a word or two in private. + +_Thu_. Compeld to love my enemy! what man, +That had but so much spiritt as a mule, +Could suffer this! Lay nice prescriptions, +Ambiguous bookmen, on submissive slaves; +Affright with terror of a wilfull death +Those whom black murders of inhumane sin +Has living damnd; Ime yet in my owne heart +White as a babe, as Innocent as light +From any mortall guilt; and were my soule +Drawn fro this mew[119] of flesh twould quickly streatch +Like a swift Falkon her aspiring wings +And soare at heaven. Nature instructs us Death +Is due to all: how can't be then a Sinn +To die, or he more guilty of offense +That kills himselfe or [than?] he who in his bed +Some shivoring ague murders? Ime resol[v']d; +Ile rather chuse to immolate my life +In Martirdome to virtue then reserve't +Till it be staind with mischiefes. + + _Enter Lady_. + +_Lady_. How doe you, sir? + +_Thu_. Oh, oh, my head, my head! +Stand further of, good nightcrow: if thou comst +As a presaging harbinger of death, +Howlt in thy direfulst and most horrid notes, +And ['t] will be wellcome as choyse musick to me +And Ile adore thee fort, with teares of ioy +Make thy black feathers white. + +_Lady_. Good sir, mistake me not, I am your friend. + +_Thu_. I cry you mercy, lady; you are shee +Whom I had vowd to love;--a wild conceite +Had seasd my fancy. Pardon me, I must +Proclaim to heaven and to the world a truth +Which I should study to forget: you are +A Creature so suparlatively bad +That, were the earth as absolute from sinn +As in its first creation, youre sole crimes +Would pull a curse upon it. I should tell you +The specialties wherein you're foule, but dare not +Breath in the same ayre with you; I begin +To feel infection:--fare you well. [_Exit_. + +_Lady_. Contemnd againe! deprive me of the name +And soule of woman! render me a scorne +To the most base of our revengefull sex! +If I beare this while there be knives or swords, +Poyson or ought left to extinguish life +That womans spleene can compasse-- +_Alexander_! within there! + + _Enter Alexander_. + +Goe to my sonn; inioyne him by all rights +Of naturall duty to accomplish that +Which in youre hearing I comanded him. +Beare him this Jewell and this gold, that when +Tis don he may escape; be carefull, +As you expect my favour. + +_Alex_. I shall inculcate your desires unto him. +--Her favour! goe to, theres comfort. + [_Exit_. + + _Enter Thorowgood_. + +_Tho_. Madam, theres one brings a sad message to you. + +_Lady_. From whome, I pray you. + +_Tho_. From two friends of yours +Your cruelty has murdred, + +_Lady_. My cruelty +Never extended to that horrid height, +Not to my foes. Who are they? + +_Tho_. Your daughter, +The innocent _Belisia_, and my friend, +Her worthy suiter, _Bonvill_. + +_Lady_. Your freind and my daughter dead and by my meanes! +This cannot be; my daughters sure in the house. +Good sir, unfould this ridle, it begetts +Wonder and terror in me. + +_Tho_. Madam, you know with what a cruel messuage +You sent me to my friend, which provd as false +As your faire daughter virtuous. Why you did it +I will not question, nor upbraid you with +This violation of your faith. + +_Lady_. This story +Conduces nothing to the deathes you talkd of. + +_Tho_. Yes, since then +A iust mistrust that you would crosse their match +Causd them last night privatly to steale hence +With an intention to have reacht the house +Where _Bonvills_ mother lives; but see the fates +How they dispose of men! crossing the River +That runns beneath your orchard, and ith darke, +Their headstrong horses missing the ford overthrew them +And, which I cannot without true griefe utter, +There drownd them both. +Was it not soe, _Grimes_? + +_Grimes_. Tis too sad a truth; and I, +After all meanes to save their life was past, +Lookd to my owne and got the shore: their bodies +I feare the violence of the tide has carried +Into the Sea by this time. + +_Lady_. Enough, good friend; no more. +Had a rude _Scythian_, ignorant of teares, +Unlesse the wind enforcd them from his eyes, +Heard this relation, sure he would have wept; +And yet I cannot. I have lost all sense +Of pitty with my womanhood, and now +That once essentiall Mistress of my soule, +Warme charity, no more inflames my brest +Than does the glowewormes ineffectual fire +The ha[n]d that touches it. Good sir, desist +The agravation of your sad report; [_Weepe_ +Ive to much greife already. + +_Tho_. It becomes you: +You do appeare more glorious in these t[ears] +Then the red morne when she adornes her cheeks +With _Nabathean_ pearls: in such a posture +Stand _Phaetons_ sisters when they doe distill +Their much prisd amber. Madam, but resume +Your banishd reason to you, and consider +How many Iliads of preposterous mischeife +From your intemperate breach of faith to me +Fetch their loathed essence; thinke but on the love, +The holy love I bore you, that we two +--Had you bin constant--might have taught the wor[ld] +Affections primitive purenes; when, from +Your abrogation of it, Bonvills death, +Your daughter['s] losse have luc[k]lessly insu'd. +The streame that, like a Crocodile, did weepe +Ore them whom with an over ravenous kisse +Its moyst lips stifled, will record your fault +In watery characters as lastingly +As iff twere cut in marble. Heaven, forgive you; +Ile pray for you; repent. + + [_Exeunt Thorowgood and Grimes_. + +_Grimes_. O, my deare Master! + +_Lady_. Repent! should I but spend +The weakest accent of my breath in sighes +Or vaine compunction, I should feare I sinnd +Against my will, then which I doe confes +Noe other diety. Passions[120] doe surround +My intellectual powers; only my heart, +Like to a Rocky Island, does advance +Above the foming violence of the waves +Its unmovd head, bids me my fate outdare. +Ills sure prevention is a swift despaire. + + [_Exit_. + + + +([SCENE] 2.) + + + _Enter Alexander and Young Marlowe_. + +_Alex_. Thinke, sir, to whome the Iniury was don,--go to--your Lady +Mother, a vertuous lady, I say and I sayt agen, a very vertuous lady. +Had I but youth and strength as you have, in what cause should I sooner +hazard both then in this? + +_Y. M_. Murder, my friend! + +_Alex_. Noe, tis doing sacrifice to slaunderd goodnes. + +_Y. M_. Rob my beloved Sister of a husband! + +_Alex_. Yes, to redeeme to your mother her lost honour. + +_Y. M_. Art not a Divell? + +_Alex_. Ha! + +_Y. M_. Thy breath has blasted me. + +_Alex_. I must confes indeed I have eaten garlicke. + +_Y. M_. All pious thoughts that lately fild this spheare +Are scatterd with the winds that issu'd from thee, +Which, like the infectious yawning of a hill, +Belching forth death inevitable, +Has distroyd freindship and nature in me. +Thou canst not poyson worse: I can feed now, +Feed and nere burst with mallice. Sing, Syren, sing +And swell me with revenge sweet as the straines +Falls from the _Thrasian_ lyre; charme each sence +With musick of Revenge, let Innocence +In softest tunes like the expiring Swann +Dy singing her owne Epitaph. + +_Alex_. What meane you, sir? are you mad? goe to and goe to; you doe not +use me well; I say and I say, you do not. Have I this for my love to you +and your good Mother? Why, I might be your Father by my age, which is +falne on me in my old Mrs service; he would have used me better. + +_Y. M_. Dost weepe, old Crocodile? looke dost see this sword. + +_Alex_. Oh, I beseech you, sir; goe to; what meane you? + +_Y. M_. No harme to thee; this was my Fathers once, +My honord Father; this did never view +The glaring Sunn but in a noble cause, +And then returnd home blushing with red spoyles, +Which sung his fame and conquest. Goe, intreat +My Mother be as pleasant as she was +That night my Father got me. I am going, say, +Most cheerfully to finish her comaund. + +_Alex_. Heaven prosper you. Ha! + + _Enter Thurston_. + +_Thu_. Freind, I was looking for you. + +_Y. M_. And you have found me, Villaine. + +_Thu_. What meane you? + +_Y. M_. If thou darst follow me I will conduct thee +Unto the seate of death. + +_Thu_. Dare! Ile goe with thee, hand in hand; goe on. + + [_Exeunt ambo_. + +_Alex_. Goe, goe to and goe to, I say and I sait; here wilbe some +revenge. If the Gent[leman] fall my lady has promist me a farme of +100 pounds a yeare; goe to, then. Now, if her sonn be slayne, heres +then this purse of gold and this rich Jewell which she sent to him. +By this wee see, whoever has the worst, +The fox fares well, but better when hees curst.[121] +Goe to and goe to then. + + [_Exit_. + + + + +_Actus Quintus_. + +(SCENE 1.) + + + _Enter Lady Marlowe sola_. + +_Lady_. Twas[122] here about; these are the poplars, this +The yewe he named. How prettily thees trees +Bow, as each meant to Consecrate a branch +To the drownd lovers! and, methinks, the streame +Pitt[y]ing their herse should want all funerall rights, +Snatches the virgin lillies from his bankes +To strow their watry sepulcher. Who would +Desire an easier wafting to their death +Then through this River? what a pleasing sound +Its liquid fingers, harping on the stones, +Yeilds to th'admiring eare! + + _Enter Thorowgood, Clariana, and Magdalen_. + +_Mag_. This way she went, Ime sure. She has deliv[er']d +So many strang distractions that I feare +Sheele act some wilfull violence on her selfe +If we prevent it not. + +_Cla_. Yonder is somebody among the Trees +Hard by the River: alasse, tis shee! + +_Tho_. Come softly; if she heare our footing, her disp[aire +May] anticipate our diligence. + +_Lady_. Tempt me not, frailty: I disdaine revolt +From ought the awfull violence of my will +Has once[123] determind. Dost thou tremble, flesh? +Ile cure thy ague instantly: I shall, +Like some insatiate drunkard of the age, +But take a cup to much and next day sleepe +An hower more then ordinary. + +_Tho_. Heaven and good Angells guard you! + +_Cla_. My deare Mother! + +_Mag_. My gratious Lady! + +_Lady_. What inhumaine creatures +Are you that rob me of the priviledge +Of wellcome death, which I will run to meet +Spight of your malice! + +_Tho_. Oh decline those thoughts; +Let not the lucid tapers of your soule, +Bright grace and reason, fondly be extinct. +Essentiall virtue, whether art thou fled, +To what unknowne place? wert thou hid mongst ro[cks] +Or horid grots where comfortable light +Hates to dispence its luster, yet my search +Should find thee out, reduce thee to this brest +Once[124] thy lovd Paradice. Pray, madam, pray: +From those faire eyes one penetentiall teare +Would force whole legions of heavens brightest Sa[ints] +If they have power to intercede for earth +To beg for mercy for you. + +_Lady_. These are toyes +Forgd to delude mortality: let me die +And afterwards my uncontroled Ghost +Shall visitt you. I only goe and aske +How my _Belisia_ does enioy her health +Since she exchangd her native ayre of earth +For those dull regions. If I find the clime +Does to our constitutions promise life, +Ile come to you and in those happy shades +Will live in peace eternally. + +[[125]_Cla_. Alas, +I feare shees Irrecoverable. Twas +Ill don to affright her thus. + +_Mag_. Expect the best: +The Gentleman will perswade her. + +_Tho_. O, dispaire, +Grimme homicide of soules, how thou involvst +More haplesse creatures in distracted Ills +Ore [w]home thou triumpst; but Ile fright thee hence: +No feind shall add a trophy to thy acts +For victory over her.] Deare madam, heare me: +You had a noble husband, while he livd; +And I beleive +That no perswasion cold have forcd you yeild +To vitiation of his honord bed, +Not with a prince. And will you give your soule, +Which heaven in its creation had designd +A bride to faire eternity of blisse, +By vild procurement of hells bawd, despaire, +To prostitution of unnaturall death +And then of woes erelasting which admit +Noe diminution? Can you heare this, Madam, +And does the flintie substance of your heart +Not thaw, like to a hill of _Russian_ Ice +When fires applid to't? Yes, your eyes demonstrate +It[126] melts already. + +_Cla_. Deare Mother, please you walke +Into your Chamber: here the wind is cold +And may disease your weaknes. + +_Mag_. Here is your vayle, and't please your ladiship. + +_Lady_. Let me alone, you trouble me; I feele +A soddaine change; each organ of my soule +Suffers a strong vicissitude; and, though +I do detest a voluntary death, +My Conscience tells me that it is most iust +That the cursd author of such impious ills +Ought not to live. + +_Tho_. O thinke not soe: those words +Retaine affinity with that passion +I hop'd youd left. The greatest of your Sinns +Mercy will smile at, when you doe implore +Its unconsuming grace: the dullest cloud +Will, when you pray, be active as the ayre +In opening to receive that breath to heaven +Thats spent to purge your ills. Why, you may live +To make a faire lustration for your faults +And die a happie Convert. + +_[Ho]llow within_: Follow, follow, follow! that way he went. + + _Enter Young Marlowe, Alexander, [Consta]ble and [office]rs_. + +_Y. M_. Hell, I will flie no farther; since my hand +Is guilt in murder it shall sacrifice +Some of my apprehenders. + +_Tho_. Whats the matter? +Deare Sir, what ayles you? + +_Lady_. O my Sonne! I feare. + +_Alex_. Stand back, goe to; what meanes this rudenes. +I say goe to, keepe back. + +_Con_. Sir, we must enter: here he is. I charge you +Asist us to lay hold on him. + +_Lady_. Why, how now, +Fellowes? what makes you presse in here thus rudely? +Whom do you follow? + +_Con_. Madam, Ime sorry my authority +Enforces me to doe it: your sonn iust now +Has slaine one Mr. _Thurstone_, and the law +Commaunds us apprehend him. + +_Y. M_. Here take my sword: +When I but doe waigh the iustnes of the cause +For which I suffer, though I could escape, +My Conscience would forbid me. Come, Ile goe +Whither you please. + +_Lady_. Stay, officers; all accessaries are +As liable to punishment for murder +As those who act it. I confesse twas I +Enforcd my son to slay that gentleman. +Your warrant extends to take me with him. + +_Tho_. Alas, beleive her not; greife for her sonne +Has made her franticke. + +_Lady_. By heaven tis truth! +If you refuse to execute your office +I shall confesse my act unto the Judg +And soe condemne you of partiality. +My Sonn knowes this is truth. + +_Y. M_. I must acknowledge +Mr. _Alexander_ oft did instigate me +To kill him. + +_Con_. Sir, you must clere your selfe of this. + +_Alex_. Who? I? Goe, take the babe from its Mothers teat and taxe him +with this crime. I accessary to a murder! goe to. + +_Con_. Why, and goe to, sir, and avoid resistance; +You must goe. Will your ladiship walke with us? + +_Lady_. Yes, most willingly. +I doe this most abhorrid life despise +Since tis to iustice a iust sacrifice. + + [_Exeunt omnes_. + + + +(SCENE 2.) + + + _A Table: Enter Judge,[127] Sir Geffery, Crackbie, + Suckett, and Bunch_. + + +_Sir Hu_. I doe admire this accident: since I have sat Judge I have not +knowne any such tryall. + +_Sir Gef_. Tis certaine, sir; but looke you, sir, Ile tell you. You do +perceive me sir: as Ime a gentleman I lov'd the lady; but she, out of +her pride, I thinke, or else I were to b[lame] to say soe, scornd me. +Marke you that, sir? understand you that? + +_Sir Hu_. You question my understanding very much, good Sir +_Geffe[rey]_. But pray you, sir, being here more conversant then I, +c[ould] you informe me how this quarrell grew twixt her [and Mr.] +_Thurston_? + +_Sir Gef_. Yes, yes, I can;--but let me see, I have almost forgott; +to say truth, I never heard the reason, but as the wisest guess--hum, +hum--he should have had her daughter. + +_Crac_. I might have had her my self, you know, uncle. + +_Sir Gef_. Peace, Nephew, peace, give Justice leave to speake.--As I +related, the reason I related, Sir, was as I told you. + +_Sir Hu_. You told me nothing yet, Sir _Geffery_. + +_Sir Gef_. Noe? did I not say he should have had her daughter? + +_Sir Hu_. You did; but what does that conduce to their dissention? + +_Sir Gef_. Oh sir, the originall efficient cause,--you understand me? +for suspition whispers he had given her a foule blow and would have left +her. + +_Crac_. Nay, by my birthright, uncle, the child was not his alone, for I +dare sweare I had a hand at least in it. I did endevor fort, did I not, +Captaine? + +_Suc_. Yes, there are others to as well as you; yes, she has struck her +top sayle to a man of warr; she has bin boarded, sir, I can assure you. + +_Sir Hu_. What impudent slaves are these!--But are you sure the +gentlewoman is with child? + +_Sir Gef_. Sure? doe you question it, Sir? _Bunch_, be ready, _Bunch_, +to write their confessions quickly. + +_Bunch_. They are not come yet to confession, sir. + +_Sir Gef_. Noe matter for that, _Bunch_; with the Judges leave weele +here their confession before they come, that we may know the better to +state the cause when they doe come. Ist not best, thinke you? + +_Sir Hu_. Who shall speake for them, thinke you? + +_Sir Gef_. No matter whether any man speake nor noe: we know he killed +the man, and she comanded him, ergo they are guilty; ergoe that must be +their confession, scilicet that they are guilty. Write this, _Bunch_, +and then we will perpend, as law and Judgment guides us, whether we will +save or condemne. How say you, sir? + +_Crac_. Oh well don, uncle! I knew[128] he would prove what he said, +otherwise I would have venturd a sillogisme in Baraly[p]ton to have made +it evident. + +[_Suc_.[129] But with your favour, gentlemen; suppose he did unlive +_Thurston_ in faire duell? + +_Sir Hu_. No duell can be fayre, cause tis against +The kingdomes lawes. + +_Suc_. The kingdomes lawes! how shall +A Gent[leman] that has a blemish cast +Upon his life, faire reputac[i]on, +Have satisfaction then? allow no duells! +Hel! a man of armes had better live in woods +And combate wolves then among such milke sops. +The kingdomes lawes! + +_Crac_. Patience, good Captaine; we will have duells lawful. + +_Suc_. Tis fit they should, being legitimacy managd, sir.] + + _Enter Constable and Prisoners_. + +_Sir Gef_. O, soe; are you come? weele tickle you ifaith. + +_Con_. Soe please you, heare are the prisoners. + +_Sir Hu_. Tis well, we have waited them. Madam, +I should have bin more fortunate to have scene you +In any place but this; and here, +In any other cause then this, I would use you +As the precedent carridge of your life +Has merited, but cannot: y'are a prisoner +Convict of murder, a most hideous crime +Gainst law and nature. + +_Sir Gef_. Yes, marry is it, and that she shall find ere we have don. +_Bunch_, read their indictments, _Bunch_. She had as good have married +me, I warrant her. + +_Sir Hu_. Good Sir _Geffrey_, silence a while. Who is the accuser? + +_Con_. Here. + +_Sir Hu_. What have you, freind, to object against this lady? + +_Con_. That she confesd it was by her procurement and comaunde her sonn +murderd young _Thurston_. + +_Lady_. Please you, sir, that a poore prisoner may entreate one favour. + +_Sir Gef_. Yes, you shall have favour! + +_Sir Hu_. Any thing mercy can graunt unpreiudiciall to Iustice. + +_Lady_. Then this: +You shall not need to produce witnesses +Or charge a Iury to designe me guilty +Of _Thurstons_ murder. I confess it to you, +Twas only I that slew him. + +_Sir Gef_. Marke that, Sir: shee that slew him! do you hear? + +_Sir Hu_. Pray disturbe her not.--How comes it then, Madam, to be +affirmd your Sonn did kill him? + +_Sir Gef_. I, lets heare that, how it comes: well remembred, you did +even speake before me. + +_Crac_. O how learnedly could I speake now, might I have licence! + +_Lady_. Pray, Sir, +Let me not be oppresd with noyse; my cause +Beares not so slender waight. For my owne life, +So many reasons forfeit it to death +That 'twere a Sinn, had I a will to live, +To plead to save it; but for this my sonn +I do beseech a hearing. + +_Sir Hu_. Speake freely, lady. + +_Lady_. Thus then: +Suppose the wrested rigor of your lawes +Uniustly sentenc'd any here to death, +And you enforce on some unwilling man +The present execution of your act, +You will not after cause the instrument +Of your decree, as guilty of his blood, +To suffer as a Homicide: how then +Can your impartiall Judgment +Censure my sonn for this which was my fact? +_Thurston_ the malice of my will wishd dead: +My instigation and severe comaund +Compeld him to atcheiv't, and you will graunt +Noe princes lawes retaine more active force +To ingage a subiect to performe their hests +Then natures does astring a dewtious child +To obey his parent. + +_Sir Gef_. Pish, all this is nothing: there is a flat statute against +it,--let me see,--in Anno vigessimo tricessimo, Henerio octavo be it +enacted,--what followes, _Bunch_? + +_Sir Hu_. Nay, good Sir, peace-- +Madam, these are but wild evasions +For times protraction; for your paritie, +It cannot hold; since Nature does enforce +Noe child to obey his parent in an act +That is not good and iust. + +_Lady_. Why, this seemd both +To his obedience; but relinquish that +And come to Conscience: does it not comaund +In its strict Canons to exact no more +Then blood for blood, unlesse you doe extort +Worse then an usurer. For _Thurstons_ life +I offer myne, which if it be to meane +To appease your Justice, let it satisfie +Your mercie. Spare my Sonn and I shall goe +As willingly to death as to my rest +After a painfull child birthe. Looke on him! +How fitt the subiect is to invite your pittie! +What Tyrant hand would cut this Cedar up +Ere its full groath (at which it stately head +Would give a shade to heaven), or pluck this Rose +As yet scarce blossomd? + +_Sir Gef_. Hum, what says _Bunch_? + +_Lady_. Mercy wilbe proud +T'infold him gently in her Ivory armes, +And, as she walkes along with him, each word +He speakes sheele greedily catch at with a kisse +From his soft lipps such as the amorous Fawnes +Enforce on the light Satyrs. Let[130] me dy +Who, like the palme, when consious that tis void +Of fruite and moysture, prostratly doe begg +A Charitable headsman. + +_Sir Hu_. So bad a cause +Deserves not to be pleaded thus. Deere madam, +Greife overwhelmes me for you, that your guilt +Has damp'd the eyes of mercy and undone +All intercession. Please you desist: +We must proceed to th'examination +Of the other prisoners.-- +Sir _Geffrey_, we shall need your grave assistance: +Sir _Geffrey_, be more attentive. + +_Sir Gef_. Tis very necessary. I wilbe sworne she did bewitch me; I +thinke I was almost asleepe. But now to yee, I faith; come on, what can +you say that Judgment shall not passe against you? + +_Tho_. Sir, you are the Judge here? + +_Sir Hu_. Yes, sir, why question you my power? + +_Tho_. Noe, scarlett man, I question thy witt, +At least thy Humanity and the Conscience +That dares imagine to destroy this wealth, +To hang this matchless diamond in the eare +Of _Ethiope_ Death. Send him to file thy house, +Strike with his dart thy Children and thy selfe, +Gray bearded miscreant, whose best acts compard +With _Thurstons_ murder (cause this lady did [it]) +Are full iniquity. + +[_Suc_.[131] The man speaks home and boldly.] + +_Sir Hu_. Sir, you are fitter for a Jayle, a Bedlam, +Then to stand free before us. +What? art thou mad, man? + +_Sir Gef_. Yes, what are you, Sir. I aske to, though +I know y[ou well] enough. What are you? + +_Tho_. I am one, +To expresse my selfe in my true character, +Soe full of civill reason and iust truth +That to denie my owne peculiar act +I should esteeme as base and black a sinne +As _Scythians_[132] doe adultery: twas I +That gave this lady councell to invade +That _Thurstons_ life, and out of cowardise, +Feareing my person, set this bold young man +To be his murderer. Ime the principall, +The very source from whence this brooke of bloode +Fetches its spring. + +_Sir Hu_. Still more of the conspiracy! Sir, what say +You to these designements? + +_Suc_. Say, sir, you slew the man in equall duell: +Twill bring you off, I warrant you. + +_Sir Gef_. Answere, you youth of valour, you that dare +See men of credit bleede. Ha! + +_Y. M_. Sir, I am to dy, and should I now speake false +Twould be a maine addicon to the ill +What I alone comitted: for this man, +Howsoere his fury does transport his tongue, +Hees guiltlesse on't: I must confesse my Mother +Did, for some private wrong which he had don, +Wish me to call him to account; but this +Steward did with all violence sollicit +That I should slay him. + +_Alex_. Whoe? I? goe to; ist come to this? + +_Sir Hu_. Sir, you must answer this. + +_Sir Gef_. Marke how the mischeife lookes. + +_Alex_. I doe defie thy mallice, thou falce Judge. +Goe to; my [Mrs.] I appeal to, she that knowes my vertue and Integrity. + +_Sir Hu_. Away with him toth Jayle: a publique Sessions may [ere] long +from thence deliver him to the gallowes. + +_Const_. Come, Sir. + [_Exeunt Const, and Alex_. + +_Sir Hu_. Madam, for you and for your Sonn, your crimes +Being soe manifest, I wish you would +Prepare your selves for heaven. Meantime you must remaine +Saffe prissoners untill the Judges sitt, +Who best may give a sentence on your fact. + +_Tho_. And what for me? + +_Sir Gef_. I, what for him, Mr Justice? + +_Sir Hu_. Sure your words +Rather proceed from some distraction +Then from similitude of truth. You may +Begon, we do quitt you. + +_Tho_. And Ile quit my selfe +Of what you will not, [of] my hated life. +You have condemnd a lady who may claime +As many slaves to wait on her in death +As the most superstitious _Indian_ prince +(That carries servants to attend ith grave) +Can by's prerogative; nor shall she want +Waiters, while you and I, my reverend Judg, +Are within reach of one another. + [_Offers att the Record_. + +_Suc_. Death, Sir! +Dare you presume to draw before us men +Of stout performance? + +_Sir Gef_. You sir, weele have you hangd to, sir, with the Steward. + +_Sir Hu_. We doe forgive him; twas his passion. +Tis manly to forbeare infirmities +In noble soules. +Away with the delinquents, officers![133] + +_Sir Gef_.[134] I charge you looke to them: there is +some rescue intended, I warrant you. + +_Con_. Sir, yonder are some six or seaven without, +Attird like Masquers, that will not be denied +Admittance. + +_Sir Hu_. What are they? + +_Con_. [Faith[135]] we know not, +Nor will they tell us, only this they say: +Heareing of the lady _Marlowe's_ condemnation, +They are come +With shew of death to make her more prepard fort. + +_Sir Hu_. We will deny none of her freinds to see her; +They can intend noe rescue. + +_Con_. Noe, my life ont, sir: they come unarm'd. + +_Sir Hu_. Be still; letts see this misterie. + + _Florish, Horrid Musike. Enter Death, Gri., and Furies_. + +_Gri_. If in charnell houses, Caves, +Horrid grots and mossie graves, +Where the mandraks hideous howles +Welcome bodies voide of soules, +My power extends, why may not I +Hugg those who are condemd to dy? +Grimme _Dispaire_, arise and bring +_Horror_ with thee and the king +Of our dull regions; bid the rest +Of your Society be addrest, +As they feare the frowne of chaunce, +To grace this presense with a daunce. + + _Recorders. Enter Hymen and the Lovers_. + +_Tim_. _Death_, avaunt! thou hast no power; +This is _Hymens_ happie hower. +Away to the dark shades! hence! +And, grim _Dispaire_, let _Innocence_ +Triumph, and bring eternall peace +To all your soules and Joys increase. +Smile, smile, sweet ayre, on us that come +To sing _Deaths_ Epicedium. +Extract from roses gentlest winds, +Such odors as young _Hymen_ finds +At sweet _Arabian_ nuptialls; let +The youthfull graces here beget +Soe smooth a peace that every breath +May blesse this marriage of _Death_. +Feare nothing, lady, whose bright eye +Sing'd _Deaths_ wings as he flew by: +Wee therefore, trust me, only come +To sing _Deaths_ Epicedium. [_discover_, + +_Tim_. Stay, stay, by your leave Mr. Justice.-- +Madam,[136] your servant _Timothy_ brings you newes +You must not dy. Know you this Gentleman? + +_Sir Gef_. Now, on my knighthood, Mr. _Thurston_. + +_Lady_. Amazement leave me: is he living? + +_Sir Hu_. Are we deluded? + +_Tim_. So it appeares, Sir: the gent[leman] never had hurt; hees here, +and let him speake for himselfe and this gentlewoman his wife. + +_Lady_. Who? _Clariana_? + +_Thu_. With your leave, reverend father.--To you, Madam, +Whome I must now call Mother, first your pardon +That the conceivd report of my faind death +Has brought you to this triall: next +For this your daughter and your sonn, whose virtues +Redeemd [me] from the death your rage had thought +I should have suffred, he agreeing with me +Consented to appeach himselfe of that +He nere intended, and procurd this man +As his accuser of my murder, which +Was but contrivd to let you see the error +Of your sterne malice; that, acquainted with +The foulenesse of the fact, by the effect +You might repent it and bestow your blessing +On us your Suppliant Children. + +_Cla_. Which we beg +With hearty sorrow, if we have transgresd +Our duty to you. + +_Sir Hu_. I am happie to see so blesd a period. + +_Sir Gef_. Ha, ha, widdow, are you come of thus, widdow? You may thanke +me: I hope youle have me now, widdow. + +_Lady_. This soddaine comfort, +Had I not yet a relique left of greife, +Would like a violent torrent overbeare +The banks of my mortallity. Oh, _Thurston_, +Whom I respect with a more sacred love +Then was my former; take my blessing with her +And all the wishes that a ioyfull mother +Can to a child devote: had my _Belisia_ +And her deare _Bonvill_ livd, this happy day +Should have beheld a double wedding. + +[_Suc_.[137] Death, must he have her then?] + +_Sir Hu_. Spoake like a mother. + +_Tho_. Madam, +The surplusage of love that's in my breast +Must needs have vent in gratulation +Of your full ioyes. Would you mind your promise, +And make me fortunate in your love! + +_Lady_. Sir, I have vowd, +Since by my meanes my daughter and her love +Perishd unhappily, to seclude my selfe +From mans Society. + + [_Bonvil, Belisia, and Grimes discover_. + +_Tho_. Weele cancell +That obligation quickly.--Lady, I now +Will urge your promise: twas a plot betwixt us +To give them out for drownd, least your pursuite +Should have impeachd their marriage, which is now +Most iustly consummate; and[138] only I +Remaine at your devotion for a wife. + +_Lady_. Take her, +And with me a repentance as profound +As Anchorites for their sin pay. + +_Sir Hu_. Madam, how blest am I +To see you thus past hope recovered, +My mirth at your faire wedding shall demonstrate. + +_Sir Gef_. I will daunce too, that[s] certain, though +I breake my legs or get the tissick. + +[_Suc_.[139] Doe you know me, Sir? + +_Bon_. Yes, very well, sir. + +_Suc_. You are married, sir. + +_Bon_. I, what of that? + +_Suc_. Nothing, but send you Joy, sir?] + +_Lady_. But where's my Steward? hees not hangd I hope: +This mirth admits no Tragedy. + +_Gri_. Behold the figure. + +_Alex_. I crave forgivenesse. + +_Lady_. Goe to, you have it. + +_Alex_. Thanke you, madam,--I, I will goe to and goe to, and there be +ere a wench to be got for love or money, rath[er] then plot murder: tis +the sweeter sinn of [the two]; besides, theres noe danger of ones cragg; +[the] worst is but stand in one sheet for ly[ing] in two: and therefore +goe to and goe to, I [say] and I sayt agen. + +_Sir Gef_. _Bunch_ take my cloake, _Bunch_; it shal [not] be sed, so +many weddings and nere a Da[nce]: for soe many good turnes the hangman +ha done you, theres one for all, hey! + +_Tho_. Well said, Sir _Geffrey_. + +_Sir Gef_. Hey, when I was young! but come, we loose [time]: every one +his lasse, and stricke up Musick! + + _Daunce_. + +_Lady_. Now, gentlemen, my thanks to all, and since +[I]t is my good hap to escape these ills, +Goe in with me and celebrate this feast +With choyse solemnitie; where our discourse +Shall merrily forgett these harmes, and prove +Theres no Arraingment like to that of love. + + [_Exeunt omnes_. + + +FINIS. + + + +_This Play, call'd the Lady Moth[er] (the Reformacons observ'd) may be +acted. October the xvth_, 1635. + +WILL. BLAGRAVE, _Dept. to the [Master] of the Revell[s]_. + + + + + + +INTRODUCTION TO THE TRAGEDY OF SIR JOHN VAN OLDEN BARNAVELT. + + +I have never met anywhere with the slightest allusion to this fine +historical play, now for the first time printed from a MS.[140] in the +British Museum (Add. MS. 18,653). It is curious that it should have been +left to the present editor to call attention to a piece of such +extraordinary interest; for I have no hesitation in predicting that +Barnavelt's Tragedy, for its splendid command of fiery dramatic +rhetoric, will rank among the masterpieces of English dramatic +literature. + +On a first rapid inspection I assumed, with most uncritical +recklessness, that Chapman was the author. There are not wanting points +of general resemblance between Chapman's Byron and the imperious, +unbending spirit of the great Advocate as he is here represented; but in +diction and versification, the present tragedy is wholly different from +any work of Chapman's. When I came to transcribe the piece, I soon +became convinced that it was to a great extent the production of +Fletcher. There can, I think, be no reasonable doubt about the +authorship of such lines as the following:-- + + "_Barnavelt_. My noble Lords, what is't appeares upon me + So ougly strange you start and fly my companie? + What plague sore have ye spide, what taynt in honour, + What ill howre in my life so cleere deserving + That rancks in this below your fellowships? + For which of all my cares, of all my watches, + My services (too many and too mightie + To find rewards) am I thus recompenced, + Not lookd on, not saluted, left forgotten + Like one that came to petition to your honours-- + Over the shoulder slighted? + + _Bredero_. Mounsieur _Barnavelt_, + I am sorry that a man of your great wisdom + And those rare parts that make ye lov'd and honourd, + In every Princes Court highly esteemd of, + Should loose so much in point of good and vertue + Now in the time you ought to fix your faith fast, + The credit of your age, carelessly loose it,-- + dare not say ambitiously,--that your best friends + And those that ever thought on your example + Dare not with comon safetie now salute ye" (iii. 1). + +Such a verse as,-- + + "In every Princes Court highly esteemd of," + +or,-- + + "Now in the time you ought to fix your faith fast," + +can belong only to Fletcher. The swelling, accumulative character of the +eloquence is another proof; for Fletcher's effects are gained not by a +few sharp strokes, but by constant iteration, each succeeding line +strengthening the preceding until at last we are fronted by a column of +very formidable strength. Let us take another extract from the same +scene:-- + + "_Barnavelt_. When I am a Sychophant + And a base gleaner from an others favour, + As all you are that halt upon his crutches,-- + Shame take that smoothness and that sleeke subjection! + I am myself, as great in good as he is, + As much a master of my Countries fortunes, + And one to whom (since I am forc'd to speak it, + Since mine own tongue must be my Advocate) + This blinded State that plaies at boa-peep with us, + This wanton State that's weary of hir lovers + And cryes out 'Give me younger still and fresher'! + Is bound and so far bound: I found hir naked, + Floung out a dores and starvd, no friends to pitty hir, + The marks of all hir miseries upon hir, + An orphan State that no eye smild upon: + And then how carefully I undertooke hir, + How tenderly and lovingly I noursd hir! + But now she is fatt and faire againe and I foold, + A new love in hir armes, my doatings scornd at. + And I must sue to him! be witnes, heaven, + If this poore life were forfeyt to his mercy, + At such a rate I hold a scornd subjection + I would not give a penney to redeeme it. + I have liv'd ever free, onely depended + Upon the honestie of my faire Actions, + Nor am I now to studdy how to die soe." + +The whole scene is singularly fine and impressive; it shows us Fletcher +at his highest. + +But in other passages we find a second hand at work. In the second scene +of the third act there is far less exuberance of language and a +different style of versification, as may be seen in the following +lines:-- + + "_Orange_. My grave Lords, + That it hath byn my happines to take in, + And with so little blood, so many Townes + That were falne off, is a large recompence + For all my travell; and I would advise + That (since all now sing the sweet tunes of Concord, + No Sword unsheathd, the meanes to hurt cut off + And all their stings pluckd out that would have usd them + Against the publique peace) we should end here + And not with labour search for that which will + Afflict us when 'tis found. Something I know + That I could wish I nere had understood, + Which yet if I should speake, as the respect + And duty that I owe my Country bids me, + It wilbe thought 'tis rather privat spleene + Then pious zeale. But that is not the hazard + Which I would shun: I rather feare the men + We must offend in this, being great, rich, wise, + Sided with strong friends, trusted with the guard + Of places most important, will bring forth + Rather new births of tumult, should they be + Calld to their Triall, then appease disorder + In their just punishment; and in doing Justice + On three or four that are delinquents, loose + So many thousand inocents that stand firme + And faithfull patriots. Let us leave them therefore + To the scourge of their owne consciences: perhaps + Th'assurance that they are yet undiscoverd, + Because not cyted to their answeare, will + So work with them hereafter to doe well + That we shall joy we sought no farther in it." + +Here we have vigorous writing, staid and grave and unimpassioned, and a +more regular metre. In determining questions of authorship I have so +often found myself (and others, too) at fault, that I shrink from +adopting the dictatorial tone assumed in these matters by learned +Germans and a few English scholars. But I think in the present instance +we may speak with tolerable certainty. Before my mind had been made up, +my good friend, Mr. Fleay, pronounced strongly in favour of Massinger. +He is, I think, right; in fact, it is beyond the shadow of a doubt that +Massinger wrote the speech quoted above. In all Massinger's work there +is admirable ease and dignity; if his words are seldom bathed in tears +or steeped in fire, yet he never writes beneath his subject. He had a +rare command of an excellent work-a-day dramatic style, clear, vigorous, +free from conceit and affectation. But he is apt to grow didactic, and +tax the reader's patience; and there is often a want of coherence in his +sentences, which amble down the page in a series of loosely-linked +clauses. I will not examine scene by scene in detail; for I must frankly +confess that I feel myself sometimes at a loss to determine whether a +particular passage is by Fletcher or Massinger. Most of the impassioned +parts belong, I think, to the former. I would credit Massinger with the +admirably conducted trial-scene in the fourth act; but the concluding +scene of the play, where Barnavelt is led to execution, I would ascribe, +without hesitation, to Fletcher. In the scene (v. 1) where the French +ambassador pleads for Barnavelt we recognise Massinger's accustomed +temperance and dignity. To the graver writer, too, we must set down +Leydenberg's solemn and pathetic soliloquy (iii. 6), when by a voluntary +death he is seeking to make amends for his inconstancy and escape from +the toils of his persecutors. + +There is no difficulty in fixing the date of the present play. Barneveld +was executed on May 13, 1619, and the play must have been written +immediately afterwards, when all Christendom was ringing with the news +of the execution. In the third scene of the first act there is a +marginal note signed "G.B." The initials are unquestionably those of Sir +George Buc, Master of the Revels from 1610 to 1622.[141] On comparing +the note with an autograph letter[142] of Sir George's I find the +hand-writing to correspond exactly. The date, therefore, cannot be later +than 1622, but the probability is that the play was produced at +Michaelmas, 1619. + +In our own day the great Advocate's fame, which had been allowed to fall +into neglect, has been revived with splendour by Mr. Motley, whose "Life +of John of Barneveld" is a monument _aere perennius_ of loving labour, +masterful grasp, and rare eloquence. Had the dramatists been in +possession of a tithe of the facts brought to light from mouldering +state documents by the historian, they would have regarded Barneveld's +faults with a milder eye, and shown more unqualified praise for his +great and noble qualities. But they are to be commended in that they saw +partially through the mists of popular error and prejudice; that they +refused to accept a caricature portrait, and proclaimed in unmistakable +accents the nobility of the fallen Advocate. Perhaps it is not so +strange that this tragedy dropped from sight. Its representation +certainly could not have been pleasing to King James; for that +murderous, slobbering, detestable villain had been untiring in his +efforts to bring about Barneveld's ruin. + +Throughout the play there are marks of close political observation. To +discover the materials from which the playwrights worked up their solid +and elaborate tragedy would require a more extensive investigation than +I care to undertake. An account of Barneveld's trial, defence, and +execution may be found in the following tracts:-- + +([Greek: alpha]) "Barnavel's Apologie, or Holland's Mysteria: with +marginall Castigations, 1618." The Apology, originally written in Dutch, +had been translated into Latin, and thence into English. The +Castigations, by "Robert Houlderus, Minister of the Word of God," are +remarkable, even in the annals of theological controversy, for gross +blackguardism. After indulging in the most loathsome displays of foul +brutality, this "Minister of the Word of God" ends with the cheerful +prayer,--"That they whom Thou hast predestinated to salvation may +alwayes have the upper hand and triumph in the certainty of their +salvation: but they whom Thou has created unto confusion, and as vessels +of Thy just wrath, may tumble and be thrust headlong thither whereto +from all eternitie Thou didst predestinate them, even before they had +done any good or evil." + +([Greek: beta]) "Newes out of Holland: concerning Barnavelt and his +fellow-Prisoners, their Conspiracy against their Native Country with the +enemies thereof: The Oration and Propositions made in their behalfe unto +the Generall States of the United Provinces at the Hage, by the +Ambassadours of the French King," &c., 1619. + +([Greek: gamma]) "The Arraignment of John Van Olden Barnavelt, late +Advocate of Holland and West Freisland. Containing the articles +alleadged against him and the reasons of his execution," &c., 1619. + + * * * * * + +"This magnificent play is mainly the production of Fletcher and +Massinger: it must have been written between May, 1619, and May, 1622, +for the King's company acting at Blackfriars. T[homas] Hol[combe] acted +a woman's part in it: so did G. Lowin, perhaps a son of John Lowin, +unless indeed G. is a miswriting for J., as sometimes happens. It is +singular that one has no knowledge whatever of Thomas Holcombe, except +as an actor in Fletcher's plays: although so many of the lists of the +king's men of that date have come down to us. Mr. Gough who took the +part of Leidenberg, is Robert Gough, not Alexander: the latter acted +only in Charles I.'s time. Another actor, Michael, is unknown: probably +a super."--F.G. FLEAY. + +Since the above paragraph was written, I have found in the MS. the names +of three more actors, Jo[hn] Rice, Bir[ch], and T[homas] Po[llard]. The +following note, for which I am indebted to Mr. Fleay, will be read with +interest:--"It is noticeable that a play called the Jeweller of +Amsterdam or the Hague, by John Fletcher, Nathaniel Field, and Phillip +Massinger, was entered on the Stationers' Books 8th April, 1654, but not +printed. This play must have been written between 1617 and 1619, while +Field was connected with the King's company, and undoubtedly referred to +the murder of John Van Wely, the Jeweller of Amsterdam, by John of +Paris, the confidential groom of Prince Maurice, in 1619. It is _prima +facie_ likely that the same authors would be employed on both plays. +Field, Daborne, Dekker and Fletcher are the only authors known to have +written in conjunction with Massinger; and Dekker and Daborne are out of +the question for that company at that date. We are now enabled to fix +the date of the 'Fatal Dowry,' by Field and Massinger, as c. 1618." + + + + +THE TRAGEDY OF SIR JOHN VAN OLDEN BARNAVELT. + + + + +Sir John Van Olden Barnavelt. + + + +_Actus Primus_. + +SCAENA PRIMA. + + + _Enter Barnavelt, Modes-bargen, Leidenberck, and Grotius_. + +_Bar_. The Prince of _Orange_ now, all names are lost els! +That hees alone the Father of his Cuntrie! +Said you not so? + +_Leid_. I speake the peoples Language. + +_Bar_. That to his arme and sword the Provinces owe +Their flourishing peace? that hees the armyes soule +By which it moves to victorie? + +_Mod_. So 'tis said, Sir. + +_Leid_. Nay, more; that without him dispaire and ruyn +Had ceazd on all and buried quick our safeties. + +_Gro_. That had not he in act betterd our counsailes +And in his execution set them off, +All we designd had ben but as a tale +Forgot as soone as told. + +_Leid_. And with such zeale +This is deliverd that the Prince beleeves it; +For Greatnes, in her owne worth confident, +Doth never waigh but with a covetous hand +His lightest meritts, and who add to the scale +Seldom offend. + +_Gro_. 'Tis this that swells his pride +Beyond those lymitts his late modestie +Ever observd. This makes him count the Soldier +As his owne creature, and to arrogate +All prosperous proceedings to himself; +Detracts from you and all men, you scarce holding +The second place. + +_Bar_. When I gave him the first: +I robd myself, for it was justly mine. +The labourinthes of pollicie I have trod +To find the clew of safetie, for my Cuntrie +Requird a head more knowing and a courage +As bold as his,--though I must say 'tis great. +His stile of Excellencie was my guift; +Money, the strength and fortune of the war, +The help of _England_ and the aide of _Fraance_, +I only can call mine: and shall I then, +Now in the sun-set of my daie of honour, +When I should passe with glory to my rest +And raise my Monument from my Cuntries praises, +Sitt downe and with a boorish patience suffer +The harvest that I labourd for to be +Anothers spoile? the peoples thancks and praises, +Which should make faire way for me to my grave, +To have another object? the choice fruites +Of my deepe projects grace anothers Banquet? +No; this ungratefull Cuntry, this base people, +Most base to my deserts, shall first with horrour +Know he that could defeat the _Spanish_ counsailes +And countermyne their dark works, he that made +The State what 'tis, will change it once againe +Ere fall with such dishonour. + +_Mod_. Be advisd, Sir; +I love you as a friend, and as a wise man +Have ever honourd you: be as you were then, +And I am still the same. Had I not heard +Theis last distemperd words, I would have sworne +That in the making up of _Barnavelt_ +Reason had only wrought, passion no hand in't. +But now I find you are lesse then a man, +Lesse then a common man, and end that race +You have so long run strongly like a child, +For such a one old age or honours surfeyts +Againe have made you. + +_Bar_. This to me? + +_Mod_. To you, Sir: +For is't not boyish folly (youthfull heat +I cannot call it) to spume downe what all +His life hath labourd for? Shall _Barnavelt_ +That now should studie how to die, propound +New waies to get a name? or keep a being +A month or two to ruyn whatsoever +The good succes of forty yeeres employment +In the most serious affaires of State +Have raisd up to his memory? And for what? +Glory, the popular applause,--fine purchase +For a gray beard to deale in! + +_Gro_. You offend him. + +_Mod_. 'Tis better then to flatter him as you doe. +Be but yourself againe and then consider +What alteration in the State can be +By which you shall not loose. Should you bring in +(As heaven avert the purpose and the thought +Of such a mischief) the old Tirrany +That _Spaine_ hath practisd, do you thinck you should be +Or greater then you are or more secure +From danger? Would you change the goverment, +Make it a Monarchie? Suppose this don +And any man you favourd most set up, +Shall your authoritie by him encrease? +Be not so foolishly seducd; for what +Can hope propose to you in any change +Which ev'n now you posses not? + +_Bar_. Doe not measure +My ends by yours. + +_Mod_. I know not what you ayme at. +For thirtie yeeres (onely the name of king +You have not had, and yet your absolute powre +Hath ben as ample) who hath ben employd +In office, goverment, or embassie, +Who raisd to wealth or honour that was not +Brought in by your allowaunce? Who hath held +His place without your lycence? Your estate is +Beyond a privat mans: your Brothers, Sonnes, +Frendes, Famylies, made rich in trust and honours: +Nay, this grave _Maurice_, this now Prince of _Orange_, +Whose popularitie you weakely envy, +Was still by you commaunded: for when did he +Enter the feild but 'twas by your allowaunce? +What service undertake which you approv'd not? +What victory was won in which you shard not? +What action of his renownd in which +Your counsaile was forgotten? Yf all this then +Suffice not your ambition but you must +Extend it further, I am sorry that +You give me cause to feare that when you move next +You move to your destruction. + +_Bar_. Yf I fall +I shall not be alone, for in my ruyns +My Enemies shall find their Sepulchers. +_Modes-bargen_, though in place you are my equall, +The fire of honour, which is dead in you, +Burnes hotly in me, and I will preserve +Each glory I have got, with as much care +As I acheivd it. Read but ore the Stories +Of men most fam'd for courage or for counsaile. +And you shall find that the desire of glory +(That last infirmity of noble minds) +Was the last frailty wise men ere putt of: +Be they my presidents. + +_Gro_. 'Tis like yourself, +Like _Barnavelt_, and in that all is spoken. + +_Leid_. I can do something in the State of _Utrecht_, +And you shall find the place of Secretarie, +Which you conferd upon me there, shall be, +When you employ me, usefull. + +_Gro_. All I am +You know you may commaund: Ile nere enquire +What 'tis you goe about, but trust your counsailes +As the Auncients did their Oracles. + +_Mod_. Though I speak +Not as a flatterer, but a friend, propound +What may not prejudice the State, and I +Will goe as far as any. + + _Enter 2 Captaines_. + +_Bar_. To all my service:[143] +Ere long you shall know more.--What are theis? + +_Leid_. Captaines +That raild upon the Comissary. + +_Bar_. I remember. + +1 _Cap_. Why, you dare charge a foe i'the head of his troope, +And shake you to deliver a petition +To a statesman and a frend? + +2 _Cap_. I need not seek him, +He has found me; and, as I am a soldier, +His walking towards me is more terrible +Then any enemies march I ever mett with. + +1 _Cap_. We must stand to it. + +_Bar_. You, Sir, you? + +2 _Cap_. My Lord. + +_Bar_. As I use this I waigh you: you are he +That when your Company was viewd and checkd +For your dead paies,[144] stood on your termes of honour, +Cryde out "I am a Gentleman, a Commaunder, +And shall I be curbd by my lords the States," +(For thus you said in scorne) "that are but Merchants, +Lawyers, Apothecaries, and Physitians, +Perhaps of worser ranck"? But you shall know, Sir, +They are not such, but Potentates and Princes +From whom you take pay. + +1 _Cap_. This indeed is stately: +Statesmen, d'you call 'em? + +2 _Cap_. I beseech your Lordship: +'Twas wine and anger. + +_Bar_. No, Sir; want of dutie: +But I will make that tongue give him the lye +That said soe, drunck or sober; take my word for't. +Your Compaine is cast: you had best complaine +To your Great Generall, and see if he +Can of himself maintaine you,--Come, _Modes-bargen_. + + [_Exeunt Barnavelt, Modes-bargen, and Grotius_, + +_Leid_. I am sorry for you, Captaine, but take comfort: +I love a Soldier, and all I can doe +To make you what you were, shall labour for you. +And so, good morrow, Gentlemen. + [_Exit_. + +1 _Cap_. Yet theres hope; +For you have one friend left. + +2 _Cap_. You are deceivd, Sir, +And doe not know his nature that gave promise +Of his assistance. + +1 _Cap_. Who is't? + +2 _Cap_. _Leidenberck_. +One of the Lords, the States, and of great powre too; +I would he were as honest. This is he +That never did man good, and yet no Suitor +Ever departed discontented from him. +Hee'll promise any thing: I have seene him talke +At the Church dore with his hat of to a Begger +Almost an houre togeather, yet when he left him +He gave him not a doyt. He do's profes +To all an outward pitty, but within +The devills more tender: the great plague upon him! +Why thinck I of him? he's no part of that +Must make my peace. + +1 _Cap_. Why, what course will you take then? + +2 _Cap_. A Bribe to _Barnavelts_ wiffe, or a kind wench +For my yong lord his Son, when he has drunck hard. +There's no way els to doo't. + +1 _Cap_. I have gold good store +You shall not want that; and if I had thought on't +When I left _London_, I had fitted you +For a convenient Pagan. + +2 _Cap_. Why, is there +Such store they can be spard? + +1 _Cap_.[145] ... ... ... + +2 _Cap_. I thanck you, Sir. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +SCAENA 2. + + + _Enter[146] Barnavelt, Modes-bargen, Leidenberck, + Grotius, and Hogebeets_. + +_Bar_. The States are sitting: all that I can doe +Ile say in little; and in me theis Lords +Promise as much. I am of your belief +In every point you hold touching religion, +And openly I will profes myself +Of the _Arminian_ sect. + +_Gro_. You honour it. + +_Hog_.[147] And all our praires and service. + +_Bar_. Reverend man +Your loves I am ambitious of. Already +'Tis knowne I favour you, and that hath drawne +Libells against me; but the stinglesse hate +Of those that wryte them I contempne. + +_Hog_. They are worthie +Of nothing but contempt. + +_Bar_. That I confes, too; +But yet we must expect much opposition +Ere your opinions be confirmd. I know +The _Prince of Orange_ a sworne enemie +To your affections: he has vowd to crosse you, +But I will still stand for you. My advice is +That, having won the Burgers to your partie, +Perswade them to enroll new Companies +For their defence against the Insolence +Of the old Soldiers garisond at _Utrecht_. +Yet practise on them, too, and they may urge this: +That since they have their pay out of that Province, +Justice requires they should be of their partie: +All that is don in _Utrecht_ shalbe practisd +In _Roterdam_ and other Townes I name not. +Farther directions you shall have hereafter, +Till when I leave you. + +_Gro_. With all zeale and care +We will performe this. [_Exit_.[148] + +_Leid_. This foundation +Is well begun. + +_Gro_. And may the building prosper. + +_Mod_. Yet let me tell you, where Religion +Is made a cloke to our bad purposes +They seldom have succes. + +_Bar_. You are too holly: +We live now not with Saincts but wicked men, +And any thriving way we can make use of, +What shape so ere it weares, to crosse their arts, +We must embrace and cherish; and this course +(Carrying a zealous face) will countenaunce +Our other actions. Make the Burgers ours, +Raise Soldiers for our guard, strengthen our side +Against the now unequall opposition +Of this Prince that contemns us;[149] at the worst, +When he shall know there are some Regiments +We may call ours, and that have no dependaunce +Upon his favour, 'twill take from his pride +And make us more respected. + +_Mod_. May it prove so. + + _Enter Bredero, Vandort, Officers_. + +_Bre_. Good day, my Lord. + +_Vand_. Good Mounseiur Advocate, +You are an early stirrer. + +_Bar_. 'Tis my dutie +To wayte your Lordships pleasure: please you to walke. + +_Bre_. The Prince is wanting, and this meeting being +Touching the oath he is to take, 'twere fitt +That we attend him. + +_Bar_. That he may set downe +What he will sweare, prescribing lymitts to us! +We need not add this wind by our observaunce +To sailes too full alredy. Oh, my Lords, +What will you doe? Have we with so much blood +Maintaind our liberties, left the allegeaunce +(How justly now it is no time to argue) +To _Spaine_, to offer up our slavish necks +To one that only is what we have made him? +For, be but you yourselves, this _Prince of Orange_ +Is but as _Barnavelt_, a Servant to +Your Lordships and the State; like me maintaind; +The pomp he keepes, at your charge: will you then +Wayt his prowd pleasure, and in that confes, +By daring to doe nothing, that he knowes not-- +You have no absolute powre? + +_Van_. I never sawe +The Advocate so mov'd. + +_Bar_. Now to be patient +Were to be treacherous: trust once his counsaile +That never yet hath faild you. Make him know +That any limb of this our reverend Senate +In powre is not beneath him. As we sitt +Ile yeild you further reasons; i'the meane time +Commaund him by the Officers of the Court +Not to presse in untill your Lordships pleasure +Be made knowne to him. + +_Vand_. 'Tis most requisite. + +_Leid_. And for the honour of the Court. + +_Vand_. Goe on; +You have my voice. + +_Bre_. And mine;--yet wee'll proceed +As judgement shall direct us. + +_Vand_. 'Tis my purpose. + +_Bar_. In this disgrace I have one foote on his neck; +Ere long Ile set the other on his head +And sinck him to the Center. + +_Leid_. Looke to the dores there. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +SCAENA 3. + + + _Enter[150] Pr. of Orange, Gra: William, + Collonells & Captaines_. + +_Or_. I, now methincks I feele the happynes +Of being sproong from such a noble father, +That sacrifizd his honour, life and fortune +For his lov'd Cuntry. Now the blood and kindred +Of _Horne_ and _Egmont_ (Memories great Martires), +That must outlive all _Alva's_ Tirranies +And when their Stories told ev'n shake his ashes, +Methincks through theis vaines now, now at this instant, +I feele their Cuntries losse; I feele[151] too-- + +_Will_. All feele sencibly, +And every noble hart laments their miseries, +And every eie, that labours not with mallice, +Sees your great services and through what dangers +You have raisd those noble speritts monuments. + +_Or_. What I have don I look not back to magnifie; +My Cuntry calld me to it. What I shall yet doe, +With all the industrie and strength I have lent me +And grace of heaven to guid, so it but satisfie +The expectation of the State commaunds me +And in my Cuntries eye appeere but lovely, +I shall sitt downe, though old and bruizd yet happie; +Nor can the bitter and bold tounge of mallice, +That never yet spoke well of faire deservings, +With all hir course aspersions floong upon me +Make me forsake my dutie, touch or shake me +Or gaine so much upon me as an anger, +Whilst here I hold me loyall. Yet believe, Gentlemen, +Theis wrongs are neither few nor slight, nor followed +By liberall tongues provokd by want or wine, +For such were to be smild at and so slighted, +But by those men, and shot so neer mine honour +I feare my person too; but, so the State suffer not, +I am as easie to forget. + +_Will_. Too easie; +And that feeds up their mallice to a Monster. +You are the arme oth' war, the Soldiers sperit; +The other but dead stories, you the dooer. + +_Col_. It stands not with the honour you have won, Sir, +Still built upon and betterd. + +_Or_. No more, good Collonell. + +_Col_. The love the Soldier beares you to give way thus! +To have your actions consturd, scornd and scoffd at +By such malignant soules! you are yourself, Sir, +And master of more mindes that love and honour ye.[152] + +_Will_. Yf you would see it; but take through the mallice +The evill intended now, now bent upon ye. + +_Or_. I pray ye, no more; as you love me, no more. +Stupid I never was nor so secure yet +To lead my patience to mine owne betraying: +I shall find time and riper cause.-- [_Guard at dore_. + Now, frends, +Are my Lords the States set yet. + +1 _Gu_. An houre agoe, Sir. + +_Or_. Beshrew ye, Gentlemen, you have made me tardy: +Open the dore, + +1 _Gu_. I beseech your Grace to pardon me.[153] + +_Or_. Do'st thou know who I am? + +1 _Gu_. Yes, Sir, and honour you. + +_Or_. Why do'st thou keep the dore fast then? + +_Will_. Thou fellow, +Thou sawcy fellow, and you that stand by gaping! +Is the Prince of no more value, no more respect +Then like a Page? + +2 _Gu_. We beseech your Excellencies +To pardon us; our duties are not wanting, +Nor dare we entertaine a thought to crosse ye: +We are placed here on Commaund. + +_Or_. To keepe me out? +Have I lost my place in Councell? are my services +Growne to so poore regards, my worth so bankrupt? +Or am I tainted with dishonest actions, +That I am held unfitt my Cuntries busines? +Who placd ye here? + +1 _Gu_. The body of the Councell; +And we beseech your Grace make it not our syn: +They gave us strict commaund to stop your passage. + +_Or_. 'Twas frendly don and like my noble masters. + +_Will_. Deny you place? make good the dore against ye? +This is unsufferable, most unsufferable. + +_Or_. Now I begin to feele those doubts; I feare still-- + +_Col_. So far to dare provoke ye! 'tis too monstrous; +And you forget your self, your birth, your honour, +The name of Soldier if you suffer this, +Suffer from these, these things, these--pox upon't!-- +These molds of men made noble by your services, +Your daylie sweatts. + +1 _Cap_. It must not be endured thus, +The wrong extends to us, we feele it severally. + +2 _Cap_. Your sweet humillitie has made 'em scorne ye +And us, and all the world that serve their uses; +And stick themselves up teachers, masters, princes, +Allmost new gods too, founders of new faithes. +--Weell force your way. + +_Col_. Let's see then who dare stop ye. + +_Gu_. Not we, I am sure. + +_Col_. Let's see who dare denie ye +Your place and right of councell. + +_Or_. Stay, I commaund ye; +He that puts forward first to this wild action +Has lost my love and is becom mine Enemy, +My mortall enemie. Put up your weapons, +You draw 'em against order, duty, faith; +And let me die ere render such examples. +The men you make so meane, so slight account of, +And in your angers prise, not in your honours, +Are Princes, powerfull Princes, mightie Princes; +That daylie feed more men of your great fashion +And noble ranck, pay and maintaine their fortunes, +Then any monarch _Europe_ has: and for this bountie, +If ye consider truly, Gentlemen, +And honestly, with thankfull harts remember, +You are to pay them back againe your service: +They are your masters, your best masters, noblest, +Those that protect your states, hold up your fortunes; +And for this good you are to sacrifize +Your thancks and duties, not your threats and angers. +I and all Soldiers els that strike with their armes, +And draw from them the meanes of life and honour, +Are doble tyde in faith to observe their pleasures. + +_Col_. A Prince of rare humanitie and temper. +Sir, as you teach us armes, you man our minds, too, +With civill precepts, making us true Soldiers, +Then worthie to receive a trust from others +When we stand masters of our owne discretions. + + _Enter Barnavelt, Modesbargen, Leidenberch, Grotius + Bredero, Vandort & Hogerbeets_. + +_Will_. Your good and great example tyes us all, Sir. + +_Cap_. The Councell's broken up. + +_Or_. My noble Lords, +Let it not seeme displeasing to your wisdomes, +I humbly ask in what I have offended, +Or how suspected stand, or with what cryme blotted, +That this day from your fellowship, your councell, +My Cuntries care and where I owe most service, +Like a man perishd in his worth I am exilde. + +_Bar_. Your Grace must know we cannot wait attendaunce, +Which happely you looke for. + +_Or_. Wayt, my lords! + +_Bar_. Nor what we shall designe for the States comfort +Stay your deliberate crosses. We know you are able, +And every way a wise Prince fitt for counsell; +But I must tell ye, Sir, and tell ye truly, +The Soldier has so blowne ye up, so swelld ye +And those few services you call your owne, +That now our commendations are too light gales, +Too slacke and emptie windes, to move your worthes; +And trumpets of your owne tongue and the Soldiers +Now onely fill your sailes. + +_Bre_. Be not so bitter. + +_Bar_. We mix with quiet speritts, staid and temperate, +And those that levell at not great but good ends +Dare hold us their Companions, not their Servants, +And in that ranck be ready to supply us. +Your Grace is growne too haughtie. + +_Leid_. Might it please you +But thinck, Sir, of our honest services +(I dare not terme them equall) and but waigh well, +In which I know your Grace a perfect master, +Your judgment excellent, and then but tell us +And truly (which I know your goodnes will doe) +Why should we seeme so poore, so undertrodden, +And though not trusted with the State and Councell, +Why so unable vallued. Pardon, great Sir, +If those complaine who feele the waight of envy, +If such poore trod on wormes make show to turne againe. +Nor is it we that feele, I hope, nor you, Sir, +That gives the cullour of this difference: +Rumour has many tongues but few speak truth: +We feele not onely,--if we did 'twere happie-- +Our Cuntry, Sir, our Cuntrie beares the blow too; +But you were ever noble. + +_Or_. Good my Lords, +Let it be free your Servant, chargd in mallice, +If not fling of his crymes, at least excuse 'em +To you my great correcter. Would to heaven, Sir, +That syn of pride and insolence you speake of, +That pufft up greatnes blowne from others follyes +Were not too neere akin to your great Lordship +And lay not in your bosom, your most deere one. +You taint me, Sir, with syns concerne my manners,-- +If I have such Ile studdy to correct 'em; +But, should I taint you, I should charge ye deeper: +The cure of those would make ye shrinck and shake, too, +--Shake of your head. + +_Bar_. You are too weak ith' hams, Sir. + +_Or_. Who raisd these new religious forces, Sir, +And by what warrant? what assignement had ye +From the States generall? who blew new fires? +Even fires of fowle rebellion, I must tell ye; +The bellowes to it, Religion. You were lov'd yet +But for your ends,--through all the Townes, the Garrisons, +To fright the union of the State, to shake it. +What syns are theis? You may smile with much comfort, +And they that see ye and not looke closely to ye +May crye too er't be long. + +_Bar_. Your Grace has leave, Sir, +And tis right good it be soe.--Follow me home, +And there Ile give ye new directions +How to proceed, and sodainely. + +_Leid_. | We are yours, Sir. +_Mod_. | + [_Exeunt Bar., Leid., Mod_. + +_Or_. My lords, to what a monster this man's grown +You may (if not abusd with dull securitie) +See plaine as day. + +_Bre_. We doe not like his carriage. + +_Van_. He do's all, speakes all, all disposes. + +_Or_. Spoiles all. +He that dare live to see him work his ends out +Uncrossd and unprevented, that wretched man +Dare live to see his Cuntry shrinck before him. +Consider my best lords, my noblest masters, +How most, most fitt, how just and necessary +A sodaine and a strong prevention. + +_Bre_. We all conceave your Grace and all look through him +And find him what we feare not yet but grieve at. +You shall have new Commission from us all +To take in all those Townes he has thrust his men in: +When you have that, proceed as likes your Excellence. + +_Or_. Your lordships true friend and most obedient Servant. + +_Van_. Come to the present busines then. + +_Or_. We attend you. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + + +_Actus Secundus_. + +SCAENA PRIMA. + + + _Enter Barnavelt, Leidenberch, Modesbargen_. + +_Bar_. I have with danger venturd thus far to you +That you might know by me our plot's discoverd. +But let not that discourage you: though _Van Dort_ +And _Bredero_, with others, have assented +To force this Towne, stand you still on your Guard, +And on my reputation rest assured +With violence they never dare attempt you; +For that would give the world to understand +Th'united Provinces, that by their concord +So long have held out 'gainst th'opposition +Of all _Spaines_ Governours, their plotts and armyes, +Make way to their most certaine ruyn by +A Civill warre. + +_Leid_. This cannot be denide. + +_Bar_. And so at any time we may make our peace, +Returning to our first obedience +Upon what termes we please. + +_Mod_. That is not certaine; +For, should we tempt them once to bring their forces +Against the Towne and find we give it up +For want of strength to keepe it, the Conditions +To which we must subscribe are in their will +And not our choice or pleasure. + +_Bar_. You are governd +More by your feare then reason. + +_Mod_. May it prove soe: +That way I would be guiltie. + +_Bar_. How appeere +The new raisd Companies? + +_Leid_. They stand full and faithfull; +And for the Burgers, they are well affected +To our designes. The _Arminians_ play their parts too, +And thunder in their meetings hell and dampnation +To such as hold against us. + +_Bar_. 'Tis well orderd: +But have you tride by any meanes (it skills not +How much you promise) to wyn the old Soldiers +(The _English_ Companies, in chief, I ayme at) +To stand firme for us? + +_Leid_. We have to that purpose +Imploid _Rock-Giles_, with some choice Burgers els +That are most popular to the Officers +That doe commaund here in the Collonells absence. +We expect them every mynitt. Yf your Lordship +(For 'tis not fitt, I think, you should be seene) +Will please to stand aside (yet you shalbe +Within the hearing of our Conference) +You shall perceive we will imploy all arts +To make them ours. + +_Mod_. They are come. + +_Bar_. Be earnest with them. + + _Enter Rock-Giles, 2 Burgers, Captaines, Leuitenant_. + +_R: Giles_. With much adoe I have brought 'em: the prowde Shellains[154] +Are paid too well, and that makes them forget +We are their Masters. + +1 _Burg_. But when we tooke them on, +Famishd allmost for want of entertainement, +Then they cryde out they would do any thing +We would commaund them. + +1 _Cap_. And so we say still, +Provided it be honest. + +_Giles_. Is it fitt +That mercenary Soldiers, that for pay +Give up their liberties and are sworne t'expose +Their lyves and fortunes to all dangers, should +Capitulate with their Lords? + +1 _Burg_. Prescribing when +They are pleasd to be commaunded and for what. + +_Giles_. Answeare to this. + +_Leuit_. You know our resolutions, +And therefore, Captaine, speak for all. + +1 _Cap_. I will, +And doe it boldly: We were entertaind +To serve the generall States and not one Province; +To fight as often as the Prince of _Orange_ +Shall lead us forth, and not to stand against him; +To guard this Cuntrie, not to ruyn it; +To beat of foreigne Enemies, not to cherish +Domestique factions. And where you upbraid us +With the poore means we have to feed, not cloath us, +Forgetting at how deere a rate we buy +The triffles we have from you, thus I answeare:-- +Noe Cuntrie ere made a defensive war +And gaind by it but you. What privat Gentleman +That onely trailes a pike, that comes from _England_ +Or _Fraunce_, but brings gold with him which he leaves here +And so enriches you? Where such as serve +The _Polander, Bohemian, Dane_, or _Turck_, +Though they come almost naked to their Collours, +Besides their pay (which they contempne) the spoiles +Of armyes overthrowne, of Citties sackd, +Depopulations of wealthie Cuntries, +If he survive the uncertaine chaunce of war, +Returne him home to end his age in plenty +Of wealth and honours. + +_Bar_. This is shrewdly urgd. + +1 _Cap_. Where we, poore wretches, covetous of fame onely, +Come hether but as to a Schoole of war +To learne to struggle against cold and hunger, +And with unwearied steps to overcome +A tedious march when the hot Lyons breath +Burnes up the feilds; the glory that we ayme at +Being our obedience to such as doe +Commaund in cheif; to keepe our rancks, to fly +More then the death all mutenies and rebellions. +And would you then, whose wisdomes should correct +Such follies in us, rob us of that litle, +That litle honour that rewards our service, +To bring our necks to the Hangmans Sword or Halter, +Or (should we scape) to brand our foreheads with +The name of Rebells? + +_Giles_. I am put to a non plus:-- +Speake mine Here Secretarie. + +_Leid_. I have heard +So much deliverd by you and so well, +Your actions, too, at all parts answearing +What you have spoken, that I must acknowledge +We all stand far indebted to your service: +And therefore, as unto the worthiest, +The faithfullest and strongest that protect +Us and our Cuntries, we now seek to you, +And would not but such men should be remembred +As principall assistants in the Care +Of a disease which now the State lyes sick of. +I know you love the valiant Prince, and yet +You must graunt him a Servant to the States +As you are, Gentlemen, and therefore will not +Defend that in him which you would not cherish +In cold blood in your selves; for should he be +Disloyall-- + +_Leuit_. He disloyall! 'tis a language +I will not heare. + +2 _Cap_. Such a suspition of him +Is one that wore a Sword deserv'd the lye. + +1 _Cap_. We know your oild tongue; and your rethorique +Will hardly work on us that are acquainted +With what faire language your ill purposes +Are ever cloathd, nor ever wilbe won +To undervalue him whose least fam'd service +Scornes to be put in ballance with the best +Of all your Counsailes; and for his faith, O heaven! +It do's as far transcend yours in your praires +As light do's darkness. + +_Leid_. I perceive 'tis true +That such as flatter Servants make them prowd. +Wee'll use a rougher way, and here commaund you +To leave the Towne, and sodainely, if you wish not +To be forced hence. + +1 _Cap_. Your new raisd Companies +Of such as never saw the Enemie +Can hardly make that good: we were placed here +By the allowaunce of the generall States +And of the Prince to keep it to their use. + +_Leuit_. And we will doe it. + +1 _Cap_. And while there is Lead +Upon a house, or any Soldier master +But of a doyt: when that is gon, expect +That we will make you sport, or leave our lives +To witness we were faithfull.--Come, Lieutenant, +Let us draw up the Companies; and then +Charge on us when you please. + [_Exeunt_. + +_Mod_. This I foresaw. + +_Bar_. Oh, I am lost with anger! are we falne +So lowe from what we were, that we dare heare +This from our Servants and not punish it? +Where is the terrour of our names, our powre +That _Spaine_ with feare hath felt in both his _Indies_? +We are lost for ever, and from freemen growne +Slaves so contemptible as no worthie Prince, +That would have men, not sluggish Beasts, his Servants, +Would ere vouchsafe the owning. Now, my frends, +I call not on your furtherance to preserve +The lustre of my actions; let me with them +Be nere remembred, so this government +Your wives, your lives and liberties be safe: +And therefore, as you would be what you are, +Freemen and masters of what yet is yours, +Rise up against this Tirant, and defend +With rigour what too gentle lenitie +Hath almost lost. + +_Leid_. Ile to the new raisd Soldiers +And make them firme. + +_Giles_. Ile muster up the Burgers +And make them stand upon their guard. + +_Mod_. For me +Ile not be wanting. + +_Bar_. Ile back to the _Hage_ +And something there Ile doe that shall divert +The torrent that swells towards us, or sinck in it; +And let this Prince of _Orange_ seat him sure, +Or he shall fall when he is most secure. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +SCAENA 2. + + + _Enter Holderus, Dutch-woemen and an English Gentlew_. + +1 _D. W_. Here come the Sisters: that's an _English_ Gentlewoman, +Let's pray for hir Conversion. + +2 _D. W_. You are wellcom, Lady, +And your comming over hether is most happy; +For here you may behold the generall freedom +We live and traffique in, the ioy of woemen. +No emperious _Spanish_ eye governes our actions, +Nor _Italian_ jealouzie locks up our meetings: +We are ourselves our owne disposers, masters; +And those that you call husbands are our Servants. + +3 _D. W_. Your owne Cuntry breedes ye hansom, maintaines ye brave, +But with a stubborne hand the husbands awe ye: +You speake but what they please, looke where they point ye, +And though ye have some libertie 'tis lymitted. + +4 _D. W_. Which cursse you must shake of. To live is nothing; +To live admird and lookd at,--poore deservings +But to live soe, so free you may commaund, Lady, +Compell, and there raigne Soveraigne. + +1 _D. W_. Do you thinck there's any thing +Our husbands labour for, and not for our ends? +Are we shut out of Counsailes, privacies, +And onely lymitted our household busines? +No, certaine, Lady; we pertake with all, +Or our good men pertake no rest. Why this man +Works theis or theis waies, with or against the State, +We know and give allowaunces. + +_2 D. W_. Why such a Gentleman, +Thus hansom and thus yong, commaunds such a quarter; +Where theis faire Ladies lye; why the _Grave's_ angry +And Mounseiur _Barnavelt_ now discontent,-- +Do you thinck it's fitt we should be ignorant? + +_2 D. W_. Or why there's sprung up now a new devotion? +Good Gentlewoman, no. Do you see this fellow? +He is a Scholler and a parlous Scholler, +Or whether he be a Scholler or no 'tis not a doy't matter: +He's a fine talker and a zealous talker; +We can make him thinck what we list, say what we list, +Print what we list and whom we list abuse in't. + +_Eng.-gentw_. And a Teacher do you say? + +_2 D. W_. A singuler teacher, +For so we hold such here. + +_Eng.-gentw_. Doe they use no modestie +Upon my life, some of theis new _Arminians_, +Theis hissing tosts! + +_Hold_. An ignorant strange woman, +Whose faith is onely tride by a Coach and foure horses. + +_3 D. W_. Come, you must be as we are and the rest of your Countrywomen; +You doe not know the sweet on't. + +_Eng.-gentw_. Indeed, nor will not; +Our Cuntry brings us up to faire Obedience +To know our husbands for our Governours, +So to obey and serve 'em: two heads make monsters; +Nor Dare we thinck of what is don above us, +Nor talk of _Graves_. + +_Hold_. The _Grave_ shall smart for 't shortly; +Goe you and tell him soe, gooddy _English woman_: +You have long tayles and long tongues, but we shall clip 'em. + +_Enter Vandermitten_.[155] + +_I D. W_. How now? what haste? + +_Vand_. The Prince is drawing up to us +And has disarmd all the strong Townes about us +Of our new Soldiers; the _English_ now stand only +And the old Companies. + +_Eng.-gentw_. Now your wisdomes, Ladies, +Your learning also, Sir, your learned prating-- +You that dare prick your eares up at great Princes +And doble charge your tongue with new opinions,-- +What can you doe? or can theis holly woemen +That you have arm'd against obedience +And made contempners of the fooles their husbands, +Examiners of State,--can they doe any thing? +Can they defy the Prince? + +_Hold_. They shall defie him, +And to his face: why doe not ye raise the Burgers +And draw up the new Companies? + + _Enter Leidenberge_?[156] + +_Leid_. Away, good women! +This is no sport for you: goe, cheere your husbands +And bid 'em stand now bravely for their liberties. +_Arnam_ and _Roterdam_ and all about us +Have yeilded him obedience; all the new Companies +Purgd and disarmd. Goe you; talke to the _Arminians_, +And raise their harts. Good Ladies, no more Councells: +This is no time to puppet in. + +1 _D. W_. We are gon, Sir, + +_2 D. W_. And will so coniure up our lazie husbands. + +_Eng.-gentw_. And coniure wisely, too; the devill will faile else. + [_Exeunt Women_. + +_Leid_. What's she? + +_Vand_. An _English_ woman. + +_Leid_. Would they were all shipt well +To th' other part oth' world. Theis stubborne _English_ +We onely feare. + +_Vand_. We are strong enough to curb 'em. + +_Leid_. But we have turnop hearts. + + _Enter a Messenger_. + +Now what's the next newes? + +_Mess_.[157] The Prince is at the Barriers, and desires his entraunce + +_Leid_. He must not enter:--what Company is with him? + +_Mess_. But few, and those unarmd too: about some twentie. + +_Leid_. And what behind? + +_Mess_. We can discover none. + +_Leid_. Let's goe and view: Brothers, be strong and valiant; +We have lost the Towne els and our freedoms with it. + [_Exeunt_. + + + + +SCAENA 3. + + _Enter 1 Captaine[158] and Soldiers_. + +_Sold_. They charge us not to let him in. + +1 _Cap_. We will doe it; +He has our faithes.--What strengthe's upon the Guard? + +_Sold_. Two hundred _English_. + +1 _Cap_. Goe, and give this comaund then: +That if any Burgers or _Arminian_ Soldiers +Offer to come upon the Guard, or let in or out +Any without our knowledge, presently +To bend their strength upon 'em. + +_Sold_. It shalbe don. [_Exit_. + +1 _Cap_. Do you disperse to the old Companies, +Bid 'em be ready; tell 'em now is the time, +And charge 'em keepe a strong eye ore the Burgers. +Ile up to'th Guard. + +_Sold_. Wee'le doe it seriously. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +SCAENA 4. + + + _Enter Prince of Orange, William, + Captaine,[159] Leiutenant, &c_. + +_Or_. None of our frends upon the Portt? Is this the welcom +Of such a Towne, so bound in preservation +To us and ours? + +2 _Cap_. The Prince is sadly angry. + +_Leiut_. Can ye blame him, Captaine, when such a den of dog whelps +Are fosterd here against him? You will rouse anon: +There are old Companies sure, honest and faithfull, +That are not poysond with this ranck infection. +Now they appeare, Sir. + + _Enter Captaine[160] on the walls_. + +1 _Cap_. Will your Grace please to enter? + +_Or_. And thanck ye too. + +1 _Cap_. The Port is open for ye. + +_Or_. You see my number. + +1 _Cap_. But I hope 'tis more, Sir. + +_Or_. Theis must in first; 'Twill breed a good securitie. + +1 _Cap_. We stand all ready for your Grace. + +_Or_. We thanck ye. + +1 _Cap_. What Companies come on, Sir. + +_Or_. Three Troope of horse, +That will be with ye presently: keepe strong the Port. + +1 _Cap_. Enter when please your Grace; we shall stand sure, Sir. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +SCAENA 5. + + + _Enter Leidenberge, Vandermitten,[161] Rock Giles_. + +_Leid_. Is he come in, do you say? + +_Vand_. He is, but followed +So slenderly and poore. + +_Leid_. We are undon then; +He knowes too well what ground he ventures on. +Where are the _Arminian_ Soldiers? + +_R. Giles_. They stand ith' market place. + +_Leid_. Are they well armd? + +_R. Giles_. Ready to entertaine him. + +_Leid_. Who commaunds the Port? + +_Vand_. The _English_. + +_Leid_. Ten towsand devills! +Odd's sacrament! a meere trick to betray us. + +_Vand_. We can discover none behind. + +_Leid_. A trick: +Those _English_ are the men borne to undooe us. + + _Enter Messenger_.[162] + +_Mess_. Arme, arme, and now stand to your ancient freedoms! +Three troope of horse, ten Companies of foote +Are enterd now the Port. + +_Leid_. I told ye, Gentlemen. + +_Mess_. The _English_ make a stand upon the new Companies, +Ready to charge 'em if they stirr. + +_Leid_. Oh mischief! +All our designes are crackt, layed open, ruynd: +Let's looke if any cure remaine. O devill! + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +SCAENA 6. + + + _Enter Duch-woemen and Burgers_. + +_Duch-W_. The Prince, the Prince, the Prince! O our husbands. + +_Burg_. Goe pray, goe pray, goe pray: We shalbe hangd all. + +_Duch-W_. I would it were no worse: + + _Enter Eng.-gentw_. + +_Eng.-gentw_. Now where's your valours, +You that would eat the Prince? + +_Duch-W_. Sweet _English_ Gentlewoman. + +_Eng.-gentw_. Fy, doe not run! for shame! body a me, +How their feare outstincks their garlick! litle Sir _Gregory_, + + _Enter Holderus_.[163] + +Art thou afraid, too? out with thy two edgd tongue +And lay about thee! + +_Hold_. Out o' my way, good woeman, +Out o' my way: I shalbe whipt, and hangd too. + +_Eng.-gentw_. Theis fellowes have strong faithes and notable valours: +Ile walk about and see this sport. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +SCAENA 7. + + + _Enter Orange, Leidenberge, Burgers, Captaines, + Soldiers, and Arminians_. + +_Or_. Now, Mounseuir _Leidenberge_ you may se openly +The issues of your desperate undertakings, +And your good helpes, myne Heeires; now you must feele too, +And to your greifes, what the deserts of those are +That boldly dare attempt their Cuntries ruyn +And who we serve, how faithfully and honestly +You must and shall confes too: not to blind ends +Hood-winckt with base ambition, such as yours are, +But to the generall good.--Let[164] theis new Companies +March by us through the Market, so to the Guard house, +And there disarme;--wee'll teach ye true obedience;-- +Then let 'em quitt the Towne, hansom swag fellowes +And fitt for fowle play. + +_Leiut_. Theis are but heavy marches. + +_Or_. They wilbe lighter straight, when they are unfurnishd +You put your trust in theis; you have tall defences,-- +Treason maintaind with heresie, fitt weapons! +--So now disarme the Towne: wee'll plant new Governours! + +_Leid_. Will your Grace be pleasd to heare? + +_Or_. Yes, at the _Hage_, Sir, +Till when bethinck you of your acts and answeares, +For there before the generall State--Where's _Modesbargen_? + +_Cap_. He left the Towne two daies agoe. + +_Or_. A guilty feare, +But we shall fright him worsse. Good order take +For the Towne, and what fitt Garrison to leave in't. +We are homeward bound, where we shall make you wellcom, +You have instructed us in what free fashion. +Come, Gentlemen, let's now goe take our rest: +Prowd confidence is but a foole at best. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + + +_Actus Tercius_. + +SCAENA PRIMA. + + + _Enter Bredero, Vandort_.[165] + +_Bre_. Myne Heire Vandort, what thinck ye of the Prince now? + +_Vandort_. Like a true noble Gentlemen he has borne himself +And a faire fortunate Soldier: I hold the State, Sir, +Most happie in his care, and this torne Cuntry, +Whose wounds smart yet, most bound to his deliveraunce. + +_Bre_. 'Tis certaine his proceedings in this busines, +As in all els, have byn most wise and constant +And waited on with full wingd Expedition: +How many Townes armd with theis new Pretenders, +Stird up and steeld by founders of new doctrines, +The collour to their Cause, hath he (and sodainely) +Disarmd againe and setled in obedience, +And without bloodshed, Lords, without the Sword +And those Calamities that shake a kingdom: +So gently and without noyse he has performd this +As if he had don it in a dreame. + +_Vand_. Most certaine, +He has run through a busines will much add to him +And set his vertues of with greater Lustre: +But that a man so wise as Mounseiur _Barnavelt_, +So trusted, so rewarded for his Service, +And one that built the ladder to his honour +Of open, honest actions, strong and straight still, +Should now be doubted! + +_Bred_. I know not nor I wish it not, +But if he have a fowle hart't has byn hid long, +And cunningly that poyson has byn carried. + +_Vand_. But why a father to theis new professions? +Why should he strengthen those opinions +That all true learning much laments and greives at +And sincks the soules sweet union into ruyn? +Why theis, my lords? and why in every Garrison, +Unles he had an end that shot at evill, +Should he so strongly plant theis fire-brands +And through his powre add daylie to their nombers? + +_Bred_. Most sure he is suspected, strongly suspected +But that a man of his great trust and busines +Should sinck or suffer under doubts or whispers +Or loose his honour by an others envy, +Is not faire play nor honest. The Prince of _Orange_, +Most thinck, affects him not, nor he the Prince. +That either of their angry wills should prove +A lawful act to ruyn one another, +And not a medium of more open Justice, +More equall and more honorable, step in, +Man had no powre to stand nor fall with honour. +If he be falce, honest and upright proofes +Will ripen the Imposture. + + _Enter Barnavelt and his Son_. + +[1 _Lord_.[166] Here he comes, sir.] + +_Vand_. Methincks he beares not in his Countenaunce +The fulnes of that grave and constant sperit, +Nor in his eye appeeres that heat and quicknes +He was wont to move withall.--Salute, and counsell: +Let's leave him to his thoughts. + +_Son_. They mind ye not: +Now, as I have a soule, they looke not on ye. + +_Bar_. My noble Lords, what is't appeeres upon me +So ougly strange you start and fly my Companie? +What plague sore have ye spide, what taynt in honour, +What ill howre in my life so cleere deserving +That rancks in this below your fellowships? +For which of all my cares, of all my watches, +My services (too many and too mightie +To find rewards) am I thus recompenced, +Not lookd on, not saluted, left forgotten +Like one that came to petition to your honours,-- +Over the shoulder sleighted? + +_Bred_. Mounseiur _Barnavelt_, +I am sorry that a man of your great wisdom +And those rare parts that make ye lov'd and honourd, +In every Princes Court highly esteemd of, +Should loose so much in point of good and vertue +Now in the time you ought to fix your faith fast, +The creadit of your age, carelessly loose it,-- +I dare not say, ambitiously--that your best frends, +And those that ever thought on your example, +Dare not with comon safetie now salute ye. + +_Bar_. I loose in point of honour! My frends feare me! +My age suspected too! now as ye are iust men +Unknit this riddle. + +1 _Lord_. You are doubted, strongly doubted. + +_Bar_. O the devill. + +2 _Lord_. Your loialtie suspected. + +_Bar_. Who dare doe this? + +_Bred_. We wish all well; and you that know how dangerous +In men of lesser mark theis foule attempts are +And often have bewaild 'em in the meanest, +I make no doubt will meet your owne fault sodainely +And chide yourself; grow faire againe and flourish +In the same full esteeme ye held and favour. + +_Bar_. And must I heare this sett downe for all my service? +Is this the glorious mark of my deservings? +Taynted and torne in honour must I perish, +And must theis silver curles, o you unthanckfull, +Theis emblemes of my frostie cares and travells +For you and for the State, fall with disgraces? +Goe, fall before your new Prince! worship him, +Fill all your throates with flattery, cry before him +'Tis he, and onely he, has truly serv'd ye! +Forget me and the peace I have wrought your Cuntry; +Bury my memory, raze out my name, +My forty yeares endeavoures write in dust +That your great Prince may blow 'em into nothing; +And on my Monument (you most forgetfull) +Fling all your scornes, erect an yroon-toothed envy +That she may gnaw the pious stones that hides me. + +_Vand_. Ye are too much mov'd, and now too late ye find, Sir, +How naked and unsafe it is for a long Gowne +To buckle with the violence of an Army. +The Emperour _Traian_ challenging a yong man +And a swift runner to try his speed against him, +The Gentleman made answeare sodainely +It was not safe nor fitt to hold contention +With any man commaunded thirtie legions. +You know the Prince and know his noble nature, +I thinck you know his powre, too: of all your wisdomes +This will not show the least nor prove the meanest +In good mens eyes, I thinck, in all that know ye, +To seeke his love: gentle and faire demeanours +Wyn more then blowes and soften stubborne angers. +Let me perswade ye. + +_Bar_. When I am a Sycophant +And a base gleaner from an others favour, +As all you are that halt upon his crutches. +Shame take that smoothnes and that sleeke subjection! +I am myself, as great in good as he is, +As much a master of my Cuntries fortunes, +And one to whom (since I am forcd to speak it, +Since mine owne tongue must be my Advocate) +This blinded State that plaies at boa-peep with us, +This wanton State that's weary of hir lovers +And cryes out "Give me younger still and fresher!" +Is bound and so far bound: I found hir naked, +Floung out a dores and starvd, no frends to pitty hir, +The marks of all her miseries upon hir, +An orphan State that no eye smild upon: +And then how carefully I undertooke hir, +How tenderly and lovingly I noursd hir! +But now she is fatt and faire againe and I foold, +A new love in hir armes, my doatings scornd at. +And I must sue to him! be witnes, heaven, +If this poore life were forfeyt to his mercy, +At such a rate I hold a scornd subiection +I would not give a penney to redeeme it. +I have liv'd ever free, onely depended +Upon the honestie of my faire Actions, +Nor am I now to studdy how to die soe. + +_Bred_. Take better thoughts. + +_Bar_. They are my first and last, +The legacie I leave my friends behind me. +I never knew to flatter, to kneele basely +And beg from him a smile owes me an honour. +Ye are wreatches, poore starv'd wreatches fedd on crumbs +That he flings to ye: from your owne aboundaunce +Wreatched and slavish people ye are becom +That feele the griping yoak and yet bow to it. +What is this man, this Prince, this God ye make now, +But what our hands have molded, wrought to fashion, +And by our constant labours given a life to? +And must we fall before him now, adoare him, +Blow all we can to fill his sailes with greatnes? +Worship the Image we set up ourselves? +Put fate into his hand? into his will +Our lives and fortunes? howle and crye to our owne clay +"Be mercifull, o Prince?" o, pittied people! +Base, base, poore patch men! You dare not heare this; +You have sold your eares to slavery; begon and flatter. +When ere your politick Prince putts his hooke into my nose +Here must he put his Sword too. + +_Bred_. We lament ye. + + [_Exeunt_. + + _Enter the Son_. + +_Son_. We are undon, Sir. + +_Bar_. Why? + +_Son_. For certaine perishd. +_Utrecht_ is taken in, _Modesbargen_ fled, +And _Leidenberge_ a Servant to their pleasures,-- +A prisoner, Sir. + +_Bar_. Ha! + +_Son_. 'Tis too true. + +_Bar_. A prisoner? + +_Son_. And, some say, has byn tortured, reveald much, +Even all he knowes. No letters are against ye, +For those he burnt; but they have so much foold him +That his owne tongue-- + +_Bar_. He cannot be so boyish. + +_Son_. My goverment of _Barghen_ is disposd of; +Their anger now against us all profest, +And in your ruyn all must fall. + +_Bar_. A prisoner! +_Modesbargen_ fledd! I am glad he is scapt their fingers. +Now if the devill had but this _Leidenberge_ +I were safe enough. What a dull foole was I, +A stupid foole, to wrap up such a secreat +In a sheepes hart! o I could teare my flesh now +And beat my leaden braines! + +_Son_. Faith, try the Prince, Sir; +You are at your last. + +_Bar_. Art thou my Son? thou lyest; +I never got a Parasite, a Coward. +I seeke the Prince or bend in base submission! +Ile seeke my grave first. Yf I needes must fall +And that the fatall howre is cast of _Barnavelt_, +Just like a strong demolishd Tower ile totter +And fright the neighbour Cuntries with my murmour. +My ruyns shall reach all: the valiant Soldier, +Whose eies are unacquainted but with anger, +Shall weep for me because I fedd and noursd him; +Princes shall mourne my losse, and this unthanckfull, +Forgetful Cuntry, when I sleepe in ashes, +Shall feele and then confes I was a father. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +SCAENA 2. + + + _Enter P. of Orange, William, Bredero, Vandort, + Lords, Collonells, Captaines_. + +_Bred_. Will your Excellence please to sitt? + + [_Table: Bell_. + +_Or_. I am prowd your Lordships +So willingly restore me to that place +From which the envy of the Advocate +Of late hath forcd me. And that you may know, +How ere his mallice live to me, all hatred +Is dead in me to him, I am a Suitour +He may be sent for; for, as _Barnavelt_ is +A member of this body politique, +I honour him, and will not scorne to yeild +A strict accompt of all my Actions to him; +And, though my Enemie, while he continues +A frend to his owne fame and loyall to[167] +The State, I love him and shall greive that he, +When he falls from it must deserve my pitty. + +_Vand_. This disposition in your Excellence +Do's well becom you, but would wrong our iudgements +To call one as a partner to these counsailes +That is suspected, and ev'n then when all +His dark designes and deepest purposes +Are to be sifted. + +_Bred_. It were most unfit, +And therefore we entreat your Highnes to[167] +Presse it no further. + +_Or_. My good lords, your pardon; +You are your owne disposers.--Gentlemen, +I shall a while entreat ye to forbeare +The troble that you put upon yourselves +In following me. I can need no defence here, +Being left among these whose grave counsailes ever +Have lookd out for my safetie. 'Tis your pleasure +And therefore I embrace it. + + [_Exeunt Collonells & Captaines_. + +_Vand_. Now, when you please, +Your Excellence may deliver what you have +Observ'd concerning the _Arminian_ faction, +What hopes and heads it had, for without question +It found more favorers, and great ones too, +Then yet we have discoverd. + +_Or_. My grave Lords, +That it hath byn my happines to take in, +And with so litle blood, so many Townes +That were falne of, is a large recompence +For all my travell; and I would advise +That (since[168] all now sing the sweet tunes of Concord, +No Sword unsheathd, the meanes to hurt cut off, +And all their stings pluckd out that would have used them +Against the publique peace) we should end here +And not with labour search for that which will +Afflict us when 'tis found. Something I know +That I could wish I nere had understood, +Which yet if I should speake, as the respect +And duty that I owe my Cuntry binds me, +It wilbe thought 'tis rather privat spleene +Then pious zeale. But that is not the hazard +Which I would shun: I rather feare the men +We must offend in this, being great, rich, wise, +Sided with strong frends, trusted with the guard +Of places most important, will bring forth +Rather new births of tumult, should they be +Calld to their Triall, then appease disorder +In their iust punishment; and in doing Justice +On three or foure that are delinquents, loose +So many thousand inocents that stand firme +And faithfull patriots. Let us leave them therefore +To the scourge of their owne consciences: perhaps +Th'assurance that they are yet undiscoverd, +Because not cyted to their answeare, will +So work with them hereafter to doe well +That we shall ioy we sought no farther in it. + +_Vand_. Such mild proceedings in a Goverment +New setled, whose maine strength had it's dependaunce +Upon the powre of some perticuler men, +Might be given way to, but in ours it were +Unsafe and scandalous: then the _Provinces_ +Have lost their liberties, Justice hir Sword, +And we prepared a way for our owne ruyn +When for respect or favour unto any, +Of what condition soever, we +Palliat seditions and forbeare to call +Treason by hir owne name. + +1 _Lord_. It must not be: +Such mercie to ourselves were tirranie. + +2 _Lord_. Nor are we to consider who they are +That have offended, but what's the offence +And how it should be punishd, to deter +Others by the example. + +_Bred_. Which we will doe; +And using that united powre which warrants +All we thinck fitt, we doe intreat your Highnes +(For willingly we would not say comaund you), +As you affect the safetie of the State +Or to preserve your owne deserved honours +And never-tainted loyaltie, to make knowne +All such as are suspected. + +_Or_. I obey you; +And though I cannot give up certaine proofes +To point out the delinquents, I will name +The men the generall voice proclaimes for guiltie. +_Modesbargens_ flight assures him one, nor is +The pentionary of _Roterdam_[169] _Grotius_, +Free from suspition: from _Utrecht_ I have brought +The Secretarie _Leidenberge_, who hath +Confest alredy something that will give us +Light to find out the rest. I would end here +And leave out _Barnavelt_. + +_Bred_. If he be guiltie +He's to be nam'd and punishd with the rest. + +_Vand_. Upon good evidence, but not till then +To be committed. + +_Will_. 'Twer expedient +That something should be practisd to bring in +_Modesbargen_. Out of him the truth of all +May be wroong out. + +_Bred_. The advice is sound and good. + +_Vand_. But with much difficultie to be performd; +For how to force him out of _Germanie_ +(Whether they say hee's fledd) without a war, +At least the breaking of that league we have +Concluded with them, I ingeniously +Confes my ignoraunce. + +_Or_. Since you approve it, +Leave that to me. + + _Enter Officer_[170] + +_Off_. My lord. + +_Or_. Call in the Captaine +You saw me speake with at the dore. + +_Off_. 'Tis don. [_Exit_. + +_Bred_. What does your Excellence ayme at? + +_Or_. Have but patience, +You shall know sodainely. + + _Enter Captaine_.[171] + +_Cap_. My good Angell keepe me +And turne it to the best.--What am I sent for? + +_Or_. You are wellcom, Captaine; nay 'tis for your good +That you are calld for. You are well acquainted +With all the parts of _Germanie_? + +_Cap_. I have livd there. +Most of my time. + +_Or_. But doe you know the Castle +Belonging to _Modesbargens_ Aunt or Cosen,-- +Which 'tis I know not? + +_Cap_. Very well, my Lord; +A pleasant Cuntry 'tis, and yeilds good hunting. + +_Bred_. And that's a sport _Modesbargen_ from his youth +Was much inclind to. + +_Or_. Wee'll make use of it. +It is of waight that you must undertake, +And does require your secrecie and care. + +_Cap_. In both I wilbe faithfull. + +_Or_. I beleeve you; +And, to confirme it, with all possible speed +I would have you to post thether: from the Borders +Make choice of any horsemen you thinck fitt, +And, when you come there, devide them into parties +And lodge neere to the Castle. Yf _Modesbargen_ +Come forth to hunt, or if at any time +You find the draw-bridge up, break in upon him +And willing or unwilling force him hether. +You shall have gold to furnish you, and this don +Propose your owne rewards, they shalbe graunted. + +_Cap_. Yf I be wanting let my head pay for it; +Ile instantly about it. [_Exit_. + +_Or_. Doe, and prosper. + +_Will_. What will you do with _Leidenberge_? + +_Bred_. Let him be +Kept safe a while: for _Barnavelt_, till we have +Some certaine proofes against him, I hold fitt +He have his libertie, but be suspended +From any place or voice in Court untill +His guilt or inocence appeere. + +_Vand_. I like it. + +_Lords_. We are all of your opinion. + +_Or_. Bring in _Leidenberch_. + + _Enter Leidenberch, Boy, Guard_. + +_Boy_. Doe all theis, father, wayt on you? + +_Leid_. Yes, Boy. + +_Boy_. Indeed I doe not like their Countenaunces; +They looke as if they meant you litle good. +Pray you, put them away. + +_Leid_. Alas, poore inocent, +It is for thee I suffer; for my self +I have set up my rest. + +_Or_. Now, Mounseiur _Leidenberch_, +We send not for you, though your fault deserve it, +To load you with reproofe, but to advise you +To make use of the way we have found out +To save your life and honour. You already, +In free confession of your fault, have made +A part of satisfaction; goe on in it, +And you shall find a faire discovery +Of youre fowle purposes and th'agents in 'em +Will wyn more favour from theyr lordships to you +Then any obstinate deniall can doe. + +_Leid_. All that I know I will deliver to you, +And beyond that your Excellence nor their Lordships +Will not, I hope, perswade me. + +_Vand_. In the meane time +You are a prisoner. + +_Boy_. Who? my father? + +_Bred_. Yes, Boy. + +_Boy_. Then I will be a prisoner, too. For heaven sake +Let me goe with him, for theis naughtie men +Will nere wayt on him well. I am usd to undresse him +When he's to goe to bed, and then read to him +Untill he be a sleepe, and then pray by him: +I will not leave him. + +_Bred_. Why, thou shalt not, Boy. +Goe with thy father. + +_Boy_. You are a good Lord, +Indeed I love you for't and will pray for you. +Come, father; now I must goe too, I care not. +While I am with you, you shall have no hurt, +Ile be your warrant. + +_Leid_. I have lost myself, +But something I shall doe. + + [_Exeunt Leid., Boy, Guard_. + +_Or_. 'Tis time to rise; +And, if your Lordshipps please, we will defer +Our other busines to an other sitting. + +_Vand_. In the meane time wee'll use all honest meanes +To sound the depth of this Confederacie, +In which Heaven's hand direct us and assist us. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +SCAENA 3. + + + _Enter 2 Captaines_.[172] + +1 _Cap_. This is a strange cutting time. + +2 _Cap_. Let 'em cutt deep enough, +They will doe no great cure els. I wonder strangely +They carry such a gentle hand on _Leidenberch_ +That any frends come to him. + +1 _Cap_. 'Has confest much, +Beleeve it, and so far they feare him not, +They would be els more circumspect. + +2 _Cap_. Pray ye, tell me, +Is there no further newes of those are fledd,-- +I meane those fellow Instruments? + +1 _Cap_. None as yet,-- +At least divulgd abroad. But certenly +The wise States are not idle, neither at this time +Do's it concerne their safeties. We shall heare shortly +More of theis monsters. + +2 _Cap_. Let's to dynner, Sir; +There we shall heare more newes. + +1 _Cap_. Ile beare ye companie. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +SCAENA 4. + + + _Enter Barnavelt & Provost_. + +_Bar_. And how doth he take his imprisonment, _Mr. Provost_? + +_Pro_. A litle discontent, and't please your Lordship, +And sad as men confind. + +_Bar_. He does not talke much? + +_Pro_. Litle or nothing, Sir. + +_Bar_. Nor wrighte? + +_Pro_. Not any thing, +Yet I have charge to give him those free uses. + +_Bar_. Doe you keep him close? + +_Pro_. Not so close, and't like your Lordship, +But you may see and speake with him. + +_Bar_. I thanck ye. + +_Pro_. Pray ye give me leave; Ile send him to your Honour. + [_Exit_. + +_Bar_. Now, _Barnavelt_, thou treadst the subtlest path, +The hardest and the thorniest, most concernes thee, +That ere thy carefull course of life run through: +The Master peece is now a foot, which if it speed +And take but that sure hold I ayme it at, +I make no doubt but once more, like a Comet, +To shine out faire and blaze prodigiously +Even to the ruyn of those men that hate me. + + _Enter Leidenberch_. + +--I am sorry for your fortune. + +_Leid_. 'Tis a sad one +And full of burthen, but I must learne to beare it. +How stands your State? + +_Bar_. Upon a ball of yce +That I can neither fix, nor fall with safetie. + +_Leid_. The heavie hand of heaven is now upon us +And we exposd, like bruizd and totterd vessells, +To merciles and cruell Seas to sinck us. + +_Bar_. Our Indiscreations are our evill fortunes, +And nothing sincks us but [our] want of providence. +O you delt coldly, Sir, and too too poorely, +Not like a man fitt to stem tides of dangers, +When you gave way to the Prince to enter _Utrecht_. +There was a blow, a full blow at our fortunes; +And that great indiscreation, that mayne blindnes, +In not providing such a constant Captaine, +One of our owne, to commaund the watch, but suffer +The haughtie _English_ to be masters of it,-- +This was not well nor fitting such a wisdom, +Not provident. + +_Leid_. I must confes my errour; +The beastly coldnes of the drowsy Burgers +Put me past all my aymes. + +_Bar_. O, they are sweet Jewells! +He that would put his confidence in Turnops[173] +And pickled Spratts--Come, yet resume your Courage, +Pluck up that leaden hart and looke upon mee; +_Modesbargen's_ fledd, and what we lockt in him +Too far of from their subtle keys to open, +Yf we stand constant now to one another +And in our soules be true. + +_Leid_. That comes too late, Sir, +Too late to be redeemd: as I am unfortunate +In all that's gone before, in this-- + +_Bar_. What? + +_Leid_. O, +In this, this last and greatest-- + +_Bar_. Speake. + +_Leid_. Most miserable. +I have confessd. Now let your eies shoot through me +And if there be a killing anger sinck me. + +_Bar_. Confessd! + +_Leid_. 'Tis done: this traitor tongue has don it, +This coward tongue. + +_Bar_. Confessd! + +_Leid_. He lookes me blind now. + +_Bar_. How I could cursee thee, foole, despise thee, spurne thee, +But thou art a thing not worthie of mine anger. +A frend! a dog: a whore had byn more secreat, +A common whore a closer Cabinet. +Confest! upon what safety, thou trembling aspyn, +Upon what hope? Is there ought left to buoy us +But our owne confidence? What frends now follow us, +That have the powre to strike of theis misfortunes, +But our owne constant harts? Where were my eies, +My understanding, when I tooke unto me +A fellow of thy falce hart for a frend? +Thy melting mind! foold with a few faire words +Suffer those secreats that concerne thy life, +In the Revealer not to be forgiven too, +To be pluckt from thy childes hart with a promise, +A nod, a smile! thyself and all thy fortunes +Through thy base feare made subject to example! +Nor will the shott stay there, but with full violence +Run through the rancke of frends, disperse and totter +The best and fairest hopes thy fame was built on. + +_Leid_. What have I done, how am I foold and cozend! +What shall redeeme me from this Ignoraunce! + +_Bar_. Not any thing thou aymst at, thou art lost: +A most unpittied way thou falst. + +_Leid_. Not one hope +To bring me of? nothing reservd to cleere me +From this cold Ignoraunce? + +_Bar_. But one way left, +But that thy base feare dares not let thee look on; +And that way will I take, though it seeme steepe +And every step stuck with affrights and horrours, +Yet on the end hangs smyling peace and honour, +And I will on. + +_Leid_. Propound and take[174] me with ye. + +_Bar_. Dye uncompelld, and mock their preparations, +Their envyes and their Justice. + +_Leid_. Dye? + +_Bar_. Dye willingly, +Dye sodainely and bravely: So will I: +Then let 'em sift our Actions from our ashes. +I looke to-morrow to be drawne before 'em; +And doe you thinck, I, that have satt a Judge +And drawne the thred of life to what length I pleasd, +Will now appeare a Prisoner in the same place? +Tarry for such an ebb? No, _Leidenberch_: +The narrowest dore of death I would work through first +Ere I turne Slave to stick their gawdy triumphes. + +_Leid_. Dye, did you say? dye wilfully? + +_Bar_. Dye any way, +Dye in a dreame: he that first gave us honours +Allowes us also safe waies to preserve 'em, +To scape the hands of infamy and tirrany. +We may be our owne Justice: he that loses +His Creadit (deere as life) through doubt or faintness +Is guilty of a doble death, his name dies; +He is onely pious that preserves his heire +His honour when he's dead. + +_Leid_. 'Tis no great paine. + +_Bar_. 'Tis nothing: +Imagination onely makes it monstrous. +When we are sick we endure a hundred fitts, +This is but one; a hundred waies of torture, +And cry and howle, weary of all about us, +Our frends, allyes, our children teadious to us, +Even our best health is but still sufferaunce. +One blow, one short peece of an howre dos this, +And this cures all; maintaines no more phisitians, +Restores our memories, and there's the great cure, +Where, if we stay the fatall Sword of Justice, +It moawes the man downe first, and next his fashion, +His living name, his creadit. + +_Leid_. Give me your hand, Sir; +You have put me in a path I will tread strongly; +Redeeme what I have lost, and that so nobely +The world shall yet confes at least I lovd ye. +How much I smile at now theis peoples mallice! +Dispise their subtle ends, laugh at their Justice! +And what a mightie Prince a constant man is! +How he can set his mind aloft, and looke at +The bussings and the busines of the spightfull, +And crosse when ere he please all their close weavings. +Farwell, my last farwell. + +_Bar_. A long farwell, Sir. + +_Leid_. Our bodies are the earthes, that's their dyvorsse: +But our immortall names shall twyn togeather. + +_Bar_. Thus tread we backward to our graves;--but faint not. + +_Leid_. Fooles onely fly their peace: thus I pursue it. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +SCAENA 5. + + + _Enter Grotius & Hogerbeets_. + +_Gro_. They have arrested him, _Hogerbeets_? + +_Hog_. Yes; +That you all know, _Grotius_, they did at _Utrich_, +But since they have with more severitie +And scorne of us proceeded. Monsieur _Barnavelt_ +Walkes with a thousand eies and guards upon him, +And has at best a painted libertie; +Th'Appollogie he wroat so poorely raild at, +(For answeard at no part a man can call it) +And all his life and Actions so detracted, +That he, as I am certenly informed, +Lookes every howre for worsse. + +_Gro_. Come, come, they dare not, +Or if they should I will not suffer it; +I that have without dread ever maintaind +The freedom I was borne to, against all +That ever have provoakd me, will not feare +What this old Grave or the new Prince of _Orange_ +Dare undertake beyond this, but will rise up +And if he lay his hands on _Barnavelt_, +His Court, our Guift, and where the generall States +Our equalls sit ile fry[175] about their eares +And quench it in their blood. What now I speake +Againe ile speake alowd; let who will tell it, +I never will fly from it. + +_Hog_. What you purpose +I will not fly from. + +_Gro_. Back you then to _Leyden_, +Ile keep at _Roterdam_: there if he fetch me +Ile nere repent whatever can fall on me. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +SCAENA 6. + + + _Enter Leidenberch & Boy_. + +_Boy_. Shall I help you to bed, Sir, + [_Taper, pen & inke: Table_. + +_Leid_. No, my Boy, not yet. + +_Boy_. 'Tis late and I grow sleepie. + +_Leid_. Goe to bed then, +For I must wryte, my Childe. + +_Boy_. I had rather watch, Sir, +If you sitt up, for I know you will wake me. + +_Leid_. Indeed I will not; goe, I have much to doe; +Prethee to bed; I will not waken thee. + +_Boy_. Pray, Sir, leave wryting till to morrow. + +_Leid_. Why, Boy? + +_Boy_. You slept but ill last night, and talkd in your sleep, too; +Tumbled and tooke no rest. + +_Leid_. I ever doe soe. +Good Boy, to bed; my busines is of waight +And must not be deferrd: good night, sweet Boy. + +_Boy_. My father was not wont to be so kind +To hug me and to kisse me soe. + +_Leid_. Why do'st thou weep? + +_Boy_. I cannot tell, but sure a tendernes, +Whether it be with your kind words unto me +Or what it is, has crept about my hart, Sir, +And such a sodaine heavynes withall, too. + +_Leid_.--Thou bringst fitt mourners for my funerall. + +_Boy_. But why do you weep, father? + +_Leid_. O, my Boy, +Thy teares are dew-drops, sweet as those on roses, +But mine the faint and yron sweatt of sorrow. +Prethee, sweet Child, to bed; good rest dwell with thee, +And heaven returne a blessing: that's my good Boy. [_Exit boy_. +--How nature rises now and turnes me woman +When most I should be man! Sweet hart, farewell, +Farewell for ever. When we get us children +We then doe give our freedoms up to fortune +And loose that native courage we are borne to. +To dye were nothing,--simply to leave the light; +No more then going to our beds and sleeping; +But to leave all these dearnesses behind us, +These figures of our selves that we call blessings, +Is that which trobles. Can man beget a thing +That shalbe deerer then himself unto him? +--Tush, _Leidenberch_: thinck what thou art to doe; +Not to play _Niobe_ weeping ore her Children, +Unles that _Barnavelt_ appeere againe +And chide thy dull-cold nature.--He is fast: [_Son abed_. +Sleepe on, sweet Child, the whilst thy wreatched father +Prepares him to the yron sleepe of death. +Or is death fabled out but terrable +To fright us from it? or rather is there not +Some hid _Hesperides_, some blessed fruites +Moated about with death. Thou soule of _Cato_, +And you brave _Romaine_ speritts, famous more +For your true resolutions on yourselves +Then Conquest of the world, behold, and see me +An old man and a gowne man, with as much hast +And gladnes entertaine this steele that meetes me +As ever longing lover did his mistris. +--So, so; yet further; soe. + +_Boy within_. Oh! + +_Leid_. Sure the Boy wakes +And I shalbe prevented. + +_Boy_. Now heaven blesse me. +O me, O me! + +_Leid_. He dreames and starts with frightings. +I bleed apace but cannot fall: tis here; +This will make wider roome. Sleep, gentle Child, +And do not looke upon thy bloody father, +Nor more remember him then fitts thy fortune. +--Now shoot your spightes, now clap on all your councells; +Here is a constant frend will not betray me. +I, now I faint; mine eies begin to hunt +For that they have lost for ever, this worldes beutie-- +O oh, o oh! my long sleepe now has ceizd me. + + _Enter Boy_. + +_Boy_. I heard him groane and cry; I heard him fall sure. +O, there he lyes in his owne blood! o father, +O my deare father, dead and bequeathd no blessing! +Why did I goe to bed, why was I heavy? +O, I will never sleep againe. The house there! +You that are verteous rise! you that have fathers! +Ho, Master _Provost_! o my deerest father. +Some Surgeons, Surgeons! + + _Enter Provost & Servts_. + +_Prov_. 'Twas the Boyes voice, certaine. + +_Ser_. What bloody sight is this? 'has killd himself: +Dead, stone-cold dead; he needs no art of Surgeons. + +_Prov_. Take of the Boy. + +_Boy_. O let me dwell here ever. + +_Prov_. This was a fatall stroak, to me a heavy, +For my remissnes wilbe loaden with it. +Bring in the Boy; ile to the State instantly; +Examine all the wounds and keep the knives; +The Boy fast too,--may be he knowes some circumstance. + +_Boy_. O that I never knew againe. + +_Prov_. In with it. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + + +Actus Quartus. + +SCAENA PRIMA. + + + _Enter Captaine[176] and Soldiers_. + +_Cap_. Are the Horses left where I appointed 'em, +And all the Soldiers ready? + +_Sold_. They are all, Captaine. + +_Cap_. 'Tis well: _Modesbargen_ is abroad, for certaine, +Hunting this morning. + +_Sold_. Tis most likely, Sir; +For round about the Castle, since the dawning, +We have heard the merry noyse of hornes. + +_Cap_. Dispeirce then, +Except some three or foure to watch the Castle +Least he break in againe. What Company +Have ye discoverd that attends him? + +_Sold_. Few, Sir: +I do not thinck he has five within the fort now +Able to make resistaunce. + +_Cap_. Let 'em be twenty +We are strong enough to fright 'em; and by all meanes +Let those that stay seek by some trick or other +To make the Bridge good, that they draw it not +If he returne upon us. + +_Sold_. With all care, Sir. + [_Exeunt.--Hornes_. + + _Enter Modes-bargen & Huntsmen_[177]. + +_Mod_. The doggs have hunted well this dewy morning, +And made a merry cry. + +1 _Hunt_. The Hare was rotten[178]; +You should have heard els such a rore, and seene 'em +Make all hir dobles out with such neat hunting +And run at such a merry rate togeather, +They should have dapled ore your bay with fome, Sir. + +_Mod_. 'Tis very well, and so well I affect it +That I could wish I had nere hunted after +Any delight but this, nor sought more honour. +This is securely safe, drawes on no danger, +Nor is this Chace crost with malignant envy. +How sweatly do I live and laugh upon +The perrills I have past, the plotts and traynes! +And now (methincks) I dare securely looke on +The steepe and desprat follyes my indiscretion +Like a blind careles foole had allmost cast me on. +Here I stand saffe 'gainst all their strengths and Stratagems: +I was a boy, a foole to follow _Barnavelt_, +To step into his attempts, to wedd my freedom +To his most dangerous faction, a meere Coxcomb; +But I have scapd their clawes.--Have ye found more game? + + _Enter 2 Huntesmen_[179]. + +2 _Hunt_. Beating about to find a new Hare, we discoverd-- + +_Mod_. Discoverd what? + +2 _Hunt_. Horsemen, and't please ye, Sir, +Scowt round about us, and which way still the doggs went +They made up within view. + +_Mod_. Look't they like Soldiers? + +2 _Hunt_. For certaine they are Soldiers; for if theis are eyes +I saw their pistolls. + +_Mod_. Many? + +2 _Hunt_. Some half a score, Sir. + +_Mod_. I am betraide: away and raise the Boores up, +Bid 'em deale manfully. + +1 _Hunt_. Take a close way home +And clap your spurres on roundly. + +_Mod_. No place safe for me! +This Prince has long armes, and his kindled anger +A thousand eyes--Make hast and raise the Cuntry. + + [_Exeunt_. + + _Enter Captn & Soldiers_. + +_Cap_. This was a narrow scape; he was ith' feild, sure. + +_Sold_. Yes, that was certaine he that ridd of by us, +When we stood close ith' brakes. + +_Cap_. A devill take it! +How are we cozend! pox of our goodly providence! +If he get home or if the Cuntry know it! + +_Sold_. Make haste, he is yet unmand: we may come time enough +To enter with him. Besides there's this advantage: +They that are left behind, instead of helping +A Boores Cart ore the Bridge, loden with hay, +Have crackt the ax-tree with a trick, and there it stands +And choakes the Bridge from drawing. + +_Cap_. There's some hope yet. +Away and clap on spurs: he shall scape hardly +If none of us salute him. Mounte, mounte. + + [_Exeunt_. + + _Enter Modesbargen & Huntesmen_. + +_Mod_. Hell take this hay! 'tis set on purpose here: +Fire it and draw the Bridge: clap faggotts on't +And fire the Cart and all. No Boores come in yet? +Where be your Musketts, Slaves? + +_Hunt_. We have no powder, Sir. + +_Mod_. You have sold me, Rogues, betrayd me: fire the Cart, I say, +Or heave it into th' Moat. + +_Hunt_. We have not men enough. +Will ye goe in? the Cuntry will rise presently, +And then you shall see, Sir, how wee'll buckle with 'em. + +_Mod_. I see I am undon: the[180] hay choakes all, +I cannot get beside it. + + _Enter Captaine & Soldiers_. + +_Cap_. Stir not a foote, +For he that do's has mett his preist.--Goe, ceize his body, +But hurt him not. You must along with us, Sir: +We have an easie nag will swym away with ye,-- +You ghesse the cause, I am sure. When you are ith' saddle once, +Let your Boores loose; we'll show 'em such a baste. +Do not deiect yourself nor rayle at fortune; +They are no helpes: thincke what you have to answeare. + +_Mod_. Captaine, within this Castle in ready coyne +I have a thousand ducketts: doe me one curtesie, +It shalbe brought out presently. + +_Cap_. What is it? +For I have use of money. + +_Mod_. Doe but shoot me, +Clap both your Pistolls into me. + +_Cap_. No, I thanck ye, +I know a trick worth ten o'that: ile love ye +And bring ye to those men that love to see ye. +Away, away; and keepe your pistolls spand still: +We may be forced. + +_Mod_. I am undon for ever. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +SCAENA 2. + + + _Enter Orange, Bredero, Vandort_. + +_Bred_. Is't possible he should be so far tempted[181] +To kill himself? + +_Vand_. 'Has don it and most desperately, +Nor could strong nature stay his hand,--his owne Child +That slept beside him: which showes him guilty, lords, +More then we suspected. + +_Or_. 'Tis to be feard soe +And therefore, howsoere I movd your lordships +To a mild and sweet proceeding in this busines, +That nothing might be construde in't malitious +And make the world believe our owne ends wrought it, +Now it concernes ye to put on more strictnes +And with seveerer eyes to looke into it: +Ye robb yourselves of your owne rightes els, Justice, +And loose those pious names your Cuntries safeties. +And sodainely this must be don and constantly: +The powrs ye hold els wilbe scornd & laughd at, +And theis unchristian stroakes be laid to your charge. + +_Bred_. Your Grace goes right; but with what generall safetie +(For ther's the mayne point), if we proceed seveerely +May this be don? We all know how much followed +And with what swarmes of love this Mounsieur _Barnavelt_ +Is courted all the Cuntry over. Besides, at _Leyden_ +We heare how _Hogerbeets_ behaves himself, +And how he stirrs the peoples harts against us. +And _Grotius_ has byn heard to say, and openly, +(A man of no meane mark nor to be slighted) +That if we durst imprison _Barnavelt_ +He would fire the Court and State-house, and that Sacrifize +He would make more glorious with your blood and ours, Sir. + +_Vand_. All angers are not armd; the lowdest Channell +Runs shallowest, and there betrayes his weaknes: +The deep & silent man threatens the danger. + +_Or_. If they had equall powre to man their wills +And hope, to fling their miseries upon us, +I that nere feard an Army in the feild, +A body of most choice and excellent Soldiers +And led by Captaines honourd for experience: +Can I feare them or shake at their poore whispers? +I that have broke the beds of Mutenies +And bowde againe to faire obedience +Those stubborne necks that burst the raynes of order, +Shall I shrinck now and fall, shot with a rumour? +No, my good Lords, those vollyes never fright me; +Yet, not to seeme remisse or sleep secure here, +I have taken order to prevent their angers; +I have sent Patents[182] out for the choicest Companies +Hether to be remov'd: first, Collonell _Veres_ +From _Dort_; next Sir _Charles Morgans_, a stowt Company; +And last my Cosens, the Count _Ernests_ Company: +With theis I doubt not to make good our busines; +They shall not find us babes. + +_Bred_. You are nobely provident. + +_Vand_. And now proceed when it please you, and what you thinck fit +We shall subscribe to all. + +_Or_. I thanck your Honours. +Call in the Captaine of my Guard. + +_Serv_. Hee's here, Sir. + + _Enter Captaine_. + +_Or_. Harck in your eare. + +_Cap_. I shall, Sir. + +_Or_. Doe it wisely +And without tumult. + +_Cap_. I observe your Grace. + +_Or_. Now take your rest, my lords: for what care followes +Leave it to me. + +_All_. We wish it all succes, Sir. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +SCAENA 3. + + + _Enter Barnavelt (in his studdy)_. + +_Bar_. This from the King of _Fraunce_, of much importance, +And this from _Englands_ Queene, both mightie Princes +And of immortall memories: here the Rewards sett,-- +They lou'd me both. The King of _Swechland_ this, +About a Truyce; his bounty, too. What's this? +From the Elector Palatine of _Brandenburge_, +To doe him faire and acceptable offices: +I did so; a rich iewell and a chaine he sent me. +The Count of _Solems_, and this from his faire Countess +About compounding of a busines: +I did it and I had their thancks. Count _Bentham_, +The Archbishop of _Cullen_, Duke of _Brunswick_, +Grave _Embden_: theis from Citties, theis from Provinces; +Petitions theis; theis from the States for places. +Have I held correspondence with theis Princes, +And had their loves, the molding of their busines, +Trusted with their most secreat purposes? +Of every State acquainted with the misteries? +And must I stick here now, stick unreleevd, too? +Must all theis glories vanish into darknes, +And _Barnavelt_ passe with 'em and glide away +Like a spent exhalation? I cannot hold; +I am crackt too deepe alredy. What have I don +I cannot answeare? Foole! remember not +Fame has too many eares and eyes to find thee! +What help, o miserable man? none left thee. +What constant frends? 'tis now a cryme to know thee +... ... ... be death. + + _Enter Servant_. + +_Serv_. My Lady would entreat, Sir-- + +_Bar_. My head? What art thou? from whom sent? + +_Serv_. Heaven blesse me! + +_Bar_. Are they so greedy of my blood?--O, pardon me: +I know thee now; thou art my honest Servant. +What would thy Lady? + +_Serv_. Your Company to supper, Sir. + +_Bar_. I cannot eate; I am full alredy, tell hir: +Bid hir sitt downe: full, full, too full. [_Exit Serv_. +My thancks +Poyzd equally with those faire services +I have done the States, I should walk confidently +Upon this high-straind danger. O, this end swayes me, +A heavy bad opinion is fixt here +That pulls me of; and I must downe for ever. + + _Enter Daughter_[183] + +_Daught_. Sir, will it please ye-- + +_Bar_. Ha! + +_Daught_. Will it please ye, Sir-- + +_Bar_. Please me! what please me?--that I send thee, Girle, +To some of my great Masters to beg for me. +Didst thou meane so? + +_Daught_. I meane, Sir-- + +_Bar_. Thou art too charitable +To prostitute thy beutie to releeve me; +With thy soft kisses to redeeme from fetters +The stubborne fortune of thy wretched father. + +_Daught_. I understand ye not. + +_Bar_. I hope thou do'st not. + +_Daught_. My Lady Mother, Sir-- + +_Bar_. Prethee, good Girle, +Be not so cruell to thy aged father +To somme up all his miseries before him. + +_Daught_. I come, Sir, to entreat your Company. + +_Bar_. I am not alone. + +_Daught_. My Mother will not eate, Sir. +--What fitt is this! + +_Bar_. There can be no attonement: +I know the Prince: _Vandort_ is fleshd upon me, +And _Bredero_, though he be of noble nature, +Dare not step in. Wher's my Son _William_? +His Goverment is gon, too; and the Soldier, +O, the falce Soldier! What! wouldst thou have a husband? +Goe, marry an English Captaine, and hee'll teach thee +How to defy thy father and his fortune.-- +I cannot eate; I have no stomach, Girle. + +_Daught_. Good Sir, be patient. + +_Bar_. No news from _Grotius_? +No flow of frends there? _Hoger-beets_ lye still, too? +--Away: ile come anon. + +_Daught_. Now heaven preserve ye! [_Exit_. + +_Bar_. A gentle Girle: why should not I pray, too? +I had nere more need. When I am sett and gon, +What understanding can they stick up then +To fill the place I bore? None, not a man: +To traffick with Great Princes? none: to deale +With all the trobles of the war? None, certaine, no man: +To bring in daylie treasure? I know no man; +They cannot pick a man made up to serve 'em. +Why should I feare then? doubt, and fly before +Myne owne weake thoughts?--Art thou there, too? + + _Enter Wife[184] and Daughter_. + +_Wife_. Fy, fy, Sir: +Why do you suffer theis sad dead retirements +To choake your speritts? You have studied long enough +To serve the uses of those men that scorne ye; +'Tis time you take your ease now. + +_Bar_. I shall shortly; +An everlasting ease, I hope. + +_Wife_. Why weep ye, +My deere Sir? speak. + +_Bar_. Never till now unhappie! +Thy fruit there and my fall ripen togeather +And fortune gives me heires of my disgraces. + +_Wife_. Take nobler thoughts. + +_Bar_. What will becom of thee, Wiffe, +When I am gon? When they have gorgd their envies +With what I have, what honest hand in pitty +Will powre out to thy wants? What noble eye +Will looke upon my Children strooke with miserie +And say 'you had a father that I honourd; +For his sake be my Brothers and my Sisters.' + +_Wife_. There cannot be such crueltie. + +_Bar_. I hope not; +Yet what so confident Sailour that heares the Sea rore, +The winds sing lowd and dreadfull, the day darkend, +But he will cry 'a storme'! downe with his Canvas +And hull, expecting of that horrid feavour? + + _Enter Son_. + +--How now? What newes? + +_Son_. Plucke up your hart, Sir, fairely +And wither not away thus poorely from us; +Be now secure: the myst ye feard is vanishd,-- +_Leidenberch's_ dead. + +_Bar_. Dead? + +_Son_. Killd himself; his owne hand +Most bravely was his Justice; nor left behind him +One peece of paper to dishonour ye. +They are all to seeke now for their Accusations. + +_Bar_. And is he dead? so timely, too? so truly? +Speak't againe, _Will_? + +_Son_. Hee's dead, Sir, if I live here. + +_Bar_. And his owne hand? + +_Son_. His hand and will performd it. + +_Bar_. Give me some wyne. I find now, notwithstanding + [_Enter Servant with wine_. +The opposition of those mindes that hate me, +A wise-man spyns his owne fate and secures it. +Nor can I, that have powre to perswade men dye, +Want living frends to iustifie my Creadit. +Goe in and get me meat now; invyte my frends, +I am determind to be high and merry. +Thou hast lost thy Charge; wee'll have another, _Will_; +It shall goe hard els. The Prince of _Orange_ now +Will find what frends I have, and of what reckning; +And when he seekes this life, he must make passage +Through thousands more and those he little dreames of. + +_Son_. I wonder how he got that speritt, Sir, to dye soe? + +_Bar_. He was a weak man, indeed, but he has redeemd it: +There be some other I could wish of his mind. +Do'st thinck they dare doe any thing now. + +_Son_. 'Troth, I thinck not, Sir. + +_Bar_. No, Boy, I warrant thee; they make great soundes, +But mark what followes. Prethee, let's be merry, +I want it much. + +_Son_. I am glad to see you so, Sir. + + _Enter Servant_. + +_Bar_. I cannot be above two daies from Councell, +I know their wants. How now, what haste? + +_Serv_. O, Sir, ye are undon; +We have lost ye. + +_Bar_. Ha! + +_Serv_. For ever lost ye. + +_Bar_. Why? + +[_Serv_.] The Captaine of the Guard, the Princes Captaine-- + +_Bar_. Where? how? + + _Enter Wife & Daughter_. + +_Serv_. Is broken in now upon us. + +_Wife_. He will not be denyde. O, my deare Husband! +The cruell Princes Captaine! + + [_Captaine within_. + +_Cap_. Ope the dore; +Wee'll force it els, and all that dare resist us +Wee'll put to th'Sword. + +_Bar_. Open the dore: farewell, Wiffe; +Goe to the French Embassadour presently; +There's all my hope. To him make knowne my misery, +Wooe him with teares, with praires: this kisse; be happie. + +_Wife_. O, we shall never see ye more! + + [_Exeunt Wife and Daughter_. + + _Enter Captaine & others_. + +_Bar_. Away!-- +You Instrument of blood, why doe ye seeke us? +I have knowne the day you have wayted like a suppliant +And those knees bended as I past. Is there no reverence +Belonging to me left now, that like a Ruffian +Rudely ye force my lodgings? No punishment +Due to a cryme of that fowle nature? + +_Cap_. You must pardon me, +I have commission, Sir, for what I offer, +And from those men that are your Masters, too; +At least you'll find 'em soe. You must shift your lodging, +And presently: I have a charge to see ye +Yeild yourself quietly. + +_Bar_. Goe and tell their Lordships +I will attend to-morrow. I know my time +And how to meet their mallice without guards. +This is the Prince, the cruell Prince your Master, +The thirstie Prince of this poore Life. + +_Cap_. Be not vext; +That will not help ye, Sir. + +_Bar_. I wilbe vext, +And such an anger I will fling amongst 'em +Shall shake the servile soules of these poore wretches +That stick his slight deservings above mine. +I charge ye draw your Guard off and disperce 'em: +I have a powre as full as theirs. + +_Cap_. You'll find not; +And I must have ye with me. + +_Bar_. And am I subiect +That have stood the brunt of all their busines, +And when they slept watcht to secure their slombers,-- +Subiect to slights, to scornes, to taynts, to tortures? +To feed one privat mallice am I betrayd? +Myne age, myne honour and my honest dealing +Sold to the hangmans Sword? + +_Cap_. I cannot stay. + +_Bar_. Take me +And glory in my blood, you most ungratefull; +Feed your long bloody hopes and bath your angers +In _Barnavelts_ deservings; share my Services; +Let it be death to pitty me; to speak well of me, +The ruyn of whole famylies. When I am gon +And angry war againe shall ceize your Cuntry, +Too late remember then and cursse your follyes. +--I am ready. Farwell, Son; remember me +But not my fortune; let them cry that shall want me. + +_Cap_. No man come neere on paine of death: away with him. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +SCAENA 4. + + + _Enter Orange & 1 Captaine_.[185] + +_Cap_. And as I told your Highnes, so wee tooke him. + +_Or_. 'Twas with discretion and valour followd. +You were not noted as you made entraunce +Into the _Hague_? + +_Cap_. No, Sir; 'twas about midnight, +And few were stirring but the Guard. + +_Or_. The better. +Let his being brought in be still conceald, and tell him +If uncompelld he will confes the truth +At _Barnavelts_ Arraignement, that all favour +That I can wyn him shall prepare a way +To quallifie his fault. + +_Cap_. Ile work him to it +And doubt not. + + _Enter Burgers & Women with bowghs & flowres_. + +_Cap_. 'Tis Kramis[186]-time, +In which it is a custome with the people +To deck their dores with Garlonds, Bowghes, and flowres +That are most gratious. + +_Or_. I remember. +--Stand close. + +[1] _Burg_. Strew, strew: more Garlonds and more Flowres. +Up with the Bowghes! Sacramant, I will have +My noble frends house, Mounseiur _Barnavelts_, +As well deckt as his Excellencies Court, +For though they have got him in prison he deserves +As well as any. + +_Cap_. Mark you that. + +2 _Burg_. 'Tis said +They will cutt of his head. + +1 _Burg_. Much![187] with a Cusshin! +They know he has too many frends. + +[2] _Burg_. They dare not. +People will talke: I hope ere long to see him +As great as ever. + +[1] _Burg_. Greater too, I doubt not, +And of more powre; his feet upon the necks +Of all his Enemies. + +_Or_. I am glad I heard this; +And _Barnavelt_ shall feele I will make use oft. +Come; follow me. + [_Exeunt_. + +2 _Burg_. So, now the merry Song +We made for his good Lady. Lustique,[188] hoa! + + [Song. + + _Enter Wife above_. + +_Wife_. All thancks, kind frends, that a sad house can give ye +Pray you receive; for I rest well assurd, +Though theis sports are unseasonable here, +They testifie your loves; and, if my Lord +Ere live to be himself againe, I know +He will remember it. + +1 _Burg_. Now for the Daunce, Boyes. + +_Wife_. Ther's something for your paines: drinck it, I pray. + +2 _Burg_. To a doyt, my vroa, to thy Lords health and thyne. +The Bree[189] for his Excellencie and the Heeres +That love him not. Ten hundred thousand blessings +To him and thee, my vroa. + [_Daunce_. + +_Wife_. I thanck you, frend. + [_Exeunt_. + + + +SCAENA 5. + + + _Enter Orange, Bredero, Vandort, William, Lords. + [Table_. + +_Vand_. Let him be sent for presently: he shall know, + [_A Bar brought in_. +Were he ten times more popular, his frends +And flatterers Centuple, the Sword of Justice +Shall fall on him as on the meanest man +Since he deserves it. + + _Enter Provost, Captaines & Guard with Barnavelt_. + +_Pro_. Make roome for the Prisoner. + +_Bar_. My dutie to your Highnes and theis Princes +And an increase of wisdome to your Lordships, +For which the world admires you, I wish to you. +Alas, what troble do's a weake old man, +(That is, being out of all imployment, useles) +The bag of his deserts, too, cast behind you, +Impose upon this Senat? My poore life +(Which others envy makes your Instruments +To fight against) will hardly be a Conquest +Worthie such great performers. + +_Vand_. Mounseiur _Barnavelt_, +'Tis no mans envy that hath brought us hether +To sitt as Judges on you, but your owne. +Your owne late actions they have raisd a war +Against your former merritts, and defeated +What ever then was ranckt for good and great, +For which your Enemies, those that you thought frends, +Triumph, not wee. + +_Bre_. We rather wish you could +Acquitt yourself of that for which we have +Too evident prooffes, then labour to intrap you. + +_Bar_. I must beleeve and suffer whatsoever +Your Lordships charge me with: yet would gladly heare +What my faultes are. + +_Vand_. Read the Confessions +Of _Leidenberch_ and _Taurinus_. + +_Bar_. _Leidenberch_! + +_Officer reads_. First, that the _Arminian_ faction (of which Sir _John +Van Olden Barnavelt_, late Advocate of _Holland_ and _West Frizeland_ +and Councellor of State, was without contradiction the head) had +resolved and agreed to renounce and break the generallity and unitie +of the State. + +Secondly, Change and alter the Religion, and to that end, without the +Consent of the Generall States, had raysed up and dispeirsed 3000 +Arminian Soldiers. + +Thirdly, To degrade the Prince of _Orange_. + +Fourthly, To massacre the people of the Townes which were their greatest +Enemies or offered resistaunce. + +Fiftly, yf that fayled, to take in assistaunce of some forreigne +Potentates, as _Spaine_ or _Brabant_, delivering unto them _Utricht, +Nunweghen, Bergen op Zone_, and the _Brill_-- + +_Bar_. And that, with others, this was _Barnavelts_ purpose? +For so your Lordships take it. + +_Bred_. With good reason. + +_Vand_. Too many and strong proofes invyting us +To creadit it. + +_Bar_. Yf you will have them such, +All truth I can bring to dyvert your Lordships +From your determinate opinion that way +Will not remove them. Yet 'tis strange that man +Should labour to devide those Generall States +That had no weak hand in unyting them,-- +That _Barnavelt_ (a name you have remembered +When you have thought by whom you were mad happie)-- +That _Barnavelt_ (alowd I dare repeat it), +Who, when there was Combustion in the State, +Your Excellence, Grave _William_ and Count _Henrie_, +Taking instructions for your Commaunds +From one that then ruld all; the Provinces +Refucing to bring in their Contributions +And arguing whether the West _Frizelander_ +And _Hollander_ had powre to raise such Tribut, +When many of the Governours stood ill +Affected to you, all our Garrisons +Not sworne then to the Generall States but others, +Which the promiscuous multitude gladly followed: +When _Graves_ and _Vendloe_ were held by the _Spaniard_ +And _Nunweghen_ with violence assaulted, +Confusion with one greedy gripe being ready +To seaze on all; then when the _Sluice_ was lost +And all in muteny at _Midleborough_, +Who then rose up or durst step in before me +To doe these Cuntries service? Who then labourd +More then the now suspected _Barnavelt_ +T'appease seditions and compound all Quarrells? +Who pacified the Malcontents? Who taught you +To stand upon your Guards and trust yourselves? +O, you forgettfull, all this I performd +And in the golden fagot of faire Concord +Bound safely up those strengthes which Mutenies, +Corruption and homebred Traitors scatterd. + +_Vand_. This is a point you often choose to treat of, +And yet some part of theis good services +None will deny you. + +_Or_. But to ingrosse all +Would argue me your ward, should I give way too't, +And these grave Lords your Schollers. + +_Bar_. In the Art +Of Goverment they scornd not once to be soe, +Nor you to give me hearing: and if ever +'Twer lawful th' unthanckfull men t'upbraid +Unequall benefitts, let it not in me +Be now held glorious if I speake my best. +I have five times in regall Embassies +Byn sent the principall Agent for theis Cuntries, +And for your good have spoken face to face +With mightie Kings: twyce with that virgin Queene, +Our Patronesse of happie memory, +_Elizabeth_ of _England_; twyce in _Fraunce_ +With that invincible King that worthely +(Though dead) is still'd the _Great, Henry_ the _fourth_; +Once with the King of _Britaine_ that now is: +Yet let my greatest Enemy name the least +Of theis so high Imployments in which I +Treated without advantage, and returnd not +With proffitt, as with honour, to my Cuntry, +And let me fall beneath the worst aspersion +His mallice can throw on me. Besides Soldiers +So often levied by my meanes for you, +Which to particularize were teadious, +Two millions and five hundred thousand pounds, +For which the Provinces stood bound, I wrought +Freely to be dischargd; the Townes they pawnd +To be deliverd up; and after all +Theis meritorious and prosperous travells +T'unyte theis States, can _Barnavelt_ be suspected +To be the authour to undoe that knot +Which with such toyle he fastend[190]. + +_Or_. Pawse, I beseech you, +And while you gather breath to fill the Trumpet +Of your deserts give me leave to deliver +A litle for the States and mine owne honour. +We have heard a glorious Catalogue of your vertues +But not one vice or slip of yours rememberd; +But I will help your memory:--who was he +That gave intelligence of my sodaine comming +To surprize _Antwerpe_? They that brought the Letters +Were knowne and but from you could have no notice +Of any such design. Who hinderd me +From rescuing of _Rheinberch_ in the last Seige? +Who warranted the yeilding of it up +Without necessitie to the Governour? +Who was the cause no greater powre was sent +Against the Enemie when he past the Rhine +And tooke the Townes of _Oldensell, Lingen, Groll_? +To thinck of this would give a litle vent +To the windy bladder of your vanitie +Which you have blowne to an unlymitted vastnes. +Your Insolence to me before the Battaile +Of _Flaunders_ I forget[191].-- +Call in _Modesbargen_. + +_Bar_. [aside[192]] He a prisoner, too! +Then I am lost. + + _Enter Captaine with Modesbargen_. + +_Or_. Ha! do's that startle you? + +_Bar_. [aside[192]] I must collect myself. + +_Or_. You shall heare more. + +_Modesb_. O, Mounseiur _Barnavelt_, do we meet thus? +I am as sorry to behold you there +As know myself a Prisoner. Now you perceive +To what a desperate state your headlong Counsells +And rash designes have brought us: to stand out now +Were to no purpose, for, alas, they have +Too pregnant prooffes against us. + +_Bar_. You that feele +The horrour of fowle guilt in your falce bosom +Confes yourself soe; my strong Inocence +To the death stands constant. + +_Or_. Take _Modesbargen_ in. + + [_Exit Cap. and Modesb_.] + +_Vand_. This is an impudence I never read of. +But now wee'll show thee, miserable man, +Such further prooffes as would call up a blush +Upon the devills cheeke. Looke upon this, +Signd by the Governor, Chauncellor and Counsell +Of _Gilderland_ and _Zutphen_, who here name thee +The roote and head of the late Schisme. + +_Bred_. And this +Sent from the Lords of _Utrecht_, where 'tis prov'd +That the new Companies were raisd by you, +And to what purpose. + +_William_. To subvert Religion, +To deface Justice and to breake the union +And holly League betweene the _Provinces_. + +[_Henry_.[193] The Proclamations are allowd by you +Sent forth against the Protestants; and here +Your resolution to degrade my Brother +And then dispose of him as you thought fitt.] + +_Vand_. Your plott here to withdraw all the old Soldiers +From the Commandement of the States, and wyn them +To serve for your ends in a Civill war. + +_Bred_. To raise up Cittizen against Cittizen, +Stranger gainst stranger, Soldier against Soldier, +And Maiestrates against the Maiestrates. + +_Or_. To waste the Land within that with lesse danger +The forraigne Enemy might make his entraunce. +Yf then this be not treacherie beyond +All presidents of Traitours-- + +_Bar_. Give me Leave +Onely to smile, then say all theis are falce, +Your witnesses subornd, your testemonies +And wrytings forgd, and this elaborate forme +Of Justice to delude the world a cover +For future practises: this I affirme +Upon my soule[194]. Now when you please condempne me: +I will not use one sillable for your mercy +To have mine age renewd and once againe +To see a second triumph of my glories. +You rise, and I grow tedious; let me take +My farwell of you yet, and at the place +Where I have oft byn heard; and, as my life +Was ever fertile of good councells for you, +It shall not be in the last moment barren. +_Octavius_[195], when he did affect the Empire +And strove to tread upon the neck of _Rome_ +And all hir ancient freedoms, tooke that course[196] +That now is practisd on you; for the _Catos_ +And all free sperritts slaine or els proscribd +That durst have stir'd against him, he then sceasd +The absolute rule of all. You can apply this[197]: +And here I prophecie I, that have lyvd +And dye a free man, shall when I am ashes +Be sensible of your groanes and wishes for me; +And when too late you see this Goverment +Changd to a Monarchie[198] youll howle in vaine +And wish you had a _Barnavelt_ againe. +Now lead me where you will: a speedy Sentence: +I am ready for it and 'tis all I ask you. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + + +_Actus Quintus_. + +SCAENA PRIMA. + + + _Enter Wife, Daughter, Servant with Peares_. + +_Wife_. Denyde to see my Husband! o you Tirants! +And (to increase my misery) in vaine +By heaven I kneeld for't, wept and kneeld in vaine +To such as would, while _Barnavelt_ was himself-- +But why do I remember that word 'was,' +That never happie word of 'was.' + +_Serv_. Good Madam, +Beare (with your usuall wisdom) what is not +In you to help. The strict guard's kept upon him; +His State ceizd on; my Lord your Son disgracd, too, +And all your frends suspected, may assure you +No price beneath his head must answeare for him. + +_Daughter_. But is he not alredy dead? + +_Wife_. I, I, +There lyes my feare. + +_Serv_. I sweare to you I saw him +Not many howres since, and hundreds more; +But yet, as one that's bound to honour him, +I had rather have had assuraunce of his death +Than so to have seen him. + +_Both_. Why? + +_Serv_. I have followd him +When every step he made met a Petition, +And these, that are his Judges now, like Clyents +Have wayted on him. The whole Court attended +When he was pleasd to speake, and, with such murmours +As glad Spectators in a Theater +Grace their best Actors with, they ever heard him; +When to have had a sight of him was held +A prosperous omen; when no eye gazd on him +That was not filld with admiration, not +As now with scorne or pitty. His rude Guard, +For proofe that they contempne all such as ayme +Or hope for his release (as if he were +Some prodigie or monster), each night show him +To such as greive his fortune, which must be +To him worse then ten thousand deaths made horrid +With all the actes of Crueltie. + +_Daught_. I have hope yet +To see an alteration. + +_Wife_. My good Servant, +He has some frends left yet and powerfull ones +That can doe more then weepe for him as we doe; +Those I will strayt sollicite. In the meane time, +That to his comfort he may know so much, +Endeavour thou to have this simple present +As from thy self sent to him. + +_Serv_. I will hazard +All that can fall upon me to effect it. + + [_Exeunt[199] Wife and Daughter_. + + _Enter Provost & Guard_. + +_Pro_. What makes this fellow here? Whether would ye, Sir? + +_Serv_. Sir, to desire accesse unto my Lord +Were to ask that I know must be denide, +And therefore I forbeare it; but intreating +What cannot wrong you in the graunt, I hope +To find you curteous. + +_Pro_. What's the Suit? + +_Serv_. This onely: +My Lord, your prisoner, for my service gave me +A poore house with an Orchard in the Cuntry. +The fruites of which he did not scorne to taste of +In th'height of his prosperitie; but of all +That pleasd his pallat there was one faire tree, +On which theis Peares grew, which by his appointment +Were still reservd for him, and as a Rent +Due for my Living I stood bound to tender. +Theis, yf you please, the last I shall pay to him, +I would present him with, by what Attorney +Your goodnes shall prescribe me. + +_Prov_. They are faire Peares, +Exceeding faire ones: ile make bold with one, +The rest beare to him. + +_Serv_. [aside[200]] All wilbe discoverd, +I am glad I am got off, yet. [_Exit_. + + _Enter Provosts Wife_[201]. + +_Prov_. What make you here? +Do you come to traile a pike or use a Musket? + +_Wife_. For neither, Sir; I came to see you. + +_Pro_. Home! +This is no place for women. To your Gossips! +This burthen would become a Chamber better. + +_Wife_. 'Tis a faire Peare. + +_Prov_. You long for't: pray you take it, +You are priviledgd now to beg.--Ha! charmes in't? stay, +Give mee't. I would not for a thousand dollars +This had byn undiscoverd. Pray you goe home; +At night ile see you. + +_Wife_. You know my obedience +And I must practise it. + +_Prov_. Make out for the fellow +That came with this device. 'Twas queintly carried: +The stalke pluckt cleanly out, and in the quill +This scroll conveyd. What ere it be the Prince +Shall instantly peruse it. + + _Enter Orange, Wm., Vandort, Bredero_. + +_Or_. How came you by this? + +_Prov_. I intercepted it in a dish of Peares +Brought by a man of _Barnavelts_, but sent to him +From some of better ranck. + +_Or_. See what is written here,-- +'You have frends left and therefore, Sir, dispaire not.' + +_Vand_. 'Tis this that feeds his Insolence, theis are they +That, when they should have paid their prairs for him +As for a guilty man, adoarnd his house +In the dispight of us and of our Justice. + +_Bred_. But such shall find their flattering breath but makes +The fire, our Cuntries safetie byds us cherish, +To burne with greater heate. + +_Vand_. And so consume him. + +_Or_. The freedom of our goverment, and our honours, +And what we dare doe now lies at the stake. +The better part of all the christian world +Marks our proceedings, and it wilbe said, +Yf having the Conspirators in our powre +We sentence none of them, being convincd, too, +Of fowre and thirtie Articles and each treason, +'Tis don for feare. Then, to affright the rest, +I hold it fitt that _Barnavelt_, one that has +Most frends and meanes to hurt, and will fall therefore +With greater terror, should receive his Sentence, +Then dye as he deserves. For _Modesbargen_ +And _Hogerbeets_ we shall find fitt time to +Thinck of them hereafter. + +_Bred_. Let him be sent for. + +_Vand_. In the meane time 'tis fit we should give hearing +To the _French_ Embassadors, who, I know, come now +To mediat for him. + +_Bred_. Wayt upon them in: +Their Propositions shalbe answeard freely, +And by such men as are their frends, not Servants. + + _Enter Boisise, Morier, Wife, Daughter, Attendants_. + +_Boi_[202]. We will plead for him and prevaile, we doubt not. +Take comfort therefore, Madam, and a while, +Since you are not to be admitted here, +Leave us to our endeavors. + +_Wife_. Heaven direct +And prosper theis your charitable traviles. + + [_Exeunt Wife & Daughter_. + +_Or_. Bring Chaires there for their Lordships. + + [_2 Chaires_. + +_Vand_.[203] And prepare them +A sylent hearing. + +_Bois_. My good Lords, +We are commaunded by the King our Master +(Who ever hath respected your affaires +As the tranquility of his owne kingdoms) +To let you thus far understand his pleasure: +He do's exhort you, as the best foundation +Of your estate, with all care to preserve +The union of your provinces, and wishes +The change that you have made of Maiestrates, +The Advocate and Counsellors of State +In many of your Townes, breed not dissentions +In steed of ceasing them. Touching your Prisoners +That stand accusd of detestable Crymes, +His Counsaile is, if they be culpable, +That you use speedy Justice and with rigour. + +_Mor_. Ever remembring that the greatest Princes +Have sometimes to their glory byn most apt +To pardon what was enterprizd against +Their Goverments, nay their lives; and that the freest +And the best Common-Wealthes, have alwaies usd +To spare the blood of their owne Cittizens, +And that in great offenders--it still being +The principall signe of libertie and freedom +Not easily, but with mature advice, +To touch the lives of Cittizens. + +_Bois_. And the rather +When question is made of such as are +Your officers placed in authoritie, +Of whom the ancientst Mounsieur _Barnavelt_, +So much commended for so many good +And notable services don for theis Cuntries, +Deserves most serious regard. My Master +And other Kings & Princes your allyes, +Lyving yet witnesses of his great meritts +And with such admiration that they can +Be hardly brought to thinck he should conspire +Against these States, for which yourselves best know +What travayles he hath undergon; and therefore +Once more he do's advice you to use mercy, +Which if you doe, he then shall thinck you merit +The many favours you have tasted from him: +Yf not, he having given you whollsom Counsaile, +Yf you refuce it he must thinck himself +Slighted in his requests; and then, perhaps, +Hereafter you may misse that promptnes in him +Which you have found when your wants most requird it. + +_Vand_. May it please your Highnes in the names of all +To make their Lordships answeare. + +_Or_. Willingly; +For I must still be glad to take occasion +To speak how much your Lordships and myself +Ever stand bound to that most Christian King +Whose favours, with all thancks, we must acknowledge +As with all care preserve. Onely we hope +His Maiestie will give us leave to say +We greive that he is misinformd of us +And our proceedings, of which we hereafter +Will give him certaine and unanswerable proofes +To iustefie our Actions, which we will +Make knowne to all the world; till when we wish +He will be pleasd to give way to the States +To finish what they have begon, with Justice +Temperd with mercy; and that your good Lordships +Will give his Grace to understand thus much, +If with the generall voice you doe approve it. + +_Bred_. We will confirme it with our generall Seale, +And send our answeare to his Propositions +With our respect and duties. + +_Mor_. This we shall +Make knowne unto him. + +_Or_. Roome there for their Lordships. + + [_Ext. Embs_. + +_Bred_. What thinck you now, my Lords? + +_Vand_. In my opinion +'Tis time he had his Sentence! + +_Wm_. Is it drawne? + +_Vand_. Yes, here it is. The peoples loves grow daungerous; +In every place the whispers of his rescue; +The lowd and common voice of his deservings +Is floong abroad. Nor doe they handle theis things +By rules of truth and reason, but their owne wills-- +Their headstrong hott affections. + +_Bred_. Is he sent for? + +_Or_. Yes and will presently be here. + +_Bred_. Sit downe then, +And now with speedy Justice let's prepare +To cutt off this Imposthume. + + _Enter Provost & Guard, with Barnavelt_. + +_Vand_. 'Tis high time, Sir. + +_Prov_. Roome for the Prisoner! + +_Vand_. Bring him in; Sit downe, Sir, +And take your last place with us. + +_Bar_. 'Tis your forme +And I infringe no order. + +_Bred_. Mounseiur _Barnavelt_, +Will ye confes yet freely your bad practises +And lay those Instruments open to the World, +Those bloody and bold Instruments you wrought by? +Mercy may sleepe awhile but never dyes, Sir. + +_Bar_. I have spoake all I can, and seald that all +With all I have to care for now, my Conscience. +More I beseech your honours-- + +_Or_. Take your pleasure. + +_Vand_. You will give us no more lights: What this world gives you, +To morrow thus we take away. Receive it. + +_Bar_. My Sentence? + +_Vand_. Yes; consider for your soule now, +And so farewell. + +_Bar_. I humbly thanck your honours: +I shall not play my last Act worst. + +_Bred_. Heavens mercy +And a still conscience wayt upon your end, Sir. + +_Or_. Now guard him back againe: by the break of day +You shall have order from us. + +_Prov_. Roome for the Prisoner!-- + + [_Ext. Provost and Guard, with Barnavelt_. + +_Or_. The world shall know that what's iust we dare doe. + +_Vand_. Nor shall the desperate act of _Leidenberch_ +Delude what we determind. Let his Coffin +Be therefore hangd up on the publique Gallowes. +Th'Executioners like hungry vultures +Have smelld out their imployment. + +_Or_. Let them have it: +And all that plot against the generall good +Learne from this mans example, great in age, +Greater in wealth and in authoritie, +But matchles in his worldly pollicie, +That there is one above that do's deride +The wisest counsailes that are misaplide. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +SCAENA 2. + + + _Enter Harlem, Leyden & Utrecht Executioners_. + +_Har_. Now hard and sharpe, for a wager, who shall doe it. Here's a +Sword would doe a man's head good to be cut of with it; cures all +rhumes, all Catharres, megroomes, verteegoes: presto, be gone! + +_Ley_. You must not carry it, _Harlem_: you are a pretty fellow and lop +the lyne of life well, but weake to _Baltazar_. Give roome for _Leyden_: +heer's an old Cutter, heer's one has polld more pates and neater then a +dicker[204], of your Barbers; they nere need washing after. Do's not thy +neck itch now to be scratchd a little with this? + +_Har_. No, in truth do's it not; but if you'll try first, yf I doe not +whip your dodipoll as clenly of and set it on againe as handsomely as it +stands now, that you may blow your nose and pledge me too Cans after-- + +_Ley_. I was afraid +The rogue had don't indeed. + +_Utr_. You two imagine now +You are excellent workmen and that you can doe wonders, +And _Utrecht_ but an Asse. Let's feele your Raizors: +Handsawes, meere handsawes! Do you put your knees to'em too, +And take mens necks for timber? You cutt a feather? +Cut butter when your tooles are hot! Looke here, puppies; +Heer's the sword that cutt of _Pompeis_ head. + +_Har_. The head of a Pumpion.[205] + +_Utr_. Looke on't but come not neere it: the very wind on't +Will borrow a leg or an arme. Heers touch & take, boyes! +And this shall moaw the head of Mounsieur _Barnavelt_. +Man is but grasse and hay: I have him here +And here I have him. I would undertake with this Sword +To cutt the devills head of, hornes and all, +And give it to a Burger for his breakfast. + +_Ley_. We know you have byn the headman of the parish +A great while, _Utricht_, and ministerd much Justice, +Nickt many a worthie gamester; and that you, _Harlem_, +Have shortend many a hanging cause, to your Commendation: +Yet, for all this, who shall trym Monsieur _Barnavelt_ +Must run by fortune. You are proper men both; +But why before me that have studdied the true trick on't +Theis twenty yeeres, and run through all the theorems? + +_Har_. Let's fling for't then. + +_Ley_. I am content. + +_Utr_. And I. + +_Har_. Sit round, then: here are dyce, and ile begin to ye. +Have at your head, Sir _John_! dewce ace[206]; a doggs-head![207] +The devill turnd this ace up. Farwell, velvet gowne! +Thou hast mist the luckiest hand to scratch thy Coxcomb. + +_Ley_. No, no, Sir. +Now for my part. Heigh! fight aloft for the head, boyes. +How? Cater-trey[208]? + +_Utr_. Will you take a sleeve for your share, Sir? + +_Ley_. 'Tis but a desperat cast, and so hee'l find it, +If it fall to me. Cast for your game. + +_Utr_. Have at it: +Stay, let me swing my Sword thrice round first: now, +Now the Graves head ... goose giblitts.-- +Two sixes, boyes! I knew I should performe it. + +Har. Ye have it: thanck your fortune. + +_Utr_. I could not misse it, +I never lost so faire a stake yet. How ile doe it +And in what posture: first, how ile take my leave of him, +With a few teares to draw more money from him; +Then fold up his braunchd[209] gowne, his hat, his doblet, +And like the devill cry 'mine owne! lye there, boyes!' +Then bind his eyes; last stir myself up bravely +And, in the midle of a whollsome praire, +Whip and--_hic iacet Barnavelt_.-- +Come, let's sing our old Song, +And then come view me how I doe my busines. +Boy, come, sing you for me. + + [_Song. Exeunt_. + + + +SCAENA 3. + + + _Enter 2 Captaines[210] & their Soldiers, severally_. + +1 _Cap_. Here stand we fast. + +2 _Cap_. Cock all your Musketts, Soldiers, now, +And gentlemen be ready to bend your pikes; +The prisoner's comming out. + +1 _Cap_. But doe you thinck +They meane to take his head of, or to fright him? + +2 _Cap_. Heaven keep me from such frights. Why are theis Guards +Commaunded to make good the Execution, +If they intend not death? + +1 _Cap_. But dare they doe it? + +2 _Cap_. What dare not Justice do that's right and honest? +Is he not proov'd a guilty man? What bugs +Should publick safety be afraid to looke on? +Do you hold the United _States_ so tame to feare him,-- +Feare him a Traitor, too? + +1 _Cap_. You know hee's much lov'd, +And every where they stir in his Compassion. + +2 _Cap_. They'll stir so long till some of 'em will sinck for't, +Some of the best I feare that glewd his faction; +Their building lyes discoverd and their bases broken. + +1 _Cap_. There is much money laid in every place, too, +Hundreds and thousands, that they dare not strike him. + +2 _Cap_. Give loosers leave to play the fooles; 'tis lost all. +Secure yourself he dyes; nor is it wisdom +To go an ace lesse with him: he is monstrous. +--The people hurry now; stand fast, he is comming. + + _Enter Provost, Soldiers & Executioners, with a Coffin & a Gibbett_. + +_Pro_. Make roome before! cleere all theis gaping people +And stop their passage. + +1 _Cap_. How now? What wonder's this? + +_Prov_. Stay! or ile make ye stay: I charge ye stir not. + +2 _Cap_. What thinck you now? dare not theis men do Justice? +This is the body of _Leidenberg_, that killd himself +To free his Cause: his shame has found him yet. + +_Prov_. Up with him, come: set all your hands & heave him! + +_Exec_. A plaguy, heavy Lubber! Sure this fellow +Has a bushell of plot in's belly, he weighes so massy. +Heigh! now againe! he stincks like a hung poll cat. +This rotten treason has a vengeance savour; +This venison wants pepper and salt abhominably. + +_Prov_. Pyn him aloft, and pin him sure. + +_Exec_. I warrant ye; +If ere he run away againe ile swing for him. +This would make a rare signe for a Cookes shop, +The Christmas pie. + [_Exeunt Executioners_. + +_Prov_. Come; now about the rest.--Keepe the Court cleere still. + + [_Exeunt Provost and Soldiers_. + +2 _Cap_. What thinck you now? + +1 _Cap_. Now I am afraid of him. +This prologue should portend a fatall Tragedie: +Theis examples will make 'em shake. + +2 _Cap_. 'Tis well they have 'em; +Their stubbornenes and pride requires 'em greater. +The Prince strikes iust ith' nick and strikes home nobely: +This new pretending faction had fird all els; +They had floong a generall ruyn on the Cuntry. + + _Enter Boyes & Burgers_. + +1 _Boy_. He comes, he comes, he comes! o for a place now! + +2 _Boy_. Let's climb the Battlements. + +_Cap_. Away with theis rogues. + +1 _Burg_. I saw the Guard goe for him: Where shall we be now? + +2 _Burg_. He will make a notable Speech, I warrant him. + +3 _Burg_. Let's get us neere the Skaffold. + +1 _Cap_. Keep of, Turnops: +Ye come upon our Pikes els. + +1 _Burg_. Pox o' theis Soldiers? +We cannot see our frends hangd in quiet for 'em. +Come, come, to th' top oth' hall. + + [_Exeunt Boys & Burgers_.] + +2 _Cap_. Away, good pilchers![211] +Now blow your matches and stand fast: he comes here. + +1 _Cap_. And now bend all your pikes. + + _Enter Provost, Barnavelt, Lords, Guard. + (A Scaffold put out) Executioner_. + +_Prov_. Cleere all the Skaffold; +Let no more into th'Court; we are choakd with people. + +_Bar_. You are curteous in your preparations, gentlemen, + +1 _Lord_. You must ascend, Sir. + +_Bar_. Feareles I will, my lords, +And, what you can inflict, as feareles suffer. +Thus high you raise me, a most glorious kindnes +For all my Cares! For my most faithfull service +For you and for the State thus ye promote me! +I thanck ye, Cuntrymen, most nobely thanck ye. +--Pull of my Gowne. Of what place are ye, frend? + +_Exec_. Of _Utrich_, Sir. + +_Bar_. Of _Utrich_! Wherefore, prethee, +Art thou appointed here? + +_Exec_. To tell you true, Sir, +I won this place at dyce: we were three appointed. + +_Bar_. Am I becom a generall game? a Rest[212] +For every Slave to pull at? Thanck ye still: +You are growne the noblest in your favours, gentlemen. +--What's that hangs there? what Coffin? + +_Lord_. How it stirrs him. + +2 _Lord_. The body, Sir, of _Leidenberch_[213] the Traitour. + +_Bar_. The traitour? + +2 _Lord_. I, the Traitour, the fowle Traitour, +Who, though he killd himself to cleere his cause, +Justice has found him out and so proclaimd him. + +_Bar_. Have mercy on his soule! I dare behold him. + +1 _Lord_. Beleeve me, he's much moved. + +2 _Lord_. He has much reason. + +_Bar_. Are theis the holly praires ye prepare for me-- +The comforts to a parting soule? Still I thanck ye, +Most hartely and lovingly I thanck ye. +Will not a single death give satisfaction, +O you most greedy men and most ungratefull,-- +The quiet sleep of him you gape to swallow, +But you must trym up death in all his terrors +And add to soules departing frights and feavors? +Hang up a hundred Coffins; I dare view 'em, +And on their heads subscribe a hundred treasons +It shakes not me, thus dare I smile upon 'em +And strongly thus outlooke your fellest Justice. + +2 _Lord_. Will ye bethinck ye, Sir, of what ye come for. + +_Bar_. I come to dye: bethinck you of your Justice +And with what Sword ye strike, the edge of mallice. +Bethinck ye of the travells I had for ye, +The throaes and grones to bring faire peace amongst ye; +Bethinck ye of the dangers I have plundgd through +And almost gripes of death, to make you glorious. +Thinck when the Cuntry, like a Wildernes, +Brought nothing forth but desolation, +Fire, Sword and Famine; when the earth sweatt under ye +Cold dewes of blood, and _Spanish_ flames hoong ore ye, +And every man stood markt the child of murder +And women wanted wombes to feed theis cruelties;-- +Thinck then who stept in to you, gently tooke ye +And bound your bleeding wounds up; from your faces +Wipd of the sweatts of sorrow, fed and nurssd ye; +Who brought the plowgh againe to crowne your plenty; +Your goodly meadowes who protected (Cuntrymen) +From the armd Soldiers furious marches; who +Unbard the Havens that the floating Merchant +Might clap his lynnen wings up to the windes +And back the raging waves to bring you proffit. +Thinck through whose care you are a Nation +And have a name yet left,--a fruitfull Nation +(Would I could say as thanckfull)--bethinck ye of theis things +And then turne back and blush, blush [for] my ruyne. + +1 _Lord_. 'Tis strange how this [man b]rags; 'tis a strange impudence +Not to be pittied in his [case], not sufferd. +You breed the peace, you bring the plowgh againe? +You wipe the fire and blood of from this Cuntry, +And you restore hir to hir former Beuty? +Blush in thine age, bad man; thy grave blush for thee +And scorne to hide that man that holds no Creadit. +Beare witnes all the world that knowes our Trobles +Or ever greiv'd our plagues, what we have sufferd +And, under Heaven, by what armes we have cur'd theis,-- +Councells and frends; in which I tell thee (_Barnavelt_), +And through thy Impudence I here proclaime it, +Thou hadst the least and last share. 'Tis not your face, Sir, +The greatnes of your friends, corruptly purchast, +The Crying up of your manie Services, +Which lookd into wither away like Mushrumps, +Shall scandall us. + +2 _Lord_. Your _Romaine_ end, to make men +Imagine your strong conscience fortifide, +No, nor your ground Religion. Examine all men +Branded with such fowle syns as you now dye for, +And you shall find their first stepp still Religion. +_Gowrie_ in _Scotland_, 'twas his maine pretention: +Was not he honest, too? his Cuntries father? +Those fyery Speritts next that hatchd in _England_ +That bloody Powder-Plot, and thought like meteors +To have flashd their Cuntryes peace out in a Moment: +Were not their Barrells loden with Religion? +Were not they pious, iust and zealous Subiects? +Humble your soule for shame, and seeke not now, Sir, +To tumble from that happines even Angells +Were throwne from for their pride. Confes, and dye well. + +1 _Lord_. Will ye confes your faultes? + +_Bar_. I come not heather +To make myself guilty; yet one fault I must utter, +And 'tis a great one. + +2 _Lord_. The greater mercy. + +_Bar_. I dye for saving this unthanckfull Cuntry. + +1 _Lord_. Play not with heaven. + +_Bar_. My Game's as sure as yours is, +And with more care and inocence I play it. +Take of my doblet; and I prethee, fellow, +Strike without feare. + +_Exec_. I warrant ile fitt ye. +I pray forgive me, Sir. + +_Bar_. Most hartely, +And heer's my hand. I love thee, too: thy physick +Will quickly purge me from the worldes abuses. +When I speak lowdest, strike. + +_Exec_. I shall observe ye. + +_Bar_. Farwell, my lords: to all your Counsailes fortune, +Happie succes and proffit; peace to this Cuntry; +And to you all, that I have bredd like children, +Not a more faithfull father but more fortunate. +Doe not I stay too long? + +2 _Lord_. Take your owne time, Sir. + +_Bar_. I have a wiffe, my lords, and wretched children, +Unles it please his Grace to looke upon 'em +And your good honours with your eies of favour. +'Twill be a litle happines in my death +That they partake not with their fathers ruyns. + +1 _Lord_. Let not that troble ye: they shall not find it. + +_Bar_. Commend my last breath to his Excellence; +Tell him the Sun he shot at is now setting, +Setting this night, that he may rise to morrow, +For ever setting. Now let him raigne alone +And with his rayes give life and light to all men. +May he protect with honour, fight with fortune, +And dye with generall love, an old and good Prince. +My last petition, good Cuntrymen, forget me: +Your memories wound deeper then your mallice, +And I forgive ye all.--A litle stay me.-- +Honour and world I fling ye thus behind me, +And thus a naked poore man kneele to heaven: +Be gracious to me, heare me, strengthen me. +I come, I come, o gracious heaven! now, now, +Now, I present-- + +_Exec_. Is it well don mine Heeres? + +1 _Lord_. Somewhat too much; you have strooke his fingers, too, +But we forgive your haste. Draw in the body; +And Captaines, we discharge your Companies. + +_Vand_. Make cleere the Court.--Vaine glory, thou art gon! +And thus must all build on Ambition. + +2 _Lord_. Farwell, great hart; full low thy strength now lyes: +He that would purge ambition this way dies. + + _Exeunt_. + + + + + + +INTRODUCTION TO _CAPTAIN UNDERWIT_. + + +This anonymous Comedy is printed, for the first time, from Harl. MS. +7,650,--a small quarto of eighty-nine leaves. I have followed Halliwell +(Dictionary of Old Plays) in adopting the title, Captain _Underwit_. +There is no title-page to the MS. + +An editor with plenty of leisure on his hands would find ample +opportunities in Captain _Underwit_ for discursive comment. Sometimes I +have been obliged to pass over odd phrases and out-of-the-way allusions +without a line of explanation; but in the index at the end of the fourth +volume I hope to settle some difficulties that at present are left +standing. + +The date of the play I take to be circ. 1640 or 1642. In I. 1 there is a +mention of the "league at _Barwick_ and the late expeditions," where the +reference can only be to Charles I.'s march into Scotland in the spring +of 1639, and to the so-called Pacification of _Berwick_. Again, in III. +3, there is an allusion to the Newmarket Cup. Historians of the Turf say +that Newmarket races date from 1640; but this statement is incorrect, +for in Shirley's _Hyde Park_ (V. 1),--a play licensed in 1632 and +printed in 1637,--mention is made of a certain "Bay _Tarrall_ that won +the Cup at Newmarket." We find also an allusion to the "great ship" +(III. 3), which was built in 1637. Of Mr. Adson's "new ayres" (IV. 1) I +know very little. He brought out in 1621 a volume of "Courtly Masquing +Ayres," but published nothing later,--although, of course, he may have +continued writing long afterwards. Hawkins and Mr. Chappell are +altogether silent about Adson's achievements. + +Gerard Langbaine tells us that Shirley left at his death some plays in +manuscript: I have little doubt, or rather no doubt at all, that Captain +_Underwit_ is one of them. In the notes I have pointed out several +parallelisms to passages in Shirley's plays; and occasionally we find +actual repetitions, word for word. But apart from these strong proofs, +it would be plain from internal evidence that the present piece is a +domestic comedy of Shirley's, written in close imitation of Ben Jonson. +All the characters are old acquaintances. Sir Richard Huntlove, who +longs to be among his own tenants and eat his own beef in the country; +his lady, who loves the pleasures of the town, balls in the Strand, and +masques; Device, the fantastic gallant,--these are well-known figures in +Shirley's plays. No other playwright of that day could have given us +such exquisite poetry as we find in Captain _Underwit_. The briskness, +too, and cleverness of the dialogue closely recall Shirley; but it must +be owned that there are few plays of Shirley's written with such +freedom, not to say grossness. + + + + +[CAPTAIN UNDERWIT, A COMEDY.] + + + +_Act the First_. + + + _Enter Captaine Underwit and his man Thomas_. + +_Un_. Come, my man _Thomas_, and my fathers old man _Thomas_; reioyce, +I say, and triumph: thy Master is honourable. + +_Tho_. Then wee are all made. + +_Un_. No, tis only I am made. + +_Tho_. What, and please your worship? + +_Un_. I am made a Captaine of the traind band,[214] _Thomas_, and this +is my Commission, this very paper hath made me a Captaine. + +_Tho_. Are you a paper Captaine, Sir? I thought more had gone to the +makeing up of a Captaine. + +_Un_. They are fooles that thinke so, provided he have the favour of the +Livetenant of the County. + +_Tho_. Which it seemes you have. + +_Un_. The honour of it is more then the thing, _Thomas_, since I did +not bribe the Secretarys steward or what servant else so ever hath the +government of his Lordship therein. + +_Tho_. This is very strange. + +_Un_. Not so much as transitorie wicker bottles to his Deputy +Livetenant, no fewell for his winter, no carriages for his summer, no +steple sugarloaves to sweeten his neighbours at Christmas, no robbing my +brave tennants of their fatt Capons or Chickens to present his worship +withall, _Thomas_. + +_Tho_. I cry your worship mercy, you sold him land the last terme; I had +forgott that. + +_Un_. I, that lay convenient for him. I us'd him like a gentleman and +tooke litle or nothing; 'twere pitty two or three hundred acres of dirt +should make friends fall out: we should have gone to fenceing schools. + +_Tho_. How, sir? + +_Un_. I meane to _Westminster_ hall, and let one another blood in Lawe. + +_Tho_. And so the Land has parted you? + +_Un_. Thou saist right, _Thomas_, it lies betweene both our houses +indeed. But now I am thus dignified (I thinke that's a good word) or +intituled is better, but tis all one; since I am made a Captaine-- + +_Tho_. By your owne desert and vertue. + +_Un_. Thou art deceavd; it is by vertue of the Commission,--the +Commission is enough to make any man an officer without desert; +_Thomas_, I must thinke how to provide mee of warlike accoutrements to +accomodate, which comes of Accomodo[215]: _Shakespeare_. The first, and +the first-- + +_Tho_. No, Sir, it comes of so much money disburs'd. + +_Un_. In troth, and it does, _Thomas_; but take out your table bookes +and remember to bring after me into the Country, for I will goe downe +with my father in law Sir _Richard_ this morning in the Coach,--let me +see--first and formost: a Buff Coate and a paire of breeches. + +_Tho_. First and formost: Item, a Buff Coate fox and a paire of breeches +of the same Cloth. + +_Un_. A paire of bootes and spurres, and a paire of shooes without +spurres. + +_Tho_. Spurres. + +_Un_. A paire of gray stockins, thick dapple gray stockins, with a belt, +to be worne either about my shoulder or about my wast. + +_Tho_. Wast. + +_Un_. A _London Dutch_ felt without a band, with a feather in't. + +_Tho_. Without a feather in't. + +_Un_. An old fox[216] blade made at _Hounsloe_ heath, and then all the +Bookes to be bought of warlike discipline, which the learned call +Tacticks. + +_Tho_. Ticktacks.[217]--If your worship would take my Counsell, +considering the league at _Barwick_[218] and the late expeditions, wee +may find some of these things in the North or else speake with some +reform'd Captaine, though he bee a Catholike; and it may bee wee may +have them at cheaper rates. + +_Un_. 'Tis true, Thomas: but I must change the lynings of the breeches, +for I love to bee cleanly. + +_Tho_. So you may, Sir; and have the fowling of them yourselfe. + +_Un_. Let me see: A leading staff-- + +_Tho_. A leaden staffe-- + +_Un_. A lead'ing staffe. + +_Tho_.--ding staffe. Why, a Cane is a leading staffe in a Captaines +hand. + +_Un_. But I must have tassells, _Thomas_, and such things. + +_Tho_. At the harnesse of the Carthorses there are tassells and Bells, +too, if you will. + +_Un_. Bells? What should I doe with em? + +_Tho_. Ring all your companie in. + +_Un_. Thou would'st make me a Captaine of a Morris dance. What serve the +phifes and Drumms for, prethee? + +_Tho_. But does your worship thinke you shall endure the bouncing of the +Gunns? I observed you ever kept a way of at the Musters. + +_Un_. Thou shalt therefore every morne goe a birding about the house to +inure me to the report. By that tyme thou hast kild all my pigeons I +shall endure the noise well enough. + +_Tho_. But, Sir, you must have a dry Nurse, as many Captaines have. Let +me see: I can hire you an old limping decayed Sergeant at _Brainford_ +that taught the boyes,--he that had his beard sing'd of at the last +Muster: hee'le doe it bravely. + +_Un_. What must he have? + +_Tho_. Alas, twenty pipes[219] of _Barmudas_ a day, six flagons of +March[220] beere, a quart of Sack in a weeke, for he scornes meate; and +the kitching wench to bring the shirt to him and the only band, for +Cuffs he gets none but such as his drunkennes procures him with +quarrelling. + +_Un_. No, I shall be bashfull to learne of a stranger, thou sha't goe +seeke out Captaine _Sackburye_. + +_Tho_. He that weares no money in his scarlett hose, and when he is +drunke is infected with Counsell? + +_Un_. The very same; you shall find him at his Lodging in _Fleetstreet_ +or in the next taverne. Give him this Letter; tell him I desire his +Companie this summer in the Country. He shall have a horse of mine, +say:--here, give him this gold, too. + +_Tho_. I hope it is gameing gold. + +_Un_. He shall read warres to me and fortification. + +_Tho_. I can teach you to build a sconce[221], sir. + +_Un_. Beside, he is very valiant; he beate me twice when he was drunk, +but, poore fellow, I ask'd him forgivenes the next day. Make hast, good +_Thomas_, and remember all the Tacticks. + +_Tho_. I warrant you, Sir: I know 'em well enough. [_Exit_. + +_Un_. So, so; here's Sir _Richard_. + + _Enter Sir Richrd Huntlove, his Ladie and Mistresse Dorothy_. + +_Sir Rich_. Me thinkes you looke more sprightly since you were made a +Captaine. + +_Un_. Oh, good Sir _Richard_, indeed my face is the worst part about mee; +and yet it will serve at the Muster. + +_Do_. Serve! With reverence to the title, I have seene a Generall with a +worse Countenance. It is a good leading face, and though you have no cut +ore the nose or other visible scarre, which I doubt not but you may +receave all in good tyme, it is a quarrelling face and fitt for a man of +warre. + +_Un_. I thanke you, sweet mistress _Dorothy_: I will commend you as much +when you are in the Countrey.--But doe you resolve to goe downe this +morning, Sir? + +_Sir Rich_. By all meanes: is your sister readie? bid the Coachman make +hast, and have a care you leave none of your trinketts behind: after a +little dialogue with my scrivenour Ile returne, and then to Coach. + +_Lady_. But why this expedition, this posting out of towne as the Aire +were infected? + +_Sir Rich_. The[222] truth is, my sweet Ladie, we have no Exchange in +the Country, no playes, no Masques, no Lord Maiors day, no gulls nor +gallifoists[223]. Not so many Ladies to visit and weare out my Coach +wheeles, no dainty Madams in Childbedd to set you a longing when you +come home to lie in with the same fashion'd Curtaines and hangings, such +curious silver Andirons, Cupbord of plate and pictures. You may goe to +Church in the Countrey without a new Satten gowne, and play at penny +gleeke[224] with a Justice of peaces wife and the parsons; show your +white hand with but one Diamond when you carve and not be asham'd to +weare your owne wedding ring with the old poesie. There are no Doctors +to make you sick wife; no legends of lies brought home by yong gallants +that fill my Dyning roome with fleas and new fashions, that will write +verses upon the handle of your fanne and comend the education of your +Monkey, which is so like their worships as they were all of one familie. +I have no humour to provokeing meates; I will downe and enter into a +Christian diett, Madam. There is sport in killing my owne partridge and +pheasant; my Trowtes will cost me less than your Lobsters and crayfish +drest with amber greece[225], and I may renew my acquaintance with +mutton and bold chines of beefe; entertaine my tenants, that would pay +for my housekeeping all the yeere and thanke my worship at Christmas, +over and above their rents, with Turkies and Beeves of supererogation. +You may guesse I have some reason to change the aire, wife, and so I +leave you to prepare your selfe: You have my purpose and may expect mee. + [_Exit_. + +_Lady_. However he may pretend, and point at charge +Which makes his stay unpleasant, 'tis his Jelousie +That strikes him into wildnes and dislike +Of all things here: he does not use mee well. +--Where is my sister? + +_Do_. In the Closet, Madam. +--I must waite upon my Ladie, sweete Captaine. + + [_Exeunt Lady & Dorothy_. + +_Un_. This Wench has a notable witt, if I have any Judgment: I doe not +thinke but shee's in love with me. If I thought shee were not given to +be with child I would examine her abilities; but these waiting women are +so fruitfull, when they have a good turne from a gentleman they have not +the vertue of concealment: touch a Chambermaide and take a Child, +--everything workes with their soluble bodies. + + _Enter Monsir Device_. + +_De_. Noble Mr. _Underwitt_! + +_Un_. I know not whome you meane, sir: he that comands the family in +chiefe, hath been honor'd with a sword and "rise Sir _Richard_" (who is +but my father in lawe[226] to a[nd?] by a former wife): for Mr. +_Underwitt_, whome to salute you humbled your Cloth a gold Dublet, I ken +not the wight. + +_De_. Doe not you know mee, noble Sir? + +_Un_. Upon even tearmes I may call your name to memorie, but if you +understand not my addition[227] it is honourable to forgett the best +friend I have. + +_De_. What's the mistry of this? Your addition? pray honour me to +know it. + +_Un_. He that was Mr. _Underwit_ is made a Captaine; you may, if you +please, take notice of his title. + +_De_. I beg your mercy, noble Captaine, and congratulate your addition +of honour. It was Ignorance which, I professe, made me salute you with a +wrong preface. Now, Capt., I shall bee proud to march under the ensigne +of your favour. + +_Un_. Friend _Device_, how does thy body? I am thy vassall; servant is +for porters, watermen & lacquies, & is no witt neither. You preserve +your tropes and your elegancies? What fancies doe adorne to-day? If I +were a Constable I might apprehend you for suspition you had robd a +pedlar. Does this thatchd cottage head hold still in fashion? What paid +you for this dead mans hair? Where's your night rail[228]? The last time +I saw you was in _Fleetstreet_, when at Complement and bare to an other +gentleman. I tooke him for a Barber and I thought you by the wide lynnen +about your neck [to] have been under correction in the suds[229], sir. + +_De_. Wee are govern'd by the Mode, as waters by the Moone; but there +are more changes in th'one than t'other. But does your Comand extend +to the Sea or the land service? + +_Un_. I never see the Sea in my life, sir, nor intend it. + +_De_. You are not the first Captaine that has seene no service: 'tis +time lost to travell for't when a man may bee a Comander at home. I +never traveld myselfe. + +_Un_. No, Sir? + +_De_. And yet I understand garbes, from the elevation of your pole to +the most humble galosh. + +_Un_. Can your hanches play well in these close cut breeches? they want +but a pummell to distinguish 'em from Trouses[230]. + +_De_. O sir, there is a perfect geometry in these breeches; you doe not +observe the morality of your fancie, nor the gentile play and poize of +your Lemon, Orange or Melon: this is gentry. Why, I understand all the +curiosities of the Mode to a Mathematicall point, and yet I never +travaild in all my life for't. + +_Un_. These are extraordinary parts. Alas, a Captaine has but fifty or a +hundred at most to looke after, and all they have not so much witt as +your _French_ Lacquey. And what need any travaile to instruct them? I +can teach them their motions by word of mouth: when they come to fight, +my Countrymen will retreate naturally. + + _Enter Ladie and her Sister_. + +_Lady_. Now in revenge could I bee rich, but that +I would not be a prisoner to my Chamber. +These superstitions will make women doe +Strange things sometymes. + +_Sis_. Of whome doe you thinke he should be jealous, sister? + +_Lady_. Of Duke _Eneas_ in the hanging. + +_Sis_. I hope he has no suspition of my servants, +That, under the pretence of formall Courtship +To mee, should ayme at his dishonour: there's +One that would weare my livery. + +_Lady_. _Device_? +Hang him, outside! no, my husband loves +His folly and would have him the state foole, +His garbes are so ridiculous. + +_Sis_. What opinion +(Still with a confidence of your cleere thoughts) +Holdes he of the Knight Sir _Francis Courtwell_, +That often visits us? + +_Lady_. Sure a Noble one, +If I may aske my Innocence; yet I find +Him very amorous. O my husband loves him; +He is a powerfull man at Court, whose friendship +Is worth preserving. Sister, I confesse +His nobleness and person hath prevaild +With mee to give him still the freest welcome +My modestie and honor would permitt; +But if I thought my husband had a scruple +His visits were not honourable, I +Should soone declare how much I wish his absence. + +_Un_. Your Mistresse and my Lady; I have some +Affaires require despatch, ile leave you to 'em. [_Exit_. + +_Sis_. My witty servant! + +_Lady_. Most pretious Alamode, Monsir _Device_! + +_De_. I blesse my lipps with your white handes. + +_Lady_. You come to take your leave as knowing by instinct wee have but +halfe an hour to stay. + +_Sis_. Wee are for the Countrey as fast as your _Flanders_ mares will +trott, sir. + +_De_. That's a Solecisme till the Court remove;--are you afraid of the +small pox? + +_Sis_. The less the better for a gentlewoman. + +_De_. And the greater more genty for a Cavallier. By this glove (a +pretty embroidery is't not?) you must not deprive us so soone of your +sweet presence. Why, there's a Ball to night in the _Strand_ and +tomorrow I had a purpose to waite upon you to the pictures; I ha' +bespoke regalias[231] there, too. There will be a new play shortly, +a pretty Comedy written by a profest Scholler: he scornes to take +money[232] for his witt, as the Poetts doe. + +_Lady_. He is Charitable to the Actors. + +_Sis_. It may be their repentance enough to play it. + +_De_. You must needs stay and give your opinion. +What will become of me when you are gon, Ladie? + +_Lady_. If your devotion catch not cold you may breath your _Barbary_ +and visit us, where you may be confident of your welcome. + +_De_. I dare as soone doubt I was Christned. But pray let us visit the +Exchange and take a trifle to weare for my sake before you goe. What +say, Madam? my owne Coach is at dore, the lyning is very rich and the +horses are very well matcht. + +_Lady_. Alas, wee expect upon my husbands returne to take Coach +imediatlie. + +_Sis_. But if wee see you in the Countrey you will doe us an honour? + +_De_. You invite me to my happines. I can play well o' the kittar; I +thinke your musique is but course there; wee'le have a Countrey dance +after supper and a song. I can talke loud to a Theorbo[233], too, and +thats cald singing. Now, yee shall heare my Ballet. + +_Sis_. Did you make a Ballet? + +_De_. Oh I, the greatest wit lies that way now; a pittifull Complaint of +the Ladies when they were banish'd the Towne[234] with their husbands to +their Countrey houses, compeld to change the deere delight of Maske and +Revells here for Wassail and windie bagpipes; instead of Silken Fairies +tripping in the Banquetting Roome, to see the Clownes sell fish in the +hall and ride the wild mare, and such Olimpicks, till the ploughman +breake his Crupper, at which the Villagers and plumporidge men boile +over while the Dairy maid laments the defect of his Chine and he, poore +man, disabled for the trick, endeavours to stifle the noise and company +with perfume of sweat instead of Rose water. + +_Lady_. This must be our Countrey recreation, too! + + _Enter Sir Francis Courtwell_. + +_De_. Who is this? + +_Lady_. 'Tis Sir _Francis Courtwell_; +You cannot choose but know him.--This must bee +A favour, Sir, to visit us at parting. + +_Sir Fr_. I came with other expectation, Madam, +Then to heare this: I could receave no newes +So unwelcome. What misfortune doth conclude +The Towne so unhappie? + +_Lady_. 'Tis my husbands pleasure, +Affrighted with some Dreame he had last night; +For I can guess no other cause. + +_Sir Fr_. Could hee +Bee capable of fright and you so neere him? + +_De_. He cannot choose but know me then.--Sir, I kisse your noble hand +and shall be stellified in your knowledge. + +_Sir Fr_. What thing's this that looks so like a race Nagg trick'd with +ribbands? + +_Sis_. He is one of my inamoratos, Sir; +They call him Mounsir _Device_. + +_Sir Fr_. Lady, your faire excuse.--He has, it seemes, +Some confidence to prevaile upon your liking +That he hath bought so many Bride laces. + +_Sis_. You may interpret him a walking mirth. + +_Sir Fr_. He moves upon some skrues and may be kinsman +To the engine that is drawne about with Cakebread, +But that his outside's brighter. + +_De_. Sir _Francis Courtwell_. + +_Sir Fr_. That's my name, Sir. + +_De_. And myne Mounsieur _Device_. + +_Sir Fr_. A _Frenchman_ Sir? + +_De_. No, sir; an _English_ Monsier made up by a _Scotch_ taylor that +was prentice in _France_. I shall write my greatest ambition satisfied +if you please to lay your Comands upon mee. + +_Sir Fr_. Sweet lady, I beseech you mussell your beagle; I dare not +trust my selfe with his folly, and he may deserve more beating then I am +willing to bestow at this tyme. + +_Sis_. Take truce a little, servant. + +_Sir Fr_. Will you consider, Madam, yet how much +A wounded hart may suffer? + +_Lady_. Still the old businesse; +Indeede you make me blush, but I forgive you +If you will promise to sollicite this +Unwelcome cause no more. + +_Sir Fr_. 'Tis my desire; +I take no pleasure in a pilgrimage. +If you instruct a nearer way, 'tis in +Your will to save your eare the trouble of +My pleading, Madam, if with one soft breath +You say I'me entertain'd; but for one smile +That speakes consent you'le make my life your servant. + +_Lady_. My husband, Sir-- + +_Sir Fr_. Deserves not such a treasure to himselfe +And starve a noble servant. + +_Lady_. You but pleade +For vanitie: desist, for if I could +(Forgetting honour and my modestie) +Allow your wild desires, it were impossible +That wee should meete more then in thought and shadowes. + +_Sir Fr_. If these shadowes, Madam, be but darke enough, +I shall account it happines to meet you. +But referr that to opportunitie, +Which our kind starrs in pitty will sooner offer +To both our ioyes. + +_Lady_. But he is very Jealous. + +_Sir Fr_. That word assures my victorie; I never +Heard any wife accuse her husband of +Or cold neglect or Jealousie, but she had +A confirm'd thought within to trick his forehead-- +It is but Justice, Madam, to reward him +For his suspitious thoughts. + +_Lady_. D'ee thinke it fitt +To punish his suspition yet perswade +To act the sinne he feares? + +_Sir Fr_. Custome and nature make it less offence +In women to comitt the deed of pleasure +Then men to doubt their chastity; this flowing +From poison'd natures, that excus'd by fraielty. +Yet I have heard the way to cure the scare +Has bin the deed; at truth the scruples vanish. +I speake not, Madam, with a thought to suffer +A foule breath whisper your white name; for he +That dares traduce it must beleeve me dead, +Or my fame twisted with your honour must not +Have pitty on the Accusers blood. + +_Device_. I will attend you in the Countrey; +I take my leave and kiss your ivory hand; +Madam, and yours. Sir _Francis_, your obliged. + [_Exit_. + +_Sir Fr_. You bless me with this promise. +--How can you, lady, suffer this impertinent +Afflict you thus? + [_Ex. Lad_. + +_Sis_. Alas, my parrat's dead and he supplies the prattle: ith' spring +and fall he will save me charge of phisick in purgeing Melancholy. + +_Sir Fr_. If you dare +Accept a servant, Ladie, upon my +Comends, I should present a kinsman t'ee +Who sha'not want a fortune nor, I hope, +A meritt to possesse your faire opinion. + +_Sis_. You doe not say he is hansome all this while, and that's a maine +consideration. I wod not have a man so tall as a Mast, that I must clyme +the shroudes to kisse him, nor so much a dwarfe that I must use a +multiplying glass to know the proportion of his limbes. A great man is a +great house with too much garret and his head full of nothing but +lumber: if he be too round agen hees only fitt to be hung upp in a +Christall glasse. The truth is the man I love must please me at first +sight; if he take my eye I may take more tyme to examine his talent. + +_Sir Fr_. Do you but grace him with accesse and aske your owne fancie, +Ladie, how you can affect him. Ile not despaire if he were cur'd of +modesty, which is the whole fault in his behaviour; but he may passe +without contempt. + +_Do_. That modestie is a foule fault. + + _Enter Captaine Underwitt_. + +_Un_. Come away, Cosen; Sir _Richard's_ come and calls for you; the +Coachman is ready to mount. Noble Sir _Richard_, because you may not +loose breath, you may call me a Captaine, please you, a Captaine o' the +train'd band. + +_Sis_. 'Tis very certaine. + +_Sir Fr_. I congratulate your title, Sir. + +_Un_. If you come into the Countrey you shall see me doe as much with my +leading staff as another. + +_Sir Fr_. You wonot thrash your men? + +_Un_. If I did 'tis not the first time I ha thrash'd. If I find my +Souldiers tractable they shall find me but a reasonable Captaine. + + _Enter Sir Richard [and] Lady_. + +_Sir Rich_. Sir _Francis_, I am sorrie the violence of my affaires wonot +let me entertaine you to my wishes. Pray honour us with your presence in +the Countrey, if you can dispence with your employments, when I shall +satisfie for this haste of my departure. + +_Sir Fr_. I shall attend you, Sir, and present a kinsman of mine to this +virgin Ladie: he is like to be Master of no narrow fortune. It was my +busines at this tyme only to prepare his accesse. + +_Sir Rich_. He shall have my vote for your sake, Sir _Francis_. Come, +Madam. + +_Sir Fr_. Ile waite upon you to the Coach and take my leave. + +_Un_. Sweet Mistresse _Doritye_. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + + +_Act the Second_. + + + _Enter Captaine Sackburie, reading a Letter, and Thomas_. + +_Capt_. Hum--hum--Where's the gold? + +_Tho_. Here, Sir; one, two, three, fowre, and five. + +_Cap_. Thou hast learnd the Cinque pace[235], _Tho_: is the gold weight? + +_Tho_. I hope so, Sir. + +_Cap_. Hum--into the Country;--thou hast a horse, too? + +_Tho_. Not about me, Sir, but he is ready, all but brideling and +sadling, at our Inne, Captaine. My master sayes you shalbe troubled with +no horse but his. + +_Cap_. Why, is he lame? + +_Tho_. What? _Truehunt_, the black nag with three white feete? he lame? +You meane that I ride upon my selfe. + +_Cap_. Hum,--'make hast as you will preserve the reputation of your true +friend and servant:'--so, so--Comend me to him, _Thomas_; I wonot faile +to visit him. + +_Tho_. You may demand the Nag, if you ask for _Humfrey_ the Ostler, by +the same token he has bin there this foure dayes and had but one peck of +provender. + +_Cap_. Enough I wonot faile, I say. Farewell, honest _Tom a +Lincolne_, farewell: comend me to the traind band. + +_Tho_. Pray doe not fall a drinking and forgett it: bu'oy[236], noble +Captaine. + [_Exit_. + + _Enter Mr. Courtwell_. + +_Cap_. My expectation of the Lawz well mett! + +_Cou_. I am glad to see you, Captaine. + +_Cap_. Is thy sight perfect? +Thy poring upon statutes and booke cases +Makes me suspecte. But dost thou thinke to bee +A Dominus factotum on the Bench, +And be a Civill Lawyer? + +_Cou_. You are merry. + +_Cap_. Tis more then thou hast been this twelvemonth: th'ast +Lost thy Complexion with too much study. +Why, thou shalt be an heire and rule the rost +Of halfe a shire, and thy father would but Dye once; +Come to the Sizes with a band of Janisaries +To equall the Grand Signor, all thy tenants, +That shall at their owne charge make themselves fine +And march like Cavaliers with tilting feathers, +Gaudy as _Agamemnons_[237] in the play: +After whome thou, like _St. George_ a horseback +Or the high Sheriff, shall make the Cuntrey people +Fall downe in adoration of thy Crooper +And silver stirrup, my right worshipfull. +A pox a buckram and the baggage in't! +Papers defil'd with Court hand and long dashes, +Or Secretarie lines that stradle more +Then _Frenchmen_ and lesse wholsome to the Client. +Is thy head to be fild with Proclamations, +Rejoynders and hard words beyond the _Alchemist_[238]? +Be ruld, and live like a fine gentleman +That may have haukes and hounds and whores and horses, +And then thou art fitt Companie. + +_Cou_. You talke wildlie; +I wou'd you saw your Errour that place all +Your happinesse upon such course delights. +I should degenerate too much and forfet +My education. + +_Cap_. Education! he has gott a tune: +I doe not thinke but thou wilt leave thy law +And exercise thy talent in composeing +Some treatises against long haire and drinking +That most unchristian weed yclipt tobacco; +Preach to the puisnes[239] of the Inne sobrietie, +And abstinence from shaveing of lewd Baylies +That will come shortlie to your Chamber doores +And there with reverence entreat your worships +Come forth and be arrested,--precious tappoles! +I wo'd not willingly despaire of thee, +For thy Lands sake and cause I am thy Countreyman. +One generous Vagarie, and thou wer't wise, +Would breake somebodies hart within a sennight, +And then th'art Lord of all. Have but the grace +To dine wo' mee at taverne and ile tell +Thy friends there is some hope. + +_Cou_. My friends? + +_Cap_. Thy father's +In _Essex_: if he live heele purchase _Romford_; +If he die sooner then the towne's our owne; +Spend but an acre a day and thou maist live +Till all the world be wearie of thee. Betweene +Us two, what thincke you of a wench? + +_Cou_. Nothing. + +_Cap_. You meane one wench betweene us two is nothing. +I know a hundred Leverets[240], things that will +Bound like a dancer on the rope and kiss thee +Into thy naturall complexion: +A sinner that shall clime thee like a squirrell. + +_Cou_. And crack me like a Nutt. I ha no kernell +To spare for her sweet tooth. + +_Cap_. That was a metaphor: hee's not desperate! + +_Cou_. Buoy, my deere Captaine. + +_Cap_. Wy, farewell, Countreyman: +I may live yet to witnes thy conversion. [_Exit_. + + _Enter a Footeman_. + +_Cou_. How does my uncle? + +_Fo_. He desires presentlie +To speake with you at his lodging. + +_Cou_. Ile attend him. + + [_Exit_. + + + +[SCENE 2.] + + + _Enter Captaine Underwit and Thomas_. + +_Un_. And hast thou been carefull of all those things I gave charge +to be provided? + +_Tho_. There is a note of the particulars. + +_Un_. Tis very well done, _Thomas_.--Let me see: Imprimis-- + +_Tho_. The Captaine wonot faile to be w'ee, sir. He was not at his +lodging; and inquiring at the _Horne_ tavern, I heard he had been there +with two or three Cittizens that ow'd him mony. + +_Un_. That he owde mony to. + +_Tho_. Tis all one, I thinke, Sir; for when Captaines have not pay, the +creditors may pay themselves. Here they said he did mollifie the hart of +the haberdashers and dranke himselfe a little mellowe ere they parted, +which gave me some hope I might find him ere night at the _Divell_, +where indeed I fetcht him out of the fire and gave him your Letter. + +_Un_. And the gold too? + +_Tho_. That was the first word he read; if you did not write it in text +he could not have found it out so soone. His eye was no sooner in the +inside but his arme flew out with an open mouth and his very fingers +cryed "give me the gold"! which presumeing to be weight he put in his +hocas pocas, a little dormer under his right skirt; and so takeing his +word to come downe and turning over your horse to him, with caution not +to be drunk and forgett your worship, I tooke my leave and went about +my Inventorie. + +_Un_. Theis things are very right, _Thomas_. Let me see now the bookes +of Martiall discipline. + +_Tho_. I bought up all that I found have relation to warr and fighting. + +_Un_. That was weldone.--Item: _The Sword Salve_. + +_Tho_. This I conceiv'd to have the vertue of _Achilles_ speare: if you +bee hurt you need goe no further then the blade for a Surgeon. + +_Un_. The _Buckler of Faith_. + +_Tho_. You had the sword before, Sir. + +_Un_. A _Booke of Mortification_. + +_Tho_. I, Sir, that is a kind of killing which I thought very necessary +for a Captaine. + +_Un_. Item: the _Gunpowder Treason_ and the _Booke of Cannons_. + +_Tho_. I wod not lett any shott scape mee. + +_Un_. _Shakespeares_ Workes.--Why _Shakespeares_ Workes? + +_Tho_. I had nothing for the pikemen before. + +_Un_. They are plays. + +_Tho_. Are not all your musterings in the Countrey so, Sir? Pray, +read on. + +_Un_. _Bellarmines Controversie_ in six tomes. + +_Tho_. That I took upon the Stationers word, who had been a pretty +Schollar at Paules; for the word _Bellarmine_, he said, did comprehend +warr, weapons and words of defiance. Ill words provoke men to draw their +sword, and fighting makes an end of the busines; and all this is +controversy. Pray, goe on, Sir. + +_Un_. Two paire of Tables.--Tables for what? + +_Tho_. Oh, sir, for ticktack. You know it was in my note, which though I +doubted at first, yet considering you were newly made a Cap: I conceiv'd +it was fitt you should learne to sett and or[d]er your men. + +_Un_. Tacticks, man: thou didst mistake, they are bookes of warre. + +_Tho_. You cannot know these from bookes as they are painted, +I warrant you. + +_Un_. Why, dost thou thinke theis will make a Souldier? + +_Tho_. Not of themselves, Sir, and therefore I provided: please you +read on, Sir. + +_Un_. _Parsons Resolutions_ and _Felthams Resolves_[241]. + +_Tho_. All is nothing I knew, Sir, without resolution. + +_Un_. Summa totalis three and twenty poundes nyneteene shillings and +sevenpence.--Thou hast undone mee. + +_Tho_. If you doe not like the pennyworths tis but the charges of my +selfe and a horse agen to _London_. I will lose but the three odd pounds +19s and 7d: it may be you doe not understand these Authors: when the +Captaine comes he will expound 'em to you. + +_Un_. What a Coxcombe have I to my man! but I dare not be angry with +him. Well, carry 'em into my study, _Thomas_. + + [_Ext. Tho_. + + _Enter Device_. + +_De_. Most honor'd Captaine. + +_Un_. My compleat Monsier _Device_, this is a grace to us. You come to +visit your Mistres my Cosen. As if by instinct she had knowledge of your + [_Enter Ladie and Sister, & Dorothy_. +approach, she is come to meet you.--Shall I never get opportunitie with +that shee waiter! If I gett her with Child my man _Thomas_ shall marry +her. + + _Enter Thomas_. + +_Tho_. Sir, the Captaine is new alighted. + +_Un_. Gett a bottle of sack up to my Chamber presently. + + [_Ext. [Underwit & Thomas_. + +_La_. You are a gentleman of your word. + +_Sis_. And such a gentleman is to be trusted, Madam. + +_De_. He is an Infidell that will breake his word with a Ladie. + +_Sis_. I suspect, servant, you have many Mistresses. + +_De_. Not I, by this white hand. I must acknowledge there are some +Ladies in the Court in whose eyes and opinion I am favour'd. I cannot +obscure my selfe from their observation; but my heart with contempt of +all other endeerement is only devoted to your service. + +_Sis_. Is't not a charge to dresse your selfe with such variety of +Ribbands every day? + +_De_. Is that your scruple? Tis the Mode to express our fancie upon +every occasion; to shew the turne and present state of our hope or +feares in our Affection. Your colours to an understanding Lover carry +the interpretation of the hart as plainely as wee express our meaning +one to another in Characters. Shall I decipher my Colours to you now? +Here is Azure and Peach: Azure is constant, and Peach is love; which +signifies my constant Affection. + +_Sis_. This is very pretty. + +_De_. Oh, it saves the trouble of writing, where the Mistres and Servant +are learned in this amorous blazon. Yesterday I wore Folimort, Grisdelin +and Isabella: Folimort is withered, Grisdelin is absent, and Isabella is +beauty, which put together express I did wither or languish for your +absent beautie. + +_Sis_. But is there any reason for theis distinctions? + +_De_. Yes, Lady: for example, your Follimort is a withred leafe, which +doth moralise a decay: your yellow is joy, because-- + +_La_. Why, yellow, Sir, is Jealous. + +_De_. No, your Lemon colour, a pale kind of yellow, is Jealous; your +yellow is perfect joy. Your white is Death, your milke white inocence, +your black mourning, your orange spitefull, your flesh colour +lascivious, your maides blush envied, your red is defiance, your gold is +avaritious, your straw plenty, your greene hope, your sea greene +inconstant, your violet religious, your willow forsaken. + +_Sis_. We may then comitt a solecisme and be strangely interpreted by +such curious expounders in the rash election and wearing of our colours, +I p[er]ceave. + +_La_. Tis pitty but there should be some bookes for our instruction in +this art. + +_De_. Your Hierogliphick was the _Egiptian_ wisdome, your _Hebrew_ was +the Cabala, your _Roman_ had your Simball or impresse; but they are now +obsolete, your embleme trite and conspicuous, your invention of +Character and Alphabeticall key tedious and not delightfull, your motto +or rebus too open and demonstrative: but the science and curiosity of +your Colours in Ribbands is not only instructive but an ornament and the +nearest Comentator of Love; for as Love is entertain'd first by the eye, +or, to speake more plaine, as the object affected is tooke in first by +these opticks which receive the species of the thing colord & +beautifide, so it is answerable to nature that in the progresse of our +passion we should distinguish by our eye the change or constancy of our +affections in apt and significant colours. + +_Sis. _You have tooke paines to study this learn'd heraldry. + +_De_. It is the onely gentile knowledge or philosophie in the world. I +will undertake to open any man or womans hart. + +_La_. Heaven forbid! + +_De_. Tell the most secret imaginations and designes conclude every +passion and scruple, if they be carefull to observe the artificiall +method of their colours. + +_Sis_. Why, this may be a way of fortune telling too. + +_De_. You say right, Lady: phisiognomy and chiromancy are but trifles; +nay, your geomancie meere coniecturall, the execution of your schemes +circumstantiall and fallible, but your quaint alamode weare of your +fancie more then astrologicall. + +_La_. Tis a kind of Divinitie. + +_De_. You say very true, Madam, and comes neere to propheticall if the +minds of Ladies and gentlemen were elevated to the just and sublime +consideration. + +_Sis_. What paines he takes to be ridiculous! + +_Do_. This gentleman has a notable fancie and talkes poetically. + +_Sis_. Yes, yes; he can write verses. + +_Do_. Well, I have read Authors in my dayes and knew the length of the +poets in my tyme too, which was an hexameter and which a pentameter, but +the wits are not as they have been--right and straite. + +_Sis_. Why, _Doroty_? + +_Do_. Why, because wind is the cause of many things; now if the wind bee +not in the right corner tis the ill wind our proverbe speakes of that +blowes nobodie good; for when vapors and wind flie into the head it +cannot be in two places at one time: and that's the reason your men of +most wit doe seldome love a woman.--But here comes my Master and Sir +_Francis_. + + _Enter Sir Richard and Sir Francis, and Mr. Courtwell_. + +_Ri_. This is a double honour to us, _Sir Francis_. I shall want +language, but not a friendly hart to entertaine you and your noble +kinsman. What my exquisite Cavalier _Device_!--tis to no purpose I see +to remove into the Countrey to save charges and be quiet; the whole +Citty will come hither if I stay. I have no stomack to my kn't. + +_Fra_. I hope, madam, you will be no enemy to my kinsman. + +_Ri_. Sister, I present this gentleman; observe and cherish him; he has +been i'th Universitie. + +_Sis_. Any degree, Sir? + +_Co_. Onely Bachelour, forsooth! + +_Ri_. If he winne you to marriage, Lady quicksilver-- + +_Sis_. He wilbe Master of his Art. + +_Ri_. My vote is for him. + +_De_.--I like not the induction of this rivall. + +_Ri_. He studies now the law, +And thats the high way to preferment, Sister. + +_Sis_. Indeed it is the high way in which some +Deliver up their purses. He may clime +To scarlet, but that he has too good a face. + +_De_. Sir, I hope-- + +_Ri_. Troth, do not, Sir,--I meane, trouble yourselfe: +He is too bashfull to prevaile upon +Your spirited mistres! + + _Enter Mr. Engine_. + +_En_. Sir _Richard_. + +_Ri_. More customers? Mr. _Engine_, welcome; +Your presence was unexpected in the Countrey. + +_En_. Twas my ambition with some intents +To serve you, sir. Please you vouchsafe your privacie, +I bring Affaires are worth your entertainement: +I have rid hard. + +_Cou_. What Cavallier's this, Uncle? + +_Fra_. He is the inventor of new proiects, cosen, +They say, and patents; one that lives like a moth +Upon the Common wealth. + +_Cou_. He lookes like one. + +_Ric_. You will excuse me, gentlemen.--Make much of Sir _Francis_, Madam. + + _Ext. [Sir Richard and Engine_. + +_Fra_. Weele leave my Nephew and your sister, Madam, +And take a turne i'th garden. + +_Sis_. You may be confident. + + [_Exeunt Sir Francis, Lady, and Dorothy_. + +_De_.--I doe not like the fancie in his hat; +That gules is warre and will be ominous. + + _Ext. [Device_. + +_Sis_. The gentleman's turnd statue! blesse me how +He staires upon me and takes roote, I thinke. +It mooves, and now to earth is fixt agen; +Oh, now it walkes and sadly marches this way. +Is't not a ghost? heele fright me. Oh, sweet sir, +Speake if you can and say who murderd you. +It points at me: my eyes? ungentle eyes +To kill so at first sight! Ile have my lookes +Arraigned for't and small _Cupid_ shall be judg, +Who for your sake will make me blind as he is. + +_Co_. Ladie-- + +_Sis_. The man's alive agen and has +A tongue! discretion guide it; he but sent +His soule forth of an arrand; tis returnd, +Now wee shall have some sentences. + +_Co_. Such are the strange varieties in love, +Such heates, such desperate coldes,-- + +_Sis_. No more winter, and you love me, unlesse you can command the +colepits; we have had a hard tyme on't already for want of fuell. + +_Co_. I'me all turnd eares and, Lady, long to heare you, +But pressing to you doubt I am too neare you. +Then I would speake, but cannot; nought affordes +Expression, th'Alphabet's too poore for wordes: +He that knowes Love knowes well that every hower +Love's glad, Love's sad, Love's sweet-- + +_Sis_. And sometymes sower. Theis wordes would goe well to a tune; pray +letts heare you sing. I doe not thinke but you can make me a ioynture of +fower nobles a yeare in Balletts, in lamentable balletts; for your wit I +thinke lies tragicall. Did you make the _Ladies Downefall_[242]. +You expresse a passion rarely, but pray leave +Your couplets and say something in blanck verse +Before you goe. + +_Co_. Before I goe? breath not that killing language: +There is no sunne but in your eyes, and when +I once take leave of those celestiall beames +I meet with darkenes in my habitation; +Where stretch'd on sable ground I downe shall lay +My mournefull body, and with folded Armes +Heare sadder noats uppon the _Irish_ harpe[243] +And drop division with my brinish teares.[244] + +_Sis_. This must be lamentable musick sure! + +_Co_. But I have found an art to cure this wound, +For I with fancies pencill will so draw +Your picture in the table of my hart, +Your absence shall but like darke shadowes stand +To sett you of and see you, Lady, better +Then Love will lett me when I looke upon you. + +_Sis_. Could this be true and meant, sweet sir, to me, +I should be kinder then the gentlest spring +That warms the world and makes fierce beasts so tame +And trees to swell themselves to cheerefull greene; +More jocund then the proudest quire of birds, +What ere they be that in the woods so wide +Doe sing their merry catches.--Sure he does +But counterfeit. + +_Co_. Oh, now I see that Love +Is sweet as flowers in their fragrant birth, +Gentle as silke, and kind as Cloudes to Earth? + +_Sis_. One rime more and you undoe my love for ever. Out upon't! pedlars +_French_[245] is a Christian language to this. I had rather you should +put me a case out of _Litleton_. They say you are a pretty Lawyer. + +_Co_. Tenant[246] per la Curtesie d'Engleterre est, hon home prent feme +seisie in fee simple ou en fee taile generall, ou seisie come +heire de la taile speciall et ad issue per mesme la fame, male ou +female, oies ou wife, soit lissue apres mort ou en vie si la feme de +aie, la baron tiendra la terre durant sa vie, per la ley dengleterre. + +_Sis_. Nay, here's enough a Conscience! What a Noise this confusion of +languages make; tis almost as good as a beare baiting. Harke you, Sir, +you are never like to recover me by law. + +_Co_. You are not the first sweet Ladie has been overthrowne at +Common Lawe. + +_Sis_. Not by tenn thousand, Sir. Confest: but I have no mind to come to +issue with a Lawyer; when he should consider my cause at home, heele be +at _Westminster_, teaching men the Statutes. No, no, I wo'not marry a +Judge. + +_Co_. Why, Lady? + +_Sis_. They are casuall things and men that hold such strange opinions. + +_Co_. Lady, you may be misinform'd: _Astraea_ +Hath not quite left the earth, and the abuses +Of some which shame the calling are but like +Patches of beauty on the shape of lawe +To set the whitenes of. + +_Sis_. Farewell, Sir: +You are in love with a barrd gown, not beauty; +If you will be my learned Counsell, leave it +--This yong thing is a foole or a fine fellow. [_Exit_. + +_Co_. She kicks and flings out like a Colt unwayed; +Her witt's a better portion then her money; +I would not love her yet, and I could help it.-- +My Uncle and his Mistres: Ile not hinder em. + + [_Ex_. + + + +[SCENE 3.] + + + _Enter Sir Francis and Ladie_. + +_La_. It is no honour, Sir, if arm'd with so +Much eloquence you overcome a woman. +I blush to say I love you now too much; +I wish you would release what your sweet charmes +Won from my tongue; I shall repent my promise. + +_Fra_. Make me not miserable after so much blessing. +Why, Madam, tis on honourable tearmes, +Since not upon the first attempt but after +A tedious seige in to your faire love you give up +What shall enrich us both. It were a sinne +To feare you can retract what both our lipps +Have seal'd, and loose a happines so neare +And so secure. Your husband holds his pleasure +Of early hunting constant, and when he +Pursues the tymerous hare to morrow morne, +_Cupid_ will waite to bring me to _Elizium_, +Your bed, where every kisse shall new create us. + +_La_. You must be wise in your excuse, to quit +His importunitie. + +_Fra_. Leave that to me: +I weare not worth the name of him that serv'd you +To loose my glorious hope for want of such +A thinne device. In your thought wish me prosper, +And I am fortifide against the power +Of fate to seperate us; and when thou art +Within the amorous circle of my armes, +We will make lawes to love; teach him new motion +Or chaine[247] him with the cordage of his haire, +Like a tame thing, to walke, and watch our pillow +And be our pleasures Centinell. + +_La_. I see +My husband; tis not safe he should observe us: +Be wise and constant. [_Exit Lady_. + +_Fra_. All that's sweet attend thee. +So I am sailing now to my owne _Indies_, +And see the happie Coast, too: How my wings +Doe spread to catch the wind which comes to court 'em, +And the green Sea, enamour'd on my barke, +Doth leap to see how _Cupid_ sitts at helme. +And steeres my soule to his new world. + + _Enter Sir Richard and Engine_. + +_Ri_. A monopolie say you +For Perriwigs? + +_En_. Is't not a rare designe? and by such art +And reasons I can name, most beneficiall +To the common wealth, preventing the diseases +Which some unwholsome haire breeds in mens heads, +It will be worth our agitation, Sir; +And you, after the rate of every thousand +Per Annum milk'd out of the comon purse +Into your owne, may easily defaulke +To me a hundred for my first projection. +Did I not love you, Sir, I could make choice +Of other able men that would be glad +To multiplie their money. + +_Ri_. Sir, I thanke you, +But have no mind to thrive upon abuse of +My princes favour nor the peoples curse. +Here is a gentleman, Sir _Francis Courtwell_, +Perhapps will undertake it. + +_Fra_. What, Sir _Richard_? + +_Ri_. A Monopolie for composeing and selling of perriwiggs. + +_Fra_. Excuse me, Sir, I dare not deale in 'em. +If I be not mistaken, Sir, your name +Is _Engine_? + +_En_. Yes, Sir. + +_Fra_. The proiector generall? +If I may advise you, Sir, you should make your will, +Take some convenient phisick and dye tymely +To save your credit, and an execution: +It is thought else-- + +_En_. Oh-- + +_Fra_. What aile you, Sir? + +_En_. A Megrim in my head. + +_Ri_. Whoes there? + + _Enter Thomas_. + +Looke to Mr. _Engine_ heere, he faints, and send +To your Ladie for some Cordiall waters presently. + +_Tho_. There is a Soveraigne Well hard by has done +Strange cures: please you, ile throw him into that. + _Ext. [Thomas; carrying away Engine_. + +_Ri_. Though I distast his busines I wod not +He should miscarry here; you frighted him. +But come, I thinke tis supper tyme, Sir _Francis_. +I shall expect youle hunt with me i'th morning; +I have a pack of Doggs sent me will make +The Forrest ring. + +_Fra_. Ile cheerefully attend you, +I love the sport; as earlie as you please, Sir. + +_Ri_. I wish wee had all pleasures to delight you, +But no thing wants in my true love to serve you. + +_Fra_.--Yet I must cuckold him; I cannot helpe it. + + + + +_Act the Third_. + + + _Enter Thomas with Sir Richards bootes_. + +_Tho_. Sir. + +_Within Ri_. Whoes that? _Thomas_? + +_Tho_. The sun is up before you. Here be your bootes. + +_Ri_. That's well. + +_Within La_. I preethe donot rise yet; it is hardly day. Sirra, who bid +you call him so earlie? Sir _Richard_ wonot rise yet. + +_Tho_. I cannot helpe it, it is none of my fault. + +_La_. Wheres _Doroty_? + + [_Enter Doroty_. + +_Do_. Here, Madam; what make you up so soone, _Thomas_? + +_Tho_. O Mistres _Dority_, tis e'ne long of you, for betweene sleepe +and awake your remembrance came to me this morning, and _Thomas_ was +up presently. + + _Enter Sir Richard [& Lady]_. + +_Ri_. You must excuse me, wife; +I meane to kill a brace of hares before +You thinke tis day. Come, on with my Bootes, _Thomas_; +And _Dorothy_ goe you to Sir _Francis_ Chamber, +Tell him the Day growes old and I am readie, +Our horses and the merry hounds expect us. + +_La_. Any excuse to leave me. + +_Ri_. You may take +Your ease a bed still, Madam. Ile not loose +One morning that invites so pleasantly, +To heare my Doggs, for a new Maidenhead, I. +Twas for these sports and my excess of charge +I left the towne: besides the Citty foggs +And steame of Brick hills almost stifled me; +This Aire is pure and all my owne. + +_Tho_. My Ladie +Meanes shee would have you gett another heire, +Sir, for your lands; though it be against my Master +The young Captaine, yet she speakes but reason. +And now I talke o'th Captaine, Sir, +Would you had given him Counsell. + +_Ri_. To what? + +_Tho_. Before he tooke this huffing[248] trade upon him, +To have been a man of peace, I meane a Justice. +Nature has made him fit for both alike. +Hee's now at charge to keepe a Captaine Schoolemaster; +He might have sav'd the qua[r]teridge of his Tutor +If I had been his Clarke: and then the income +That broken heads bring in, and new yeares guifts +From soder'd virgins and their shee provintialls +Whose warren must be licenc'd from our office! + +_Ri_. Away you prating knave.-- + + [_Enter Dorothy_. + +What? is he readie? + +_Do_. Alas, hee's almost dead. + +_Ri_. How? dead? + +_Do_. He has been troubled with a fitt o'th stone, +Sir, all this night. Sweet gentleman he groanes, +And sweates, and cannot-- + +_Ri_. What? + +_Do_. Make urine, Sir. + +_Tho_. I heard my Ladie has an excellent +Receit to cure the Stone; she is a peece +Of a rare Surgeon. + +_Ri_. Well, away and get the horses readie, sirra, +For I shall ride you and your witt together. + +_Tho_. Alas, any foole may ride me, but I would +faine see any man ride Mistres _Dorothy_. + +_Do_. How, sirra? + [_Exit Thomas_. + +_Ri_. I am sorry I must leave such a Companion. +But more lament the cause. I wish him health; +My presence cannot serve him. Morrow, wife: +I cannot lose my sport. [_Exit_. + +_Do_. Nor shee when you are gone. +My Lady does expect another hunt's up. + +_La_. Now I must trust thy secresie. + +_Do_. You shall not doubt me, Madam, and t'assure you +My faith, I have a suit to your Ladiship +Whose grant, were there no other bonds upon me, +Would tye me everlastinglie to silence. + +_La_. What ist? but name, and I shall soone confirme thee. + +_Do_. Our Captaine o'th traind band has been offring +To chaffer Maidenheads with me. I must +Confesse I can affect the foole upon +Good tearmes, and could devise a plott to noose +My amorous woodcock, if you privatlie +Assist me and dare trust me with some Jewell +Of price, that is not knowne, which shalbe faithfully +Restor'd Madam. + +_La_. I that dare trust my honour with thee sha'not +Suspect thy faith in any treasure else. +But prethe draw the Curtains close, while I +Expect this friend: I needes must hide my blushes. +Thou maist discover from the Gallory windowe +When they are hors'd. I tremble to consider +What I have promis'd. + +_Do_. Tremble to meet a Ghost! +You are more fearefull then a Virgin, Madam. +Why this setts me a longing; but ile watch: +This is the timerous world of flesh and blood. + [_Exit_. + + _Enter Sir Richard_. + +_La. within_. Alas! +What doe you meane? retire for heavens sake! +My husband is not gone, I heare his voice yet; +This rashnes will undoe my fame for ever +Should he returne. + +_Ri_. How's this? +"Returne for heavens sake! my husband is not gone: +I heard his voice; this will undoe my fame!" +It was my wife, and this is sure my bed chamber. + +_La_. (_looking forth_.) I have undone my selfe; it is my husband. + +_Ri_. My forehead sweats: Where are you, Madam? +Whome did you talke too or take me for? ha! Asleepe +Alreadie, or doe I dreame? I am all wonder. +Madam,-- + +_La_. You may kill him and please you, sweet heart; +I cannot abide a Blackamore. + +_Ri_. How's this, wife? + +_La_. Helpe, helpe, deare husband, strangle him with one +Of my Lute strings; doe, doe, doe. + +_Ri_. If shee be a sleepe she was not us'd to talke thus: +She has some hideous dreame. She spake to me, to; +Whom should I strangle, sweet hart, with a lute string? + +_La_. The King of _Morocco_, I thinke. + +_Ri_. Tis so, she dreames. What strange Chimeras wee +Doe fancie in our sleepe! I were best wake her. +Madam, Madam! + +_La_. O Murder, Murder! + +_Ri_. Sweet heart, Madam, wake! + +_La_. Whoes that? + +_Ri_. Tis I. + +_La_. Sir _Richard_? Oh you have delivered me +From such a dreame I quake to thinke upon't. + +_Ri_. I must confesse you frighted me at first. + + _Enter Dorothy_. + +_Do_.--My Master come back? if he had found the [sic] Sir _Francis_ here! + +_Ri_. How now? art thou frighted too? + +_Do_. Frighted, quoth a! Oh, Madam, the key of the Closet quickly. I +must have some Cordiall water for Sir _Francis_; I feare this fitt will +kill him. + +_La_. Alas, good gentleman! make hast. + +_Do_.--His appearance would betray all: I thus prevent it. + +_La_. Nay, sweet hart, you sha'not leave me till I ha told +What a cruell Dreame I had. Methought a king +Of Blackamores was in love with me, and haveing +By flattering Courtship drawne me to his bed chamber, +With my consent or force swore to enjoy mee. +I knew not by what reasons to divert +The Ravisher, but told him that I heard +Thy voice, and bid him if he lov'd his life +Retire, for thou wouldst deere revenge my honour. +But he pursueing me, I cry'd out Murder! +At which sad noise methought I saw thee enter, +But, having nere a sword, I counselld thee +To strangle him with a Lute string, for which cruelty +Of mine, me thought he threw an Arrow at me, +Which, if thou hadst not wak'd me as thou didst, +Would as I slept with my strong feares ha killd me. + +_Ri_. This was the King of _Morocco_: well, I'me glad +I came to take away thy fright. + +_La_. But, sweet, you left me with a resolution +To hunt this morning. Have you done already? + +_Ri_. The theeves prevented me. +My Stable has been rob'd to night; two geldings +And my roane Nagg are vanished. + +_La_. How? + +_Ri_. Nay, doe not thou vexe: +I have sent hue and cry that may oretake 'em. +But come, Ile leave thee to my glasse, +And visit Sir _Francis_ now shees return'd.-- + + [_Enter Dorothy_. + +How does our Noble guest? + +_Do_. Hees pretty well: he has voided one stone since +And now finds ease. + +_Ri_. Tis well: attend your Mistres. [_Exit_. + +_La_. O, wench, I had almost undone my selfe, +Come o'tother side, reach me that peticote; +Ile tell the storie as I make me ready. + + _Ex[eun]t_. + + + +[SCENE 2.] + + + _Enter Device, Sister_. + +_Sis_. Ist possible you can talke thus and be no travailer? + +_De_. I have traveld in my fancie, Ladie, and with the Muses, and do for +my recreation of witt compose some wonders in verse, poeticall essaies, +as once upon the report of a heate that was in _Egipt_. + +_Sis_. Lets heare 'em. + +_De_. _In Countreys I have been +Under the Equinoctiall, where I have seene +The Sunne disperse such a prodigious heat +That made our sive-like skins to raine with sweat. +Men would have given for an Ecclipse their lives, +Or one whisper of Aire; yet each man strives +To throw up grasse, feathers, nay women, too, +To find the wind: all falls like lead, none blew. +The Dogstarre spits new fire till't came to passe +Each eye became his neighbours burning glasse. +Leane men did burne to ashes presentlie, +Fatt men did wast to leane Anatomye; +Young womens heat did gett themselves with child, +For none but they themselves themselves defild; +Old women naturally to witches turne, +And onely rubbing one another burne. +The beasts were bak'd, skin turnd to crust, they say, +And fishes in the River boild away. +Birds in the aire were rosted and not burn'd, +For, as they fell downe, all the way they turn'd_. + +_Sis_. Most excellent! + +_De_. I have seene Larkes in that motion at fire +With an Engine of packthread perpendicular. + +_Sis_. What would they have given for a shower in those Cuntries? + +_De_. Now you talke of a Shower you shall heare +Another coppie of Verses that I made +Of a mighty raine which fell once in the _Indies_. + +_Sis_. That you made? If you will venture your lungs let me heare more +impossible stories to passe away the tyme. + +_De. _Heaven did not weepe, but in its swelling eye +Whole Seas of Rhume and moist Catarrs did lie, +Which so bespauld the lower world, men see +Corne blasted and the fruit of every tree; +Aire was condenst to water gainst their wish, +And all their foule was turn'd to flying Fish; +Like watermen they throng'd to ply a fare, +As though it had been navigable Aire. +Beasts lost the naturall motion of each limbe, +Forgott to goe with practiseing to swime: +A trout now here you would not thinke how soone +Taken and drest for th'Emperour o'the Moone, +The fixed Starres, though to our eyes were missing +Wee knew yet were by their continuall hissing. +Weomen were mermaides sailing with the wind, +The greatest miracle was fish behind: +But men were all kept chast against their wish, +And could comitt but the cold sin of fish_. + +_Sis_. And that synne would puzzle all the Civell Lawyers in the +kingdome. Sinns of the flesh they are perfect in; they know well enough +what belongs to Adultery and simple fornication, but you would much +improve and oblige the practise of the Court, if you could bring this +sinne of fish under the Commission. But now, I hope, the raine is over +we shall have faire weather. + +_De_. Now I can tell you, Lady, what a strange frost was in one part of +the world-- + +_Sis_. I shall cry out fire if you doe; I had rather have some discourse +to keepe me warm still. + +_De_. Or how the whole world was troubled with the wind Collick. + +_Sis_. No more Earthquakes, I beseech you. Some frends of myne lost a +great deale of land the last terme, and for ought I know tis never like +to be recover'd. Why, all these verses you have honourd me to heare were +translated out of _French_. + +_De_. You say very right, Lady. + +_Sis_. No, no; they are out of _Spanish_, as I remember. + +_De_. I thinke it be out of _Spanish_, indeed. + +_Sis_. Or else the _Italian_. + +_De_. Troth, I know not which very well. + +_Sis_. And yet you made 'em! Some gentlemen have the faculty to make +verses and forgett what language was the Originall: tis Alamode, I +confesse, sir. + +_De_. Thers the mischiefe in poetry: a man might have told 200 lies in +prose upon his owne name, and never miscaried.--But, leaving these rude +rymes, Ladie, how do you like the novice that Sir _Richard_ comended. + +_Sis_. Mr. _Courtwell_? + +_De_. Is he not a pretty Chrisome[249]? I could not choose but laugh to +observe in what rurall deportment he came to salute you, that should +have made his address in theis postures. + +_Sis_. Tis enough, sir; I apprehend what you would doe. The truth is, +touching that thing in black, I doe not love him. + +_De_. I know't; tis impossible. + +_Sis_. Why is't impossible? The man's a pretty indifferent meaning man, +but I must have one of a more active spiritt. No, no, the man's a +Coward. + +_De_. He lookes like one. + +_Sis_. I put him to't, he dares not fight; and he that expects my favour +to so high a degree as marriage must be none of my lord Maiors +whifflers[250]; he must be valiant in Armes. I am not taken with a ring +or Caskanet, as some avaritious Ladies; he that presents me with the +sword of his rivall is more welcome then all the silken soft natur'd six +hundreds a yeere, that will be baffeld in their best clothes and goe +downe into the Country every Vacacon like Atturneys to be beaten against +next terme and get damage by it, but I forget some affaires that +concerne me. I take my leave. Your deserts upon me are eminent and many, +and for all your noble services I--will promise you nothing: you +apprehend me? + +_De_. O, sweet Lady, tis too much. + +_Sis_. I am so weary I can stay no longer w'ee. [_Exit_. + +_De_. You make mee over happie.--So, so; the matters done. I may write +my friends. Hum: well thought upon! I shall leave her joyes without any +bound to entertaine me if I first beat this foolish rivall of mine and +present her with his sword. She assures me he dares not fight: it shall +be so. Thus with one baffling and disarming him I shall secure my +Mistresse and get the reputation of a fighting Cavallier, which may save +me many a knock hereafter among men of strong faith that shall heare how +much honour I have elsewhere taken upon the ticket. + + + +[SCENE 3.] + + + _Enter Captaine and Underwit_. + +_Un_. Stand right to your files, make even your rankes, silence! +Front to the right hand. +As you were. +To the right hand about. +By the left hand. +As you were. +Rankes to the right double. +Rankes as you were. +Rankes to the left double. +Midlemen to the right hand double the front; as you were,--to the left, +--double the front; middle-men to the right entire [or[251] by division] +double the front; files to the right,--to the left,--to the right hand +countermarch,--to the right,--to the left,--wheele about-- + +_Cap_. Ran tan: enough,--you must not wast your lunges +Too much at once. March faire and make a Captaine. +When these words of Command are rotten (rooted?) wee +Will sowe some other military seeds. +You beare[252] a braine and memory. + +_Un_. I hope so. + +[_Cap_.[253]] And now you are chose a Captaine for your Countrey +You must give good example to your Soldiers +And cherish nature after exercise: +You must drinke sack, sack is a fortifier. +Come, wee'le to the taverne. + +_Un_. With all my heart. + + [_Enter Mr. Courtwell_. + +Here's Mr. _Courtwell_: lett's take him with us. + +_Cap_. My costive Countrey man? hee's an Anabaptist: he wonot drinke, +and yet kist the Cupp of last night, me thought, when his Mistres-- +drank to him: wee'le try. How ist, my man of mortall breeding? + +_Cou_. My man of warre, trebonn.--Your servant, Captaine. + +_Cap_. Why, this was spoke like one of us; canst doo't +Agen? thy voice is more authentick, soundes +As I have heard a Cavalliers in taverne, +Or like the merry master of the _Dragon_, +Small _Neptune_, that controlls the rich Canaries, +When he Comaunds the Tritons of his cellar +'Skud, and bring wine, you varlotts, with a flavour +For my Nobilitie.' Wee were conspiring +To goe to'th taverne. + +_Cou_. Ile make one, gentlemen, to wash away some melancholy. + +_Cap_. Spoke boldlie, like an _Argonaute_. + +_Cou_. I am not now in _London_, +Upon a hall day marching with the puisnes, +Twenty on's in a teame, to _Westminster_ +In our torne gownes, embroiderd with _Strand_ dirt, +To heare the Law. + +_Cap_. Is not thy father dead, thou talkst so well? +How I was cosend in thee: come away. + + _Enter Thomas_. + +_Un_. Here's my man _Thomas_. + +_Cap_. Now the Newes, Sir _Tristram_. + +_Tho_. Oh the Gentleman is mad. + +_Un_. What gentleman? + +_Tho_. Why, Mr. Engine that did faint last night. + +_Un_. With feare of being hang'd for his projections. + +_Cou_. My Uncle told me of him. + +_Cap. Let him to _Bedlam_ then; what makes he here? +Clean straw and a good whip are held restoratives. + +_Tho_. He walkes and talkes the madliest; twenty midwives +Are nothing to him, he drownes all their noise. +His tongue is twenty ring of Bells, and yett +He seemes so merry. + + _Enter Engine_. + +_En_. Save you, gentlemen, gallants, Cavalliers. How farre travell you: +me thinkes you are very finely accomodated. Are you a Doctor, sir? + +_Cap_. No, but I can tell you how to purge, and please you. + +_En_. You say very well. Troth, gentlemen you must pardon me: cry you +mercy, your name is Captaine _Underwit_. + +_Un_. Yes, sir, but my mother came of the _Over-muches_ by the _Peake_. +She broke my father's hart, and Sir _Richard_ buried her: things must be +as please the starres. + +_En_. What thinke you of the blazeing starre in _Germany_? according to +_Ptolmy_ tis very strange. Does the race hold at _Newmarket_ for the +Cup[254]? When is the Cocking, gentlemen? There are a parcell of rare +Jewells to be sold now, and a man had money. I doe meane to build a very +fine house next summer and fish ponds. What did you heare of the new +play. I am afraid the witts are broke; there be men will make affidavit +that [they] have not heard a good jest since _Tarleton_[255] dyed. Pray, +may I crave your name, sir? + +_Cou_. My name is _Courtwell_, sir. + +_En_. In your eare; I have a cast of the best Marlins[256] in England, +but I am resolv'd to goe no more by water but in my Coach. Did you ever +see the great ship?[257] + +_Cap_. I have been one of twenty that have dind in her lanterne. + +_En_. It may be so; she is a good sailer. But ile tell you one thing: I +intend to have the best pack of hounds in _Europe_; Sir Richard loves +the sport well. And then if I can but find out the reason of the +loadstone I were happie and would write _Non Ultra_. + +_Cap_. The philosophers stone were better in my opinion. Have you no +project to gett that? + +_Cou_. That has startled him: I doubt this fellow does but counterfeit. + +_Un_. What thinke you of the Dromedary that was to be seene at the back +side[258] of the _Bell_. + +_En_. I have seene a stranger beast. + +_Cap_. So have I; I have seene you before now, sir. + +_En_. Why then, ile tell you: the strangest beast that ever I saw was an +Ostridge that eate up the Iron mynes. But now you talke of birds I saw +an Elephant beat a Taylor in the fenceing schoole at his owne weapon. + +_Tho_. The _Spanish_ needle? + +_En_. He did out eat him in bread, and that was miraculous. I have seene +a Catamountaine[259] once; but all was nothing to the wench that turnd +round and thred needles. + +_Cou_. Troth, sir, I thinke you have turnd round, too, and are not +setled yet. + +_En_. Now you talke of setling I knew a gentleman, that was borne to a +good fortune, sold all his land, went to sea in a _Hollander_, was taken +by the _Dunkirke_; at seaven yeares end stole away in an _English_ +botome; after that saw both the _Indies_; for all this was taken by a +_Turks_ man of warre, put into the Gallies, and for ought I heare by +credible report is not setled yet. + +_Tho_. Sure he is a great scholler; a man cannot understand him. + +_Un_. His braines are out of tune. + +_En_. Now you talke of Musick theres no man in the world loves musick +better then I,--ile give you the reason: I have been deafe almost this +halfe yeare, and it came with a cold sitting up a primero. + +_Co_. Now you talke of the cold it puts me in mind of the new device of +fire for brewing and bakeing. Had you no hand in the project? + +_Cap_. Againe hees startled: come, he shall to taverne with us and +confess all. If he do not strip his soule stark naked to us, say I am no +fortune teller.--Please you to honour our society: we are going to +indulge at the taverne hard by. + +_En_. You shall comand me, sir. Oh the Neats tongues and partargoes that +I have eaten at Stillyard, but of all things in the world I do not love +a black catt: next a brewers cart, there's nothing will stay a man so +much in the night as a Constables. One word before you go, and I beseech +you give me your opinion cleerely: was not the _Morocco_ Ambasadour a +very fine gentleman for a pagan? + +_Cap_. Yes, surely, and the lead mines in _Darbishire_ hold still for +the Allom businesses. But come; will you walke, Sir? + +_En_. I do use to goe a foote sometymes but when I ride; and then I must +confesse there is no striving with the streame. You were in _London_ +lately: they say the people are more affected to beare baiting then in +former tyme. + +_Cap_. There are some a late are drawne like beares to the stake; but +for your owne part the gout and the grand pox are all one to you. What +price beare[s] meat in the shambles? + +_En_. Flesh rises and falls as it us'd to doe, sir; but a Countrey life +is the best when all's done. What thinke you of a bridg from _Lion_ key +to _Flaunders_? You may guess I talke at randum, gentlemen; but you must +not interpret all foolish discourse a distemper of the braine: Lords +would take it for a _Scandalum Magnatum_ and your Ladies would bee angry +too. + + _Enter Sir Francis and Lady_. + +Now you talke of Ladies-- + +_Cap_. By no meanes, Mr. _Engin_; that gentleman loves you not. Come, +ile bring up the rere. Where's _Thomas_? + + [_Exeunt Underwit, Captain, Courtwell and Engine_. + +_Tho_. Ile follow, sir.--I would give my fower marks a yeare that I +could talke like that mad gentleman. Hee's here and there and +everywhere. How will his tongue run when his Coggs are oild; theile +drench him! [_Exit_. + +_Fra_. Although I mist a happines, I applaud +Your nimble wit that securd both our honours. +You have an excellent Instrument too o' your gentlewoman. + +_La_. Oh she deliver'd to the life how you +Were troubled with the Stone. At first I did +Beleev't my selfe, and thinke of the sad consequence. +But tyme is pretious now: although our Starres +Have not been yet propitious to our meeting +Ile try my art to night to make 'em shine. +With happie influence on our Loves. + +_Fra_. Most excellent Madam, how? + +_La_. Ile not engage +Your visit to my chamber, since the first +Prov'd so unfortunate, but come to youres. + +_Fra_. This night? wonot your husband be at home. + +_La_. Yes. + +_Fra_. You enjoy but one bed. + +_La_. Without witchcraft, sir, +I have a stratageme to delude my husband +And all his jealous waking eyes, a plott +That cannot faile if you dare but expect me. + +_Fra_. I grow immortall with my hopes and fancie +More than the worlds most pretious Empire in +Our first embrace. I should runne back into +An Infant once agen, and by degrees +And tyme grow up to meet so vast a happines. +Ages in expectation spent were poore +And easy sufferings weigh'd against this triumph! +Methinkes I am not man but something of +A more exalted essence: humane nature +Hath not capacity to understand +And owne theis spatious blessings. + +_La_. No more rapture; +But with the confidence of a lover spread +Your equall thoughts, and in your heart and armes +Prepare an entertainement for that guest +That hath no life or name but what you give. +A kisse! and leave our soules to thinke upon +The joyes this night attend us. + +_Fra_. Sullen day, +Do not tire now; tis downehill all the way. + + [_Exeunt severally_. + + + + +_Act the Fourth_. + +[SCENE 1.[260]] + + + [_Captain,[261] Underwit, Courtwell and Musicians, + discovered in the Tavern_.] + +_Capt_. Come, my _Apollos_, my _Orpheuses_ or my _Bacchus_ his +Minst[rels], which, to leave poeticall expressions, in broader phrase +is Taverne fidlers, some of your new tunes, my Masters; doe you heare? + +1. Do you meane Mr. _Adson_'s[262] new ayres, Sir? + +_Cap_. I, Sir; but they are such phantasticall ayres as it putts a Poet +out of his witts to rhime to them; but let mee heare. + + 1 _Play_. + +_Capt_. No, I doe not like that. + + 1 _Play againe_. + +_Capt_. Nor that. (_Play againe_)--No, no, no, neither. + +1. An't please your Worship, Mr. _Capt_., our Boyes can singe songs +to these. + +_Cap_. No, no, saveing your presence, your Boyes have nothing, +sarreverence,[263] but Love songs, and I hate those monstruously, to +make thinges appeare better then they are, and that is but _deceptio +Visus_, which after some embraceings the parties see presently what +it is. + _The Musique Playes_. + + (_Hee sings and reeks and fillips all the time + with his finger, then sayees_:) + +_Cap_. I, I, this thumping tune I like a life; a Song, a Song to it! + + _One Singes. + This Song. + + _The Juice of Spanish squeez'd Grapes is It + That makes a dull Braine so full of witt; + The Lemonades cleere sparkling wine + The grosser witts too, doth much refine. + Then to bee foxd[264] it is no crime, + Since thickest and dull Braines It makes sublime. + The Stillyards Reanish wine and Divells white, + Who doth not in them sometimes take delight? + If with Mimique Gestures you'le keep you from sadnes, + Then drinke lusty Clarett twill put you in Madnes; + And then to settle you no hopes in Beer + But wholesome Potts of Scotch ale though its deere_. + +_Cap_. But looke you, Child, you say the Divells white in your Song. You +have beene ill catechiz'd, Boy, for a _White Divell_ is but a poeticall +fiction[265]; for the Divell, God bless us, Child, is blacke. + +_Boy_. No, Captaine, I say white wine at the Divell. + +_Cap_. That's true; thats a good Boy, indeed. _Underwit_, lend mee a +Peice to give these harmonious men there. And now begon, my Masters, +without noise, for I will have no more fiddle-faddle for my money, no +tunes of supererrogation after the Musicall Bill is paid. + + [_Exeunt[266] omnes_. + + + +[SCENE 2.] + + + _Enter Thomas_. + +_Tho_. They are all drunke already, and such Confusion in their heads +and tongues, my master kisses the next man and calls him Mistres +_Dorothy_; Mr. _Courtwell_, possest with the spiritt of defiance to +_Cupid_, is ready to beat him for being in love; my Projector dead drunk +in a Chaire, and the Captaine peepeing into his mouth like a tooth +drawer and powring downe sack which he feeles not, but his chapps shut +againe like a spring lock till he returne with a key to open his teeth, +to poure in the next health. + + _Enter Courtwell_. + +_Cou_. My Cloake and sword, Drawer. + +_Tho_. Tis here, sir. + +_Cou_. Thou art a pretty fellow; here's half a Crowne, say I am +gone _Thomas_. + +_Tho_. You are pretty well. + + _Enter Captaine and Underwit_. + +_Un_. What shalls doe with him; this Engine burnes like _Etna_. + +_Cap_. Throw him into the River. + +_Un_. Hee's able to mull the _Thames_ well, for my owne part would +Mistresse _Dorothy_ were here to open her files. + +_Cou_. Did you not name a woman. I will have no mention of any thing +that's female. + +_Un_. May not a man talke of Sack? + +_Cap_. Sack is a soveraigne medicine. + +_Un_. Oh very Soveraigne. + +_Cap_. Is it not _hic et hec_ sack, both for he and she. Stay, is my +Countryman gone? come hither, _Thomas_; do you thinke I am drunke? + +_Tho_. Truly, Captaine, I cannot tell. + +_Cap_. You cannot tell? there's your ignorance. Drink is a vice I am as +little given to as another man, for I doe abhorre it in my selfe. I do +wonder how any reasonable man can be drunk; therefore every wise man +take Counsell and example by me, and he may see very plainely what an +odious thing it is; for you must follow your leader, and vertue, which +is an Antient-- + +_Tho_. Vertue an Antient? + +_Cap_. I, an Antient old gentlewoman that is growne very poore, and +nobodie knowes where she dwells very hard to find her out, especially +for a Capt.; you will find it very difficult for a Livetenent. But wee +will endeavour the best wee can; you see my courses, I have travel'd to +find her out, and I could never yet see her at a baudihouse. + +_Un_. Who is to be seene at a baudihouse? to the right hand countermarch. + +_Tho_. He talkes of vertue, sir. + +_Un_. Vertue? she never comes there; why do you thinke she should be +there, Captaine? + +_Cap_. Why, because she is an old gentlewoman and might keepe the house. + +_Tho_. Alas, Captaine, Mistris _Vertue_ is poore and leane. + +_Cap_. Nay, then she is not fit to be a baud, but tell me did you ever +see her, or if so did you ever doo't with her? + +_Un_. No, but twas none of my fault; I know not what I may do in time +when she understands the wordes of Command. + +_Tho_. He does not meane Mistris _Dorothy_: but, Captaine, I would faine +know the reason why your baudes are so fat still. + +_Cap_. A plaine case: they lie fallow and get hart, then they keepe +themselves so in health and so soluble with stewd prunes; and then +sipping of sack is a great matter to fatten 'em. But they are as good +people as a man shall keepe company withall, and bring up the young +gentlewomen so vertuously. I came into one of their houses tother day +for a carreere, and I found the baud sick upon her death bed, very +religious and much given to repentance for those poore sins she had +comitted. When she had taken order for her soule, she told me the young +gentlewoman I look'd for was in the next roome; and desiring her upon +her blessing to give me content, she turnes herselfe to the wall and +gives up the ghost very privatly, because she was loth to trouble us. + +_Un_. By your relation theis appeare to be very good people. What if we +went to visit one of these Matrons? I have a great mind-- + +_Cap_. Wy, now you speake like an understanding soldier, and one that +may come to something in the end. Lett us therefore march on. + +_Un_. March on to _Venus_ Warres. + +_Cap_. For you know, _Thomas_, that the Spider and the Bee, the Spider +and the Bee, do both--something, but in troth I have forgott what tis. + +_Un_. Tis no matter what; let us goe. + +_Cap_. Goe? no more but goe? though I be a Captaine, if I be not chosen +in this imployment-- + +_Tho_. What, then, Captaine? + +_Cap_. Why, then--I cannot goe. + +_Tho_. Very right; but wo' not those young gentlewomen you talk'd of +give a man something to make a man afraid of pepper upon occasion? + +_Cap_. You will be prating so long till I breake your head for +pretending to that which you have not, sirra. + +_Tho_. Alas, I never had it in my life. + +_Un_. What's that, Captaine? + +_Cap_. Wit, I talke of wit. + +_Un_, Who has any wit? does my man offer to have wit? + +_Cap_. Nay, take no offence at it, for I meant none to either of you +by this sack. Drawer, give me my oath, cannot you drinke without wit? +cannot you game without wit? + +_Un_. And yet by your favour the gamesters are cald the wits now. + +_Cap_. Tis no wit to cozen; confederacy and dishonesty will doo't +without wit. Ile iustifie it: do not you know the receit of Cozenage? +take an ounce of knavery at the least,--and confederacie is but so many +knaves put together,--then you must take a very fine young Codling heire +and pound him as small as you can. + +_Un_. And what then, Captaine? + +_Cap_. Why, then you must cozen him. + +_Un_. But which way? + +_Cap_. Which way? Why, which way you will: is not cozen him enough? thou +art a pretty fellow, ile talke with thee. Thy name's _Thomas_; take +heed, I say still, _Thomas_, of being drunke, for it doth drowne the +mortall soule; and yours cannot swim, _Thomas_,--can it? + +_Tho_. Not as I know, Captaine; if it scape fire tis as much as I +looke for. + +_Within Eng_. Oh--oh-- + +_Cap_. What's that? + +_Tho_. Tis Mr. _Engine_ recovered from his dead sleepe. [_Exit_. + +_Un_. D'ee heare, Captaine, for all this I have a great mind to a wench, +and a wench I must have if there be one above ground. Oh _London, +London_, thou art full of frank tenements, give me _London_. Shall we +wheele about yet? + +_Cap_. Give you _London_? Wo'nott _Cheapeside_ serve your turne, or the +_Exchange_? + + _Enter Thomas_. + +_Tho_. Oh, gentlemen, Mr. _Engine_ is surely bewitch'd. + +_Cap_. What, what's the matter? bring the witch and Mr. _Engine_ +before us. + +_Tho_. He does vomit the strangest things yonder. + +_Cap_. Did not I say, murder will out? + +_Tho_. I thinke he has eaten and drunke nothing but Monopolies, and too +hard to be digested they come up againe. + +_Within Eng_. Oh! + +_Tho_. Harke, I must hold his head. [_Exit_. + +_Cap_. Did not I tell you something would come out? + +_Tho_. Pins, pins, they lay across his throat. I told you he was +bewitch'd. Heyday! cards and dice, out with 'em, the Divells a gamester +and paies the box soundly--Now, now, now. + +_Un_. Whats that? + +_Tho_. Tis something clammy,--now,--oh, tis sope! + +_Cap_. Sope? give a man leave to wash his mouth. + +_Un_. Does not the lyme burne his throat, _Thomas_? + +_Tho_. Alas, poore gentleman, something now agen is ready to strangle +him; out with em,--hides, hides,--it was the hornes stuck in his gullett. + +_Within_. Oh-- + +_Tho_. Well straind; what a foule stomack he has! open your mouth, +Mr. _Engine_. + +_Cap_. Throw downe a pottlepot. + +_Tho_. I have, sir, and it has come up full of medium wine; if you have +any charity come and helpe me to hold his head; now agen! + +_Within_. Oh, oh, oh! + +_Un_. This is very strange, Captaine; the man is certainely enchanted. + +_Tho_. Master, master, tis _Shrovetuesday_[267] and the prentices are +pulling downe _Covent Garden_; the Brickes come as whole out as if he +had swallowed Cherristones. Hey! will you take Tobacco in the Roll? here +is a whole shiplading of _Bermudas_ and one little twopenny paper of +berrinas, with a superscription 'To my very loving friends the +Custome-house.' + +_Cap_. Put up that for a relique, _Thomas_, and open it upon high dayes +to clear the sore eyes of our _Spanish_ Marchants. _Thomas_, no more, +but call the Drawer, an understanding Drawer and one that writes +orthographie. + + [_Enter Drawer_. + +--Sirra, I charge you set a padlock upon that Chamber doore; there is a +dangerous fellow must be brought to his purgation. And looke all the +goods that he hath vomitted be forthcomeing, while we discreetly goe and +enforme the Magistrates.--At your perill, sirra, at your perill seale up +the Doore; and do you pay the reckoninge. + +_Un_. Sir _Richard_ is a Justice. There's your money, and yet wee need +not pay; the gentleman hath left enough for the Reckoning in the next +Roome. + +_Un_. I ha made him fast, you are very welcome, gentlemen. All's paid in +the Percullis. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +[SCENE 3.] + + + _Enter Courtwell and Sister_. + +_Sis_. Ile walke no further; if you have a secret +To impart, you need not feare this place; the trees +And hedges will not listen. What's the business? +I hope your phlegmatick stock of verse is spent. + +_Cou_. Why then in prose, the worst that I can speake in, +I doe not love you, Lady. + +_Sis_. How? you ha not +Traind me thus farr to tell me that? + +_Cou_. You are +Of all your sex the poorest emptiest trifle, +And one with whome tis most impossible +I ere should change Affection; theres nothing +To invite me too't, not so much as that +Wee call a seeming reason, upon which +All Love is built, seeming, I say, not it, +My understanding Ladie. + +_Sis_. You thinke I am very dull that you expound +Your witt thus, but it needes no Comentator, +Not by the Author, tis so very plaine; +But to despise me most of all the sexe +Is something oversaid. Though I affect +No flattery, I hate uncivill Language. +You do not meane to quarrell, now you have +Betraid me to the feilds, and beat me, Sir? + +_Cou_. What is there in your face more to attract mee +Then that Red Cowes complexion? Why the Divell +Do you thinke I should dote upon your person? +That thing when she is stroak'd gives milke. + +_Sis_. By that +I understand all this revenge, because +You thinke I did neglect you. Pray, sir, tell me, +And tell me seriouslie, put the Case that I +Should love you now, could not you love agen? + +_Cou_. In troth I thinke I could not. + +_Sis_. You do but thinke. + +_Cou_. Nay, ile bind it with an oath before the parish, +And when I have given my reasons, too, the Clarke +Shall praise me fort and say Amen. + +_Sis_. What reasons? + +_Cou_. I shall be very loath +To say your eyes are twinckling Starres agen, +Your lipps twin cherries and out blush the rubie, +Your azure veines vye beauty with the Saphire +Or that your swelling breasts are hills of Ivory, +Pillowes for Jove to rest his amorous head, +When my owne Conscience tells me that _Bunhill_ +Is worth a hundred on 'em, and but _Higate_ +Compar'd with 'em is Paradice. I thanke you; +Ile not be vext and squeez'd about a rime +Or in a verse that's blanke, as I must be, +Whine love unto[268] a tune. + +_Sis_. This all your feare? + +_Cou_. No, I doe feare to loose my tyme, my businesse, +And my witts too, jolting them all away +To waite on you in prouder Coaches. + +_Sis_. Is this all? + +_Cou_. To spend my selfe to nothing and be laugh'd at +By all the world when I shall come at last +To this reward for all my services, +To bee your lay Court Chaplaine and say gravely +A hastie grace before your windowes breakfast. + +_Sis_. But how +Came you thus cur'd? You were a passionate +(I may say) foole, in hope you will deserve it. +What phisick tooke you that hath thus restor'd you? + +_Cou_. A little sack had power to cure this madnes. + +_Sis_. I hope you are not sober yet, the humour +May change when you ha slept. + +_Cou_. Ile rather stick +My Eyelids up with Sisters[269] thread and stare +Perpetually. + +_Sis_. Then you may see me agen. + +_Cou_. I thinke I sha'not, unless it be to wonder, +When you are in the Ivie bush, that face +Cut upon Tafata, that creame and prunes, +So many plums in white broth, that scutcheon of +Pretence powderd with ermines. Now I looke upon't, +With those black patches it does put me in mind +Of a white soule with sinns upon't, and frights me. +How sell you grapes? Your haire[270] does curle in bunches; +You[r] lipps looke like the parsons glebe, full of +Red, blew and yellow flowers; how they are chopt +And looke like trenches made to draine the meadowe. + +_Sis_. This rudenes +Is beyond the manners of a gentleman. + +_Cou_. I cannot helpe it, and I hope you thinke so. + +_Sis_. I am confirm'd that now I am forsaken, +But if your passion have not drownd all reason +I pray let us part civilly. + +_Cou_. With all my heart; I dare then take my leave, to[o]. + +_Sis_. Whoe's there? + +_Cou_. Where? + +_Sis_. Behind that tree? + +_Cou_. You have no plott to accuse me for a rape? +Twas at the worst but felony, for cherries +That look'd as they had been a fortnight gather'd. + +_Sis_. I know youle bring me home in Curtesie. + +_Cou_. Not I, I wo' not trust my selfe; and you +Will hardly meet a worse to interrupt you. +Fare you well, Ladie.--Do you see that Bull? + +_Sis_. Yes, Sir. + +_Cou_. That is a happie beast + +_Sis_. Why happie, sir? + +_Cou_. He writes no verses to his Mistresse, is +Not cosend nor forsworne to gett her favour, +Bestowes no rings nor empties his Exchequer +To appear still in new rich suites, but lives +Free o' the stock of Nature, yet loves none. +Like the great _Turke_ he walkes in his Seraglio, +And doth command which concubine best pleases; +When he has done he falls to graze or sleepe, +And makes as he had never knowne the Dun, +White, Red or Brindled Cowe. + +_Sis_. You are unmanly. + +_Cou_. Nay, I know you will raile now; I shall like it. +Call me a scurvy fellow, proud and saucie, +An ill bred, crooked Clowne; ile here this rather +Then live upon your pitty. And yet doe not; +For, if you raile, too, men that know you can +Dissemble, may beleeve you love me, and +Tis not my ayme. + +_Sis_. You are a fine man! + +_Cou_. I am in my best clothes? + +_Sis_. I perceave +That tis truth now what the world saies of you, +And yet tis strange. + +_Cou_. 'Twere strange it should be otherwise. + +_Sis_. You give your tongue a licence, nor will I hope +Your malice should spare me abroad that have +So prodigally abus'd a Ladies fame +That deserv'd nobly from you; but you men +Care not whose name you blast with a loose character, +So you maintaine your pride of talke. + +_Cou_. Howe's this? +It is confess'd I have talk'd in my tyme +And talk'd too much, but not too much of you; +For I but seldome thought of such a woman: +For any other-- + +_Sis_. Nay, sir, I am satisfied; +You can talke your pleasure. + +_Cou_. Have I not done it, too? + +_Sis_. Yes, by your own report, and with a lady +So much in vertue and in birth above you; +And therefore I expect not-- + +_Cou_. Stay; this moves me. +I never tooke a pleasure yet to lie +With Ladies fames, or ever thought that sport +Lay in the tongue. Such humours are for men +That live by brothell offices: let me know +Who hath traduc'd me to you thus, he shall +Be knowne no more. + +_Sis_. Ile not be guiltie, sir, +Of any murder; when we meet agen, +And you in better humour, I may tell you. +So farewell, _Gondarino_,[271] nothing's lost +When you turne _Woman Hater_. [_Exit_. + +_Cou_. She has vext me. +If we make Matrimony after this rate, +The Divell is like to dance at our wedding. Ho! + + _Enter Device_. + +_De_. Hee's here, +Alone too, and the place most opportune. +How shall I beginne?--Mr. _Courtwell_, do you love +Any friend of mine? + +_Cou_. Not to my knowledge, Sir; I should be sorry. + +_De_. Do not you love a gentlewoman? + +_Cou_. If she be a friend of yours ile take the first +Occasion to neglect her for your sake. + +_De_. It will become your wisdome and your safety. + +_Cou_. What mischiefe have done to your face? + +_De_. My face? + +_Cou_. You looke so scurvily; come hither, thou +New Monster, with more feet then a Caterpiller; +What tyme a day ist? you that move upon +So many wheeles, say, Monsier, are you not +A walkeing Clock? I have a mighty mind +To see you tooke a peeces. + +_De_. I doe not like this.-- +You wo'not put me, sir, together againe. + +_Cou_. I wo'not take the paines. Why do you smile now? + +_De_. At your conceite to thinke I was a Clock: +I am a watch, I never strike.--Hee's valiant. + +_Cou_. You have pretty colours there; are these your Mistresses? + +_De_. If you did know the mistery you would applaud 'em. +Have you read _Livre de blason_? What meane you? + +_Cou_. I will bestow 'em, sir, upon some forehorse? +They will become a countrey teame rarely. + +_De_. Mor bleu! +Why, you dare fight, it seemes, and I was told +You were no Cavellier, a very dreame [droane?] +A wedg for men to breake their swords upon. +I shall never trust fame agen for your sake. + +_Cou_. Thou never cosendst me. + +_De_. I was never so illiterate in man. + +_Cou_. For I did ever thinke thou durst not fence +But at a complement; a glittering vapour, +A thing of clothes and fitt for chambermaides +To whet their witts upon, but now resolve +Either to have your skin flead of or fight wo' me +For troubling my present meditations. + +_De_. Why, sir, if you be serious I shall quit +That prejudice you have upon my valour. +Looke you, sir, I can draw, and thus provok'd +I dare chastise you, too. Cause I was merry +I was not bound to feed your spleen eternally +With laughter; yet I am not ignorant +What an advantage, sir, your weapon gives you +In length. + +_Cou_. Wee'le change; why, this is honour in thee. + + [_They measure and Device getts both weapons_. + +_De_. Now, sir, keepe of. + +_Cou_. Th'art not so base? + +_De_. I never cosen'd you, do you remember? +These two will guide me on the rope. + +_Cou_. You meane to dance, then? + +_De_. Yes, the Canaries,[272] but with quicker tyme +Then you, I hope, can follow: thus I begin. +Fa, la, la, &c. [_Excurrit_. + +_Cou_. What a heathen Coward's this? how the rogue tripps like a fairie +to the towne with 'em! He has been a footman, sure; I have not aire +enough to overtake him, and twill be darke presently. If I loose the +sight on him ile search the towne, and if I find him not there, pursue +him with hue and cries and after hang him. + + [_Exit_. + + + +[SCENE 4.] + + + _Enter Sir Francis, a taper prepar'd_. + +_Fra_. The sun whose busie eye is still employ'd +A spie upon our actions, tir'd with waiting, +Is drowsie gone to bed, about whose pillow +Night hath hung all her wings and set up tapers +As if the Day were timerous like a Child +And must have lights to sleepe by. Welcome all +The houres that governe pleasure, but be slow +When you have blest me with my wishes. Time +And Love should dwell like twins; make this your bower +And charme the aire to sweetnes and to silence. +Favour me now and you shall change your states; +Time shall be old no more, I will contract +With Destiny, if he will spare his winges +To give him youth and beauty, that we may +Find every minute a fresh child of pleasure. +Love shall be proud to be no more a boy +But grow to perfect strength and bold consistence[273]; +For when too Active Lovers meet, so happie +As wee, whose equall flames light to embraces, +Twill be no weight to number many yeares +In our delights and thinke all age a blessing. +But language is to narrow to expresse +What I expect, tis fitt my soule retire +Till she present her selfe; and, if it can +Measure my hop'd for ioyes with thought, prepare +To entertaine the happines. + + [_Exit_. + + + +[SCENE 5.] + + + _Sir Richard and his Lady abed. Enter Dorothy with a Light_. + +_Do_. I have set already my designe a moveing +To take my Captaine _Underwit_, who in wine +Was late more feirie upon me. I'th meane tyme +I cannot choose but laugh at the device +Wee have to cheat my Master; sure the Divell +Is a great friend to women that love men, +He doth so furnish us with quaint inventions. +Presently after supper she began +Her fitt othe toothach, and did counterfeit +So naturally; but since she went to bed +She almost rav'd by turnes:--I heare her at it. + +_La_. Oh--oh, whoe's there? + +_Do_. Tis I forsooth, I heard you groane and I +Have not the hart to sleepe. Shall I watch by you? + +_La. Oh, no, no, no; get you to bed, make fast the Chamber; +I cannot endure the candle. + + [_Dorothy towards the dore putts out the Candle and returnes_. + +_Ri_. Deare hart be patient. + +_La_. I, you have your homilies of patience, but if you had my paine +twould make you wild. Oh! + +_Ri_. Ile send for the _french_ toothdrawer in the morning. + +_La_. Oh, there is no rack nor torture like it. What shall I do? I shall +never sleepe agen. + +_Ri_. Which tooth ist? + +_Do_.--The sweet one you may be sure which troubles her. + +_La_. This, this, O that there. + +_Ri_. They are happie that are old and have no teeth. + +_La_. Oh, take heed, now it shoots up to my head. + +_Ri_. Thou dost make my head ake with the noise. + +_La_. If you knew what I suffer your head would ake indeed. I must rise +and walke in the Chamber; there is no remedy. + +_Ri_. You will catch more cold. + +_La_. Oh, no, no, deere life, do not crosse me; and you were in my +torment you would rise and trie any thing for a little ease. It cannot +be worse; the paine sure came with a cold, and who knowes but an other +cold may cure me. + +_Ri_. I prethe come to bed agen. + +_La_. So, so, do not troble me; I am now in some little ease; its a +heavenly thing to be goeing. + +_Ri_. Dost heare? + +_La_. Your noise will bring my paine back agen; if you knew what a +vexation it were for me to speake, You wo'not put me too't so. If you +doe talke I wo'not answere a word more, oh! + +_Ri_. Well by this no light ile to _London_ tomorrow. + + [_She takes Dorothy by the hand and exit_. + +Now do I see it is possible that a womans teeth should be as +troublesome as her tongue. + +_Do_. Oh, oh! + +_Ri_. I cannot choose but pitty her, that any woman should hold so much +paine in a hollow tooth. + +_Do_.--If my Mr. touched with so much compassion should rise and force +me to bed with him, I must not cry out a rape; tis at the worst on my +side but fornication in my owne defence. + +_Ri_. I prethe come to Bed. + +_Do_. Oh, oh, oh! + +_Ri_. The musick at a convocation of Catts upon a witches upsetting is +the spheres to this Catterwalling. I will thrust my head into the +pillow, as _Dametas_[274] did in a bush when the beare was a comeing, +and then I shanot heare her. + +_Do_. Oh, this is a kind of Purgatory for sins of the flesh. If she +should fall asleepe with the tother knight it is not possible I should +hold out till morning; that which would fright away an Ague would put me +into a feare, I shall ha the toothache indeed with counterfeiting; I +have knowne some men caught the stammers so; my gums begin to murmure, +there is a feare all over my flesh, she will stay so long, and then--- + +_Ri. coughs_.--Uh, uh! + +_Do_. Oh, oh!--Ile shift places to shew more distraction; at the worst +my noise shall be within his reach; it may give her notice to returne +too. + [_Exit_. + + + +[SCENE 6.] + + + _Sir Francis a sleepe; a table, inke, and paper. Enter Lady_. + +_La_. I am full of feares, and my owne motion frights me; +This furious love is a strange pilot. Sir, +Where are you? ha! asleepe! can any dulnes +That is not Death possess a gentleman, +So valiant in desires, when he expects +To meete his Mistresse? How I blush to raise him! +Was I not worth thy waking expectation? +Farewell; yet something that [like?] a charme that's fastned +To my poore hart restraines me. Inke and paper! +Ile leave him a short monument of this shame +And my neglected Love. [_Writes_. +He knowes my hand: farwell, forgetfull Lover. + [_Exit_. + +_Fra_. What? have I slept? some witchcraft did betray +My eyes to so much darkenes; yet my dreame +Was full of rapture, such as I with all +My wakeing sence would flie to meet. Me thought +I saw a thousand Cupids slide from heaven, +And landing here made this their scene of revells, +Clapping their golden feathers which kept tyme +While their owne feet strook musike to their dance, +As they had trod and touched so many Lutes. +This done, within a Cloud formd like a Throne, +She to whom love had consecrate this night, +My Mistresse, did descend and, comeing toward me, +My soule that ever wakes, angrie to see +My body made a prisoner and so mock'd, +Shook of the chaines of sleepe, least I should loose +Essentiall pleasure for a dreame. Tis happie; +I will not trust my selfe with ease and silence, +But walke and waite her comeing that must bless me. +Forgive me, you bright starres, and do not frowne +That I have not attended as became +One that must live by your kind influence. +Not yet appeard? She did comand I should +With confidence expect her. Ha! what's here? +This Character, was not visible before. +_That man's too much compos'd of phleame +Will loose his Mistress for a Dreame_. [_Reades_. +Tis her's, I know't; she has been here, oh fatall! +And finding me asleepe scorn'd to uncharme +My dull and cursed silence. This distracts me: +Have I so long, with so much Art and study, +Labour'd this honour, and obtaind what my +Ambition look'd at, her consent; and when +The tree it selfe bowed downe its golden fruit +And tempted me to gather, must I make +My selfe uncapable and be guilty of +So black, so base a forfeit? I could teare +My eyelids of, that durst let in a Mist +So darke and so destroying, must I sleepe +At such a tyme that the Divell must be over +Watche too! This houre hath blasted such a hope +As the Earth never teemd with nor the spring +Gave up in smileing blosomes to the breath +Of those sweet windes that whisper from the West +A tale of triumph to the yeere. I could +Dissolve with curseing of my Lathargie. +How shall I looke upon her face whose love +And bold adventure I have thus rewarded? +But passion cannot cure my wound; which must +Bleed till I see her, and then either cease, +Blest by her pardon, or dismiss a life +(Though iust) too poore a Sacrifice for her anger. +Where shall I hide my selfe and shame for ever! + + [_Exit_. + + + + +_The Fifth Act_. + + + _Enter Sister_. + +_Sis_. I cannot forgett my carelesse gentleman: his neglect and +reproaches have wrought strangely upon me.--Hee's here. + + _Enter Courtwell_. + +_Cou_. Is there not a weesill crept into your Chamber, lady? + +_Sis_. A weesill, sir? + +_Cou_. A Mounsier sucklegge. + +_Sis_. Do you take my Chamber for a henns neast? + +_Cou_. There is a thing that calls himselfe _Device_, +One that will break the hart of a post horse +To continue a hand gallop with him; your Alamode, +Your fighting faery feather'd footed servant,-- +When saw you him? + +_Sis_. My fighting servant? has he beaten you, sir? +Perhapps he thought you were his Rivall; surely +I saw him not since yesterday. + +_Cou_. Bu'y, Ladie.-- +How many mile ist to the next Cutlers? +The rogue has pawn'd or sold my sword. + [_Offers to go forth_. + +_Sis_. Dee heare, sir? +I can tell you now what Lady twas you did +Abuse so. + +_Cou_. I abuse a Ladie! tell me the slave +Reported it. I hope twill prove this Mounsieur. +If ere we meet agen! Who wast? + +_Sis_. Upon condition, sir, you will requite me +But with one gentle favour. + +_Cou_. Any thing-- + +_Sis_. You must sitt downe and heare me then while I +At a distance thus deliver-- + +_Cou_. Tis more state. + +_Sis_. I am most unfortunate. + +_Cou_. In what, deare Damsell? + +_Sis_. And much wrongd by a gentleman I lov'd. + +_Cou_. Can he be a gentleman that dares +Wrong so much love and beauty? what's the offence? + +_Sis_. He wo'not love agen. + +_Cou_. And you would have +The stubborne man corrected? + +_Sis_. I would be +Revengd if I knew how, and honour him +Should do me Justice. + +_Cou_. Name the man; Ile doot. + +_Sis_. I cannot. + +_Cou_. How? + +_Sis_. Yet turne your face: alas, it is yourselfe. +I have your word to punish him. + +_Cou_. Sweet Ladie, +I am well acquainted with the worthy gentleman, +But will not kill nor strike him, for I know +He has just reason not to love you--you +Of all your sex; he told me so. + +_Sis_. His reason? + +_Cou_. Was in these wordes; suppose you hear him speak it; +Now do you sit--Lady, when I consider you, +The perfect frame of what we can call hansome, +With all your attributes of soule and body, +Where no addition or detraction can +By _Cupids_ nicer Crittick find a fault, +Or _Mercury_ with your eternall flame; +And then consider what a thing I am +To this high Character of you, so low, +So lost to noble merits, I despaire +To love a Mistresse cannot love agen. + +_Sis_. This is a much dissembled Modesty. + +_Cou_. Therefore give me the kinder Chambermaid, +That will returne me love for my two peeces +And give me back twelve pennyworth agen, +Which is as much as I can well receave; +So there is thirty and nyne shillings cleere +Gotten in Love, and much good do her too't; +I thinke it very well bestow'd. + +_Sis_. But if I thinke you worthy, and accept +Your service, it destroies this other reason +For your despaire. Why, I can praise you, too. + +_Cou_. No, lett it alone I have other reasons Lady +Among my papers. But to love or to be in love +Is to be guld; that's the plaine _English_ of _Cupids Latine_. +Beside, all reverence to the calling, I +Have vowd never to marry, and you know +Love may bring a Man toot at last, and therefore +My fine Gewgaw do not abuse me. + +_Sis_. How can I +When you will neither Love nor marry me? + +_Cou_. I was not made for a husband. + +_Sis_. But I would make you. + +_Cou_. I know what you would make me. + + _Enter Servant_. + +_Ser_. Mounsier _Device_, if you be alone, would present his service. + +_Cou_. Is he come? + +_Sis_. Sir, do me but one favour, ile recant +My Love, I wonot have so much as one +Good thought on you; I will neglect you, sir, +Nay and abuse you, too, if you obscure +But for three minutes. + +_Cou_. Ile have patience so long. + +_Sis_. Admitt him.--I wilbe reveng'd o' somebody.-- +Now, Sir. + + _Enter Device_. + +_De_. I ha brought you a weapon, Lady. + +_La_. Mee, what to do, Sir? + +_De_. Tis Justice I present it to your feete +Whose love arm[e]d me to vindicate your honour. + +_Sis_. My honour? + +_De_. This is but the first of my valour in your cause; +If you affect these Monuments ile make +You up an Armorie; meane tyme receave +My Service with this sword: if he provoke me +To fight with him agen, Ile cut his hand of +And bring that wo' me to present the next. + +_Sis_. Whose hand, deare servant? + +_De_. He is not worth the nameing; las, this does not +Deserve your knowledge. Only thinke what I +Dare do when your bright name is question[e]d, +And I in tyme may merit to be cald +The darling of your virgin thoughts. + +_Sis_. I pray stay. +My name traduc'd? who was so impudent? +Do me the grace to let me know on whome +Your valour had been exercis'd. + +_De_. Why, the formall thing _Courtwell_; I would [not] call him +Gentleman; but that I ha baffled him +You need no other witnes but his sword +With that fine holliday hilt, Ladie. + + [_She shutts the Doore_. + +_Sis_. Looke you, sir, I ha made fast the Doore, +Because I meane before you goe to have +A satisfaction for the base injury +You ha done me. + +_De_. I done you injurie! + +_Sis_. Not that I value _Courtwell_, whome you would +Pretend has been to saucy with my honour; +But, cause I scorne to owne a goodnes should +Depend upon your sword or vindication, +Ile fight with you my selfe in this small vollume +Against your bulke in folio. + +_Cou_. Excellent wench! + +_De_. I was your Champion, lady. + +_Sis_. Ide rather have no fame then heare thee name it. +Thou fight for a Ladies honour and disarme +A gentleman, thou! fence before the pageants +And make roome for the porters, when like Elephants +They carry once a yeare the Citty Castles, +Or goe a feasting with the Drum and foot boyes +To the _Bankeside_ and save the Beares a whipping +That day thou art cudgeld for thy saucy challenging +A sergeant with one eye, that was to much too. +Come, Sir, I meane to have a bout with you. + +_De_. At that weapon? + +_Sis_. This, and no other. + +_De_. Ile rather bleed to death then lift a sword +In my defence, whose inconsiderate brightnes +May fright the Roses from your cheeke and leave +The Lillies to lament the rude divorce. +But were a Man to dare me, and your enemy, +My rage more nimble then [the] _Median_ shaft +Should flie into his bosome, and your eye +Change anger into smiles to see me fight +And cut him into a ragged staffe. + + _Enter Courtwell_. + +_Cou_. I can hold no longer. You have gott a stomack, Sir, with running; +ile try how you can eate a sword. + +_De_. Ha you an ambush, Lady? Ile cry out murder. +Is two to one faire play? + +_Cou_. Let me cut one legg of, to marre his running. + +_De_. Hold, let me speake. + +_Cou_. What canst thou say for thy baseness? + +_De_. Some men loves wit, and can without dishonour +Endure a jeast. Why, do you thinke I know not +You were here, and but obscur'd to see my humour. +I came to waite upon you with your sword, I. + +_Cou_. How came you by'te? confesse before this Lady. + +_De_. Dost thinke her witts so limber to believe +I could compell it from thee. Twas a trick, +A meere conceipt of mirth; thou sha't ha mine. +Dost thinke I stand upon a sword? Ile gi' thee +A case of Pistolls when we come to _London_; +And shoot me when I love thee not. Pox ont, +Thou apprehende'st me well enough. + +_Cou_. But I am not +Satisfied: do you affect this gentlewoman? + +_De_. Hum. + +_Cou_. You will resolve, sir? + +_De_. As may become a stranger; ile not loose +Thy friendship for all woman kind. + +_Cou_. He dares not owne you. + +_Sis_. I easilie forgive him; I should hate +My selfe, if I depended on his pitty. + +_Cou_. Th'art a noble wench. Shall we leave of +These jigs and speake our harts in earnest? By +These twin lips I love thee extreamely. + +_Sis_. Sweare by your owne. + +_Cou_. They shall bee mine. Mounsier, +For your penance you shall along and witnes. + +_Sis_. What, I pray? + +_Cou_. The Priest shall tell you; come, we have both dissembled, +We do love one another. + +_Sis_. Tis not possible. + +_Cou_. Unless you will denie me i'the church. +I ha vou'd to lie with you to night: _Device_, +Amble before and find the parson out; +We will bee friends and thou shalt be her father. + +_De_. I must maintaine my humour or be beaten. [_Ex_. + +_Cou_. Come, weele have no more acquainted. + +_Sis_. Very pretty. +--I may deceave you yet for all your confidence. + +_Cou_. If the skie fall weele have the larkes to supper. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +[SCENE 2.] + + + _Enter Ladie, Sir Francis, Dorothy_. + +_La_. It was strange neglect, sir. + +_Fra_. I confesse it, +And not deserve to live for't; yet if you +But knew my sufferings-- + +_La_. Let her be Judge. + +_Fra_. By no meanes, Madam. + +_La_. You may trust her knowledge. + +_Fra_. This is worse then a whipping now; these Ladies +Have no mercy on a delinquent. I must stand toot. +There is no tyrant to a chamberwoman +Made judg in such a cause; Ide give a Limbe +To be quit now, but, if she choose, I am +A Criple for this world. + +_Do_. Ist possible a man and such a beast? + +_Fra_. So, I must to the shameles. + +_La_. What punishment can be equall to the offence? + +_Do_. He lookes with some compunction for his fault. +Troth, Madam, choose an other night and trye +Whether he will sleepe agen. + +_Fra_. Mercifull wench! +If we peece agen it shall be a good turne in thy way. + +_La_. My husband is this day resolv'd for _London_; +It is his humour, or els, worse, suspition. +Ther's no pretence for him to stay behind. + +_Do_. You have made ill use of your time, Sir _Francis_; +I know not how to helpe you. Seaven yeare hence +You may have such an other oportunitie. + +_La_. Watch if my husband come not this way, _Dorothy_. +--Well, sir, though your transgresse deserve no pardon, +Yet I am charitable upon Condition-- + +_Fra_. Anything, Madam. This shewes exlent in you; +No pennance shall displease so you absolve me. +Bid me to clime some Rock or Pyramide, +Upon whose narrow spire you have advanc'd +My peace, and I will reach it or else fall, +Lost to the world in my attempt. + +_La_. You speake +Gloriously; the condition that assures +Your pardon, 's only this--that you conclude +Here all your loose desires with a resolve +Never to prosecute or hope to enjoy me. + +_Fra_. Call you this Charity? let me rather loose +Your pardon then for ever to be thus forfeited; +Bind me never to see you (and yet that +Were cruelty) then charme me to forgett +That I am man or have a hart, and you +A beauty, which your absence can as well +Make nothing as devide from my adoring. +It is not cure but killing to prescribe +I never must enjoy you. If you have +Resolv'd a Death upon me, let it bee +When we like Lovers have embrac'd-- + +_La_. It is not possible. + +_Fra_. Nothing in love +Can be impossible to willing mindes. +Ile tell you, Madam--(sure the Divell has +Forsworne the flesh)--there may be a plot. I have it! +An exelent rare devise, if you but favour it. +Your husband is imediately for _London_, +I must in modesty ride with him; you +Are left behind. + +_La_. How can that profitt you? + +_Do_.--What a deale of submission these foolish men +Trouble us women with, that are more forward +To be friends agen then they are! + +_Fra_. I will counterfeit a fall. + +_La_. A fall? + +_Fra_. I, from my horse; observe me, then-- + +_Do_.--My confederate, I hope, by this time is at gate +Enquiring for Sir _Richard_ very formally +From the old knight, his Master, and good Ladie. +The fellow has witt to manage it. + +_Fra_. My footman shall pretend himselfe the Surgeon +To attend me; is't not rare? +Stand but to'th fate of this, and if it faile +I will sitt downe a Convert and renounce +All wanton hope hereafter. Deerest Madam, +If you did meane before this honour to me, +Let not your loving thoughts freeze in a Minuit. +My genius is a prophet. + +_Do_. Sir _Richard_, Madam, +Is comeing this way. + +_Fra_. Shall I hope agen? + +_La_. I wo'not say you shall despaire. + +_Fra_. You blesse me. [_Exit_. + +_Do_. My busines is a foote; your Jewell, Madam, +Will credit much the cause. + +_La_. Wee will withdraw +And let me know how you have cast the plott. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +(SCENE 3.) + + + _Enter Sir Richard, opening a Letter; a Footman waiting_. + +_Ri_. From thy Master? his name? + +_Foo_. Sir _Walter Littleland_. + +_Ri_. I doe not know him. + +_Foo_. His name is well knowne in _Lincolnsheire_ neere the fenns: there +were his family antient gentlemen before the Conquest; some say ever +since the flood. + +_Ri_. _Littleland_! + +_Foo_. But he has now more land then three of the best in the shire, +thanke the _Duchmen_ that have drunk up all the water. + +_Ri_. They water drinkers? + +_Foo_. Why not, as well as eate dry land? they are lin'd with butter, +Sir, and feare no Dropsie. + +_Sir Richard reades_. + +_She has been absent theis two yeares; the occasion, her dislike and +disaffection to a gentleman whome I confesse I did too seveerely urge +her to marry. If she have liv'd with you, as my late intelligence hath +enformed me, in the nature of a servant, which is beneath my wishes and +her condition, I hope upon this knowledge you will with consideration of +her quality (she being the onely Child and heire to my fortune) use her +like a gentlewoman. And though my yeares have made me unfitt for +travell, I do intend, upon returne of your Letters, personally to give +you thankes for your respects to my Daughter, whome I shall receave as +new blessing from you, and be happie upon any turne presented to +expresse my selfe for your favours, your true friend and servant_ + _W. Littleland._ + +My maide _Dorothy_ a Knights Daughter and heire! Doe you know your yong +Mistresse. + +_Foo_. I shall be happie to see her and present her with a Letter & some +token from her Ladie Mother. + +_Ri_. I pray trust me to deliver it. + +_Foo_. With all my hart, Sir, you may comand. + + [_Enter Thomas_. + +_Ri_. _Thomas_, pray entertaine this footman in the butterie; let him +drinke and refresh himselfe, and set the cold chine of Beefe before him: +he has ranne hard. + +_Tho_. That will stay his stomach, indeed, but Claret is your only +binder. + +_Foo_. Sack, while you live, after a heat, Sir. + +_Tho_. Please you, my friend, ile shew you the way to be drunke. + + [_Exit. [Tho. with footman_. + +_Ri_. To my loving Daughter. May not this be a trick? +By your favour, Madam. [_He opens the Letter_. + + _Enter Underwit_. + +Captaine, gather you the sence of that Letter while I peruse this. You +know Mistress _Dorothy_. + +_Un_. I have had a great desire to know her, I confess, but she is +still like the bottome of the map, _terra incognita_. I have been a +long tyme hovering about the _Magellan_ streights, but have made no +new discoveries. + +_Ri_. Ha! this is not counterfeit, I dare trust my owne Judgment; tis a +very rich one. I am confirmed, and will scale them up agen. My Ladies +woman Sir _Walter Littlelands_ Daughter and heire! What think you now of +Mistris _Dorothy_? + +_Un_. A great deale better than I did; and yet I have lov'd her this +halfe yeare in a kind of way. O' my conscience why may not I marry her? + +_Ri_. This Jewell was sent by her mother to her. + +_Un_. Deere Uncle conseale till I have talk'd with her. Oh for some +witchcraft to make all sure. + +_Ri_. I like this well; shees here. + + _Enter Dorothy_. + +_Un_. I vow, Mistris Dorothy, if I were immodest twas the meere impudence +of my sack and not my owne disposition; but if you please to accept my +love now, by the way of Marriage, I will make you satisfaction like a +gentleman in the point of honour. + +_Do_. Your birth and estate is to high and unequall for me, sir. + +_Un_. What care I for a portion or a face! She that has good eyes has +good----Give me vertue. + +_Do_. You are pleas'd to make your mirth of me. + +_Un_. By this Rubie, nay you shall weare it in the broad eye of the +world, dost thinke I am in Jeast. + +_Do_. Sir _Richard_-- + +_Un_. And were he ten Sir _Richards_, I am out of my wardship. + +_Do_.--How he flutters in the lime bush! it takes rarely. + +_Un_. What a necessary thing now were a household Chaplaine. + + [_Ext. [Dorothy & Underwit_. + +_Ri_. So, so, the wench inclines. I will hasten my journey that I may +appear with more excuse when they are married in my absence. + + _Enter Captaine and Engine_. + +_Cap_. Sir, I heare you are for _London_ presentlie; +It will concerne you take this gentleman +Along w'ee to bee cur'd. + +_Ri_. Mr. _Engine_ sick! + +_Cap_. Oh, sir, +Dangerously; he has purg'd his stomack, but the ill spiritts +Are flowne into his head and spoild his eares. +He was ever troubled with Devices in his head; +I stronglie feare he must have his scull open'd, +His brains are very foule within. I know +And can direct you to an excle'nt Surgeon. + +_En_. I cannot heare you, Captaine-- + +_Cap_. One that has a rare dexteritie at lanceing +Or opening of a stomack that has crudities; +So neat at separation of a limbe +And quartering of treason. + +_Ri_. You meane the hangman? + +_Cap_. He has practised late to mend his hand, and now +With the very wind and flourish of his instrument +He will strike flatt a projector at twelve score. + +_Ri_. Does he not heare you? + +_Cap_. He has lost that sence he saies, unless he counterfeits; +It wilbe your securitie to see him +Safe in the Surgeons hands. + [_they whisper_. + +_En_.--Into what misery have my Projects flung me! +They shanot know I understand 'em. That +I were quitt with loss of both my eares, although +I cut my haire like a Lay Elder, too, +To shew the naked conyholes! I doe thinke +What cursed Balletts will be made upon me +And sung to divilish tunes at faire and Marketts +To call in cutpurses. In a puppet play, +Were but my storie written by some scholler, +Twould put downe _hocas pocas_ and the tumblers +And draw more audience than the Motion +Of _Ninivie_[275] or the dainty docile horse[276] +That snorts at _Spaine_ by an instinct of Nature. + +_Cap_. Ile leave him to you and seeke out Captaine _Underwit_. + [_Exit_. + +_Ri_. Come, Master _Engine_, weele to horse imediately. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + +[SCENE 4.] + + + _Enter Courtwell, Sister and Device_. + +_Cou_. So, we are fast enough, and now I have thee +Ile tell thee all the fault I find; thou hast +A little too much witt to bee a wife; +It could not be too nimble for a Mistresse.-- +_Device_, there is a part still of your pennance +Behind. You would pretend to be a Poet; +Ile not disgrace the name to call thee one, +But let me have rimes against we go to bed, +Two Anagrams that weigh an ounce, with coment, +And after that in verse your Affidavit +That you do wish us joy, and I discharge you. + +_De_. Tis tyme I were at study then. + +_Cou_. About e'm: +Your double congey and depart with silence. [_Exit Device_. +Now prethe tell me who reported I +Had wrong'd a Ladie? Wast not thy revenge +To make me angrie? + +_Sis_. Twas, indeed. Now tell me: +Why at the first approach seem'd you so modest? +You have confidence to spare now. + +_Cou_. Troth I came not +With any wooing purpose; only to please +My Uncle, and try thy witt; and that converted me. + + _Enter Thomas_. + +_Tho_. Did you see my Master, Captaine _Underwit_? + +_Cou_. Yes, hee's talking with the priest and Mistris _Dorothy_. + +_Tho_. Her fathers footman was here; she is a knights daughter +And heire, but she does not know it yet. + +_Sis_. I thinke so. + +_Cou_. Where's my Uncle. + +_Tho_. A mile ons way to _London_ by this tyme with +Sir _Richard_. I long to see my Master. [_Exit_. + +_Cou_. Wee shall want companie to dance. + + _Enter Ladie_. + +_Sis_. My Sister. + +_Cou_. If you please, Madam, you may call me Brother: +We have been at 'I _John_ take the _Elizabeth_'. +A possett and foure naked thighes a bed +To night will bid faire earnest for a boy, too. + +_Sis_. Tis even so; Madam, the preist has done it. + +_La_. May then all joyes attend you; if this had +Been knowne, it might have staid Sir _Richard_ and +Your Uncle one day more. + + _Enter Underwit, Dorothy, Captaine, Thomas_. + +_Un_. Come for another Couple. + +_Tho_. In hell[277]; my Master is married. + +_La_. My husband left some letters and a token +Was sent you Mistris _Dorothy_. You did ill +To obscure your selfe so much; you shall not want +Hereafter all respects that may become you. + +_Do_. Madam, I know not what you meane. + +_Cap_. She wonot take it upon her yet. + +_Un_. Theres the sport. + + _Enter Device_. + +_De_. Oh, Madam, newes, ill newes, an accident +Will blast all your mirth: Sir _Francis_-- + +_Cou: La_. What of him? + +_De_. Has brooke-- + +_Cou_. His neck? + +_De_. You guest very neere it, but his shoulder +Has sav'd that joynt. A fall from's horse, they say, +Hath much endanger'd him. + +_Cou_. My Uncle hurt! [_Exit_. + +_La_. He has kept his word; now if he but counterfeit handsomely. + +_Un_. Mounsier _Device_, I must entreat a Courtesie; you have wit, and +I would have a Masque to entertaine my new father-in-law Sir _Walter +Littleland_. Mistres _Dorothy_, now my wife, is his onely Daughter and +heire. + +_Do_. Who has guld you thus? I am no knights _Daughter_; +You may share your poeticall invention, sir. + +_De_. Give you joy, Captaine. + +_Un_. She is still loth to confesse it. + + _Enter Sir Francis, Lady, Courtwell, Sister, Captaine_. + +_Fra_. If you have charity a bone setter. + +_La_. He does counterfeit rarely.--Wheres Sir _Richard_? + +_Fra_. He rid before, but I sent my footman to tell him this misfortune. +Oh, Madam! + +_La_.--This is better then the toothack; he carries it excellently. + +_Fra_. Aske me no torturing questions; I desire, +Madam, a little conference with you. +Ile thanke the rest if they withdraw: oh! + +[_Cou_.[278]] Letts leave him. + +_Un_. Wee'le to my chamber, captaine. + +_Cap_. You have a mind to examine the business privatly? + +_Do_. No, good Captaine, you may be present. + +_Cou_. Come, _Thomas_, thou shat be witnes, too. + + [_Ext. all but Sir Francis and Lady_. + +_La_. They are gone; they feigne most artificially, +Let me embrace you. + +_Fra_. Oh, take heed. + +_La_. What's the matter? + +_Fra_. Tis no dissembling,--Madam; I have had +A fall indeed, a dreadfull fall; I feele it. +I thinke my horse saw the Divell in some hedge: +Ere I had rid three furlongs, gave a start, +Pitcht me of ons back like a barr and broke +A flint with my shoulder, I thinke, which strooke fire too; +There was something like it in my eyes, Ime punish'd. + +_La_. But is this serious? are you hurt indeed? + +_Fra_. Hurt? I ha broke my shoulder feelingly, +And I am of opinion when I doe +Enjoy you, Madam, I shall breake my neck; +That will be next. Ile take this for a warning +And will leave of in tyme. + +_La_. This makes me tremble. + +_Fra_. I will be honest now; and so forgive me. +Not the Surgeon come yet? + +_La_. Heaven hath cur'd us both. + +_Fra_. I am not cured yet. Oh for the bone setter! +If ere I counterfeit agen. + +_La_. There is a blessing falne upon my blood. +Your only charme had power to make my thoughts +Wicked, and your conversion disinchants me; +May both our lives be such as heaven may not +Grieve to have shew'd this bounty. + + _Enter Courtwell_. + +_Cou_. Sir _Richard_, Madam. + +_La_. You may enter now, sir. + + _Enter the rest and Sir Richard_. + +_Ri_. I do not like this stratageme; Sir _Francis_ +Must not heere practise his Court tricks; I wo'not + _Enter Surgeon_. +Trust my wives surgerie. Hee's come.--How ist, +Noble Sir _Francis_? Best withdraw; ile see +Him drest my selfe. [_They lead out Sir Francis_. + + _Enter Underwit, Dorothy, Captaine, Thomas_. + +_Un_. Madam and gentlemen, Mistris _Dorothy_ wo'not acknowledge she is +a knight's daughter; she sweares she knows no _Littleland_. + +_Do_. Till it appeare to whom this gemme was meant, +Deare Madame, be you treasurer. I confesse +I have wealth enough in such a noble husband. + +_La_. It shall belong to thee; be honest, _Dorothy_, +And use him well. + +_Do_. With my best study, Madam. + +_La_. Where is the footman you talke of? + +_Tho_. He pretended Letters to carry two mile of to a kinsman of his +Masters, and returne presently. He dranke three or fower beere glasses +of sack, and he ran away so lightlie. + +_Do_. His reward shall overtake him. + +_Un_. Will you have her? she will doe you service, Captaine, in a _Low +Country_[279] Leaguer. Or thou, _Thomas_? ile give thee a Coppiehold. + +_Tho_. You have one life to come in that lease, yet I thank you: I am +free, and that's inheritance; for ought I know she may serve us both. + +_La_. Come you may perswade her to looke high and take it upon her for +your credit. The gullery is yet within these walles; let your shame goe +no farther. The wench may prove right, she may. + + _Enter Sir Richard_. + +_La_. What news from Sir _Francis_? + +_Ri_. Wife, I hardly aske thee forgivenes; I had jealous thoughts, but +all's right agen. + +_La_. I will deserve your confidence. + +_Ri_. No great danger, his blade bone dislocated; the man has put +everything in his right place. + +_Un_. Dee heare, Sir _Richard_? wee are married. + +_Ri_. Tis well done, send you joy; tis to my mind. + +_Un_. Come hither, _Dorothy_. + +_Cap_. But where's Mr. _Engine_? + +_Ri_. He rid before. + +_Cap_. If the rascall have any wit left he will ride quite away with +himselfe; tis his best course to fly oversea. + +_Tho_. If he were sure to flie, he were sure to escape. + +_Cap_. At the worst, drowning is a most [sic] honourable death then +hanging. + +_Do_. My mother died, I have it by tradition, +As soone as I was borne; my father (but +No knight) is now i'th _Indies_, a poore Merchant, +That broke for 20,000 pounds. + +_Ri_. The shipps may come home. Hee! + +_Do_. You were best use me well, now we are married. +I will be sworne you forc'd me to the Church +And thrice compeld me there to say _I Dorothy_. +The Parsons oath and mine, for ought I know, +May make it halfe a rape. + +_Ri_. There is no remedy; +We can prove no conspiracie. And, because +I have been gulld my selfe, gett her with child, +--My Doe is barren,--at birth of her first baby +Ile give her a hundred peeces. + +_Un_. That's somewhat yet, when charge comes on. Thy hand! a wife can be +but a wife: it shall cost me 500 pounds but ile make thee a Ladie in +earnest. + + _Enter Sir Francis and Surgeon_. + +_Ri_. How ist, Sir _Francis_? + +_Fra_. My Surgeon sayes no danger; when you please, +I may venture, Sir, to _London_. + +_Ri_. No hast now. + +_Cou_. Not to-night, Sir; wee must have revells and you salute my Bride. + +_Un_. And mine. + +_Tho_. A knights Daughter and heire. + +_Fra_. May all joy thrive upon your Loves. +--Then you are cosend of your Mistres, Mounseir? + +_Do_. But your nephew knowes I have met with my match. Some bodie has +been put to the sword. + +_Ri_. Come, we loose tyme. + +_Fra_. Preserve your marriage faith: a full increase +Of what you wish confirme your happinesse. + + [_Exeunt_. + + +FINIS. + + + + +APPENDIX I. + + +The folio volume numbered Eg. MS. 1,994 contains 349 leaves. It was +purchased by the British Museum, for the very modest sum of thirty-three +pounds, at the sale of Lord Charlemont's library on August 6, 1865. Mr. +Warner (of the Manuscript Department of the British Museum), to whom the +public are indebted for an excellent catalogue of the Dulwich +Collection, thinks that the volume originally belonged to Dulwich +College. Towards the end of the XVIIth century Cartwright, the actor, +bequeathed to the College a number of MS. plays, which the College +authorities in the middle of the last century exchanged (horrendum +dictu!) for tomes of controversial divinity. Of all the plays left by +the actor only one[280]--and that imperfect--remains. The late Lord +Charlemont was a friend of Malone, and it is well known that Malone had +many of the Dulwich documents in his possession for years. Mr. Warner's +theory is that Malone lent the volume to Lord Charlemont, and that it +was never returned. The objection that naturally suggests itself is, +"How came so acute a scholar as Malone to fail to draw attention to a +Collection of such considerable interest?" And I confess that I am not +able to offer any satisfactory answer. + +The volume contains in all fifteen plays, written in various hands. One +piece has the author's initials attached, but the others have neither +name nor initials. + +First in order, leaves 1-29, stands Fletcher's _Elder Brother_. I have +compared the MS. with Dyce's text, and find the variations to be few and +unimportant. In III. 3 Dyce follows the old copies in reading:-- + + What a noise is in this house! my head is broken + Within a parenthesis: in every corner, + As if the earth were shaken with some strange colic, + There are stirs and motions. + +As the words "within a parenthesis" were found in all the old copies +Dyce did not feel justified in rejecting them, although he had only the +most grotesque meaning to assign to them. Theobald rightly saw that +"within a parenthesis" was a marginal note, mistaken for a part of the +text when the book was sent to press. The MS. gives-- + + Sweet heart, + What noyse is in this house? my head is broken + In every corner, as the earth were shaken + With some strange Collick: there are stirs and motions: + What planet rules this house? Whos there? + +In III. 5 the MS. supports Mason's correction "Their blue veins _and_ +blush disclose," where Dyce followed the old reading "_in_ blush."--At +the end of the play, after the Epilogue, are written the three following +Epigrams:-- + + A freemans life is like a pilgrimage: + What's his life then that lives in mariage? + Tis _Sisyphus_ his toyle that with a stone + Doth doe what surely for ease must be done. + His labours journey's endles; 'tis no riddle, + Since he's but halfe on's way that stands inth' middle. + + _Ad Janum_. + + Take comfort, _Janus_; never feare thy head + Which to the quick belongs, not to the dead. + Thy wife did lye with one; thou, being dead drunke, + Then art no Cuckold though she bee a Punke. + + Tis not the state nor soveraintie of _Jove_ + Could draw thy pure affections from my love: + Nor is there any _Venus_ in the skyes + Could from thy lookes withdraw my greedy eyes. + +Leaves 30-51 are taken up with _Dick of Devonshire_. Then follows an +unnamed play (leaves 52-73), written in a villainous hand. If I succeed +in transcribing this play I shall print it in the third volume, for it +seems to be an unpublished play of Heywood's. The next piece, entitled +_Calisto_ (leaves 74-95), which is written in the same hand, consists of +scenes from Heywood's _Golden Age_ and _Silver Age_. There are many +variations from the printed copies, showing that the most active of the +old playwrights found time to revise his works. Here is a song that was +omitted in the printed copy. Its proper place in Pearson's _Reprint_ of +Heywood is vol. iii. p. 67:-- + + Whether they be awake or sleepe, + With what greate Care ought Virgins keepe, + With what art and indevor, + The Jewell which they ought to pryse + Above the ritchest marchandise,-- + And once lost lost for ever! + + Virginity is a rare gem, + Rated above a diadem, + And was despised never: + 'Tis that at which the most men ayme + And being gott they count their game + And once lost lost for ever. + +Of the charming song "Haile beauteous _Dian_, Queene of Shades" the MS. +gives a far inferior version:-- + + Thou _Trivia_, dost alone excell, + In heaven when thou dost please to dwell + Cald _Cynthia, Proserpine_ in Hell: + But when thou theair art fyred + And takest thy bugle and thy bowe, + To chase on Earth the hart or doe, + Thee for _Diana_ all men knowe, + Who art mongst us admired: + _Pan_ and _Pomona_ boath rejoyce, + So swaynes and nimphes with pipe and voyce. + + Off all chast vestalls thou art queene + Which are, which heretofore have been; + The fawnes and satyres cladd in greene + On earth wayte to attend thee; + And when that thou on huntinge goest, + In which thou art delighted moest, + They off their active swiftnes boast, + For which we all comend thee. + _Pan_ and _Pomona_ boath rejoyce, + So swaynes and nimphes with pipe and voyce. + +We come now to a chronicle play (leaves 97-118), _Edmond Ironside: The +English King_. This piece had a second title--_A trew Chronicle History +called War hath made all friends_. It must be confessed that this old +play is a tedious business, sadly wanting in life and movement. The +following extract will give a taste of the author's quality:-- + + _Enter Canutus, Edricus with other Lords and souldiers_. + + _Canutus_. A plague upon you all for arrant cowards! + Looke how a dunghill cocke not rightly bred + Doth come into the pitt with greater grace, + Brislinge his feathers, settinge upp his plumes, + Clappinge his winges and crowinge lowder out + Then doth a cocke of game that meanes to fight; + Yett after, when he feeles the spurres to pricke, + Crakes like a Craven and bewrayes himself: + Even soe my bigbond _Daines_, adrest to fight + As though they meant to scale the Cope of heaven, + (And like the Giants graple with the gods) + At first encounter rush uppon theire foes + But straight retire: retire? nay, run awaye + As men distraught with lightninge from above + Or dastards feared with a sodaine fraye. + + _Edricus_. Renowned Soveraigne, doe not fret your self. + Fortune in turninge will exalt your state + And change the Countenaunce of her cloudy browe, + Now you must hope for better still and better + And _Edmond_ must expect still worse and worse, + A lowringe morning proves a fayer daye, + Fortunes ilfavord frowne shewes shee will smile + On you and frowne on _Ironside_. + + _Canutus_. What telst thou mee of fortune and her frownes, + Of her sower visage and her rowling stone? + Thy tongue rowles headlong into flattery. + Now by theis heavens above our wretched heades + Ye are but cowards every one of you! + _Edmond_ is blest: oh, had I but his men, + I would not doute to conquer all the world + In shorter time the [then] _Alexander_ did. + But all my _Daines_ are Braggadochios + And I accurst to bee the generall + Of such a stocke of fearefull runawaies. + + _South_. Remember you have lost Ten Thousand men, + All _English_ borne except a Thousand _Daines_. + Your pensive lookes will kill them that survive + If thus to Choller you give libertie. + + _Canutus_. It weare no matter if they all weare slaine, + Then they should neaver runne awaye againe. + + _Uska_. My noble lord, our Cuntrymen are safe: + In all their broyles _English_ gainst _English_ fight; + The _Daines_ or none or very few are slaine. + + _Canutus_. It was a signe yee fledd and did not fight. + [_turns towards Uskatant_. + Ist not a dishonour unto you + To see a foraingne nation fight for mee + Whenas my homebred Cuntrymen doe runne, + Leaving theire king amongest his enimies? + + _Edricus_. Give not such scoope to humerous discontent, + Wee all are partners of your privat greefes. + Kinges are the heads, and yf the head but ache + The little finger is distempered. + Wee greeve to se you greeved, which hurteth us + And yet availes not to asswage your greefe. + You are the Sunne, my lo:, wee Marigolds; + Whenas you shine wee spred our selves abroad + And take our glory from your influence; + And when you hide your face or darken yt + With th'least incounter of a clowdy looke, + Wee close our eies as partners of your woes, + Droopinge our heades as grasse downe waid with due. + Then cheere ye upp, my lord, and cheere upp us, + For now our valours are extinguished + And all our force lyes drownd in brinish teares, + As Jewells in the bottome of the sea. + --I doe beseech your grace to heare mee speake. + [_Edricus talks to him_. + +The next piece (leaves 119-135), which is without a title, is founded on +the Charlemagne romances. My friend, Mr. S.L. Lee, editor of _Huon of +Bordeaux_, in answer to my inquiries writes as follows: "Almost all the +characters in this play are the traditional heroes of the French +Charlemagne romances, and stand in the same relation to one another as +in the _Lyf of Charles the Grete_ and the _Four Sons of Aymon_, both of +which were first printed by Caxton, and secured through later editions a +wide popularity in England during the XVIth century. I believe, however, +that the story of the magic ring is drawn from another source. It is +unknown to the Charlemagne romances of France and England, but it +appears in several German legends of the Emperor, and is said to be +still a living tradition at Aix-la-Chapelle, where the episode is +usually localised (cf. Gaston, Paris, _Histoire Poetique de +Charlemagne_, p. 383). Petrarch has given a succinct account of it in a +letter written from Cologne, in which he states that he learnt it from +the priests of the city, and it is through his narrative that the legend +appears to have reached England. John Skelton in his poem 'Why come ye +not to court?' quotes the story, and refers to the Italian poet as his +authority (cf. Dyce's Skelton, II. 48 and 364, where the letter is +printed at length). Southey has also made the tradition the subject of a +ballad entitled _King Charlemain_ to which he has prefixed a French +translation of the passage of Petrarch. In 1589 George Peele in a +_Farewell_ addressed to Morris and Drake on setting out with the English +forces for Spain tells them to + + Bid theatres and proud tragedians, + Bid Mahomet, Scipio, & mighty Tamburlaine, + King _Charlemagne_, Tom Stukeley and the rest + Adieu. + +Dyce, in a note on this passage (Dyce's Peele, II. 88) writes: 'No drama +called _Charlemagne_ has come down to us, nor am I acquainted with any +old play in which that monarch figures.' But we know from Henslowe's +diary that in at least two plays that were dramatised from Charlemagne +romances the Emperor must have taken a part." Mr. Lee concludes his most +interesting note by suggesting that the present play may be the one to +which Peele alludes; but he will at once perceive from my extracts that +the date 1589 is much too early. Here is a passage that might have been +written by Cyril Tourneur:-- + + [_Ganelon_ stabs _Richard_, his dearest friend, + suspecting him of treachery.] + + _Rich_. O you've slayne me! tell me, cruell sir, + Why you have doone thys, that myne innocent soule + May teache repentance to you-- _dies_. + + _Gan_. Speake it out,-- + What, not a worde? dumbe with a littill blowe? + You are growne statlye, are you? tys even so: + You have the trycke of mightie men in courte + To speake at leasure and pretend imployment. + Well, take your tyme; tys not materyall + Whether you speake the resydue behynde + Now or at doomes day. If thy common sence + Be not yet parted from thee, understand + I doe not misse thee dyinge because once + I loved thee dearlye; and collect by that + There is no Devyll in me nor in hell + That could have flesht me to this violent deathe + Hadst thou beene false to all the world but me. + +The concentrated bitterness of those lines is surpassed by nothing in +the _Revenger's Tragedy_. Indeed, I am inclined to believe that the +whole play, which is very unskilfully constructed, is by Tourneur, or +perhaps by the author[281] of the _Second Maiden's Tragedy_. All the +figures are shrouded in a blank starless gloom; to read the play is to +watch the riot of devils. Here is an extract from the scene where +_Orlando_, returning from the wars, hears that _Charlemagne_, his uncle, +has married _Ganelon's_ niece, and that his own hopes of succession have +been ruined by the birth of a son:-- + + _Orl[ando.]_ I am the verye foote-ball of the starres, + Th'anottomye of fortune whom she dyssects + With all the poysons & sharpe corrosyves + Stylld in the lymbecke of damde pollycie. + My starres, my starres! + O that my breath could plucke theym from theire spheares + So with theire ruyns to conclude my feares. + + _Enter La Buffe_. + + _Rei[naldo.]_ Smoother your passions, Sir: here comes his sonne-- + A propertie oth court, that least his owne + Ill manners should be noted thyeks it fytt + In pollycie to scoffe at other mens. + He will taxe all degrees & thynke that that + Keepes hym secure from all taxation. + + _Orl_. Y'are deceyvd; it is a noble gentyllman + And hated of hys father for hys vertues. + + _Buf_. Healthe and all blessinge wherewith heauen and earthe + May comforte man, wayte on your excellence! + + _Orl_. Although I know no mans good wyshe or prayrs + Can ere be heard to my desyred good, + I am not so voyde of humanytie + But I will thancke your loue. + + _Rei_. Pray, Sir, what newse + Hath the courte latterly beene deliverd of? + + _Buf_. Such as the gallymaufry that is fownd + In her large wombe may promise: he that has + The fayrest vertues weares the foulest shyrte + And knowes no shyfte for't: none but journeymen preists + Invay agaynst plurallytie of liueinge + And they grow hoarse ithe cause, yet are without + The remedye of sugar candye for't. + Offices are like huntinge breakfasts gott + Hurlye burlye, snatcht with like greedynes, + I & allmost disjested too assoone. + + _Oli[ver]_. I, but in sober sadnes whatts doone there? + + _Buf_. Faythe, very littill, Sir, in sober sadnes, + For there disorder hurryes perfect thyngs + To mere confussyon; nothing there hath forme + But that which spoyles all forme, & to be shorte + Vice only thrives & merrytt starves in courte. + + _Rei_. What of the maryadge of your noble aunte + Oure fayre eied royall empresse? + + _Buf_. Trothe I wonderd, Sir, + You spooke of that no sooner, yet I hope + None here are jealyous that I brought one sparke + To kyndell that ill flame. + + _Orl_. No, of my trothe, + I knowe thee much too honest; but how fares + The Empresse now, my dear exequetresse? + + _Buf_. Sir, as a woman in her casse may doe; + Shee's broughte [to] bedd. + + _Rei_. What, has she a chylde then? + + _Buf_. I, my Lord. + + _Orl_. A Sonne? + + _Buf_. Mys-fortune hathe inspyrd you, Sir; tys true. + + _Orl_. Nay when my fortune faylls me at a pynche + I will thynke blasphemy a deede of merrytt. + --O harte, will nothing breake the? + + _Rei_. Tis most straunge. + + _Orl_. Straunge? not a whytt. Why, if she had beene spayd + And all mankynd made Euenucks, yet in spyght + My ill fate would have gotten her with chylde-- + Of a son too. Hencefourthe let no man + That hathe a projecte he dothe wishe to thryve + Ere let me knowe it. My mere knowledge in't + Would tourne the hope't successe to an event + That would fryghte nature, & make patyence braule + With the most pleasinge obiecte. + + _Buf_. Sir, be at peace; + Much may be found by observatyon. + + _Orl_. Th'arte bothe unfriendlie & uncharytable. + Thys observation thou advysest to + Would ryvett so my thoughts uppon my fate + That I should be distrackt. I can observe + Naughte but varyetye of mysseries + Crossynge my byrthe, my blood and best endevours. + I neare did good for any but great _Charles_, + And the meare doing that hath still brought fourth + To me some plague too heavye to be borne, + But that I am reserud onlye to teach + The studyed envye of mallignant starrs. + If fortune be blynde, as the poetts houlde, + It is with studyinge myne afflictions: + But, for her standing on a roullinge stone, + Theare learninge faylls theym, for she fixed stands + And onlye against me. + +I may perhaps be tempted to print this play in full. The MS. has +suffered somewhat, many lines having been cut away at the foot of some +of the pages. Although the first scene is marked _Act 2, Scene 2_,[282] +the play seemed to me to be complete. On the last leaf is written "Nella +[Greek: phdphnr] la B." Some name is possibly concealed under these +enigmatic letters; but the riddle would defy an Oedipus. + +The next play (leaves 136-160) is entitled _The fatal Maryage, or a +second Lucreatya_. _Galeas_, on returning from the wars, crowned with +praises, is requested by his widowed mother to make a journey into the +province of _Parma_ to receive moneys owed by Signor _Jouanny_. On his +arrival he falls in love with _Jouanny's_ daughter, _Lucretia_, runs +away with her, and secretly marries her. _Galeas'_ mother, angered at +the match, practises to convey _Lucretia_ to a nunnery and get her son +married to an earl's daughter; but _Galeas_ defeats his mother's +machinations by killing himself and _Lucretia_. There is a second plot +to this odd play, but enough has been said. The meeting between _Galeas_ +and _Jouanny_ is the best thing in the play:-- + + _Enter Galeas & Jacomo_. + + _Ga_. You spake with him as I comanded you? + + _Jac_. And had his promise to meet you presently. + + _Ga_. I have heard much fame of him since my arrive, + His generall nature, hospitable love; + His [He's?] good to all men, enemy to none. + Indeed he has that perfect character + Before I see him I'm in love with him. + + _Jac_. Hee has the fame few Cittizens deserve. + + _Ga_. Why, sir, few Cittizens? + + _Jac_. His words his bond, and does not break that bond + To bankrupt others; he makes you not a library + Of large monopolie to cosen all men: + _Subintelligitur_, he hates to deale + With such portentious othes as furr his mouth + In the deliverance. + + _Enter Jouanny_. + + _Ga_. Hee comes himselfe. + + _Jou_. Sir _Galeas_, if I mistake not? + + _Ga_. I weare my fathers name, sir. + + _Jou_. And tis a dignity to weare that name. + Whatts your affairs in _Parma_? + + _Ga_. To visit you, sir. + + _Jou_. Gladness nor sorrow never paid mans debts. + --Your pleasure, sir? + + _Ga_. The livery of my griefe: my fathers dead + And mee hath made his poore executor. + + _Jou_. What? ought hee ten thousand duckets? + Thy fathers face fixt in thy front + Should be the paymaster tho from my hand. + + _Ga_. I doe not come to borrow: please yee read. + + _Jou_. Read? and with good regard, for sorrow paies noe debts. + + _Ga_. The summes soe great I feare, once read by him, + My seeming frend will prove my enemy. + + _Jac_. Faith, if he doe, hee proves like your French + galloshes that promise faire to the feet, yet twice a day + leave a man in the durt. + + _Jou_. Was this your fathers pleasure? + + _Ga_. It was his hand. + + _Jou_. It was his writing, I know it as my owne, + Wherein hee has wronged mee beyond measure? + + _Ga_. How? my father wrongd yee? I'm his sonn. + + _Jou_. Wert thou his father I'm wrongd,-- + Iniurd, calumniated, baffled to my teeth; + And were it not that these gray haires of mine + Were priviledgd ane enemy to vallour, + I have a heart could see your fathers wrong-- + + _Ga_. What? raile you, sir? + + _Jac_. Challenge a half pint pot. + + _Jou_. There in a sawpitt, knave, to quitt my self + Of such an inury.--Hee writes mee here + That I should pay to you tenn thousand crownes. + + _Ga_. As being due to him. + + _Jou_. But thatts not my quarrell, sir; for I did owe to him + Millions of Crownes, millions of my love;-- + And but to send a note here for his owne! + Ist not a quarrell for an honest man? + + _Jac_. With very few, I thinke. + + _Jou_. Why, looke yee, sir: + When after many a storme and dreadfull blow + Strooke from fire-belching clouds, bankrupt of life + I have home return'd; when all my frends denide + Their thresholds to mee, and my creditors + Desir'd to sinke mee in a prisoners grave, + Hee gave mee dying life, his helpefull hand + Sent mee to sea and kept mee safe on land. + Ist not a quarrell then to seeke butts owne? + + _Ga_. Oh, pray, sir-- + + _Jou_. When all the talents of oppression + Of usurers, lawyers and my creditors + Had fangd upon my wife and family, + Hee gave mee dying life, his helpfull hand + Sent mee to sea and kept mee safe on land. + Ist not a quarrell then to seeke but's owne? + + _Ga_. Good sir-- + + _Jou_. Come in, sir, where I will pay all that you can demand: + Noe other quarrell, sir, shall passe your hand. + + _Ga_. If every [one] should pay as well as you + The world were good, wee should have bankrupts few. + + _Jac_. I'm of your mind for that. [_Exeunt_. + +We now come to a play (leaves 161-185), without title, and wanting some +leaves at the end, on the subject of Richard the Second. I think with +Mr. Halliwell-Phillipps, who printed eleven copies of this piece, that +it is anterior to Shakespeare's play. There is less extravagance of +language than in most of the plays belonging to that early date (circ. +1593?); and the blank verse, though it is monotonous enough, has perhaps +rather more variety than we should expect to find. Much of the play is +taken up with _Greene_ and _Baggott_; but the playwright has chiefly +exerted himself in representing the murder of _Woodstock_ at Calais. +Before the murder, _Woodstock_ falls asleep, and there appears to him +the ghost of the _Black Prince_: + + ... Oh I am nought but ayre: + Had I the vigour of my former strength + When thou beheldst me fight at _Cressy_ feild, + Wher hand to hand I tooke King _John_ of _France_ + And his bould sonns my captive prisoners, + Ide shake these stiff supporters of thy bed + And dragg thee from this dull securyty. + Oh yett for pittye wake; prevent thy doome; + Thy blood upon my sonne will surely come: + For which, deere brother _Woodstocke_, haste and fly, + Prevent his ruein and thy tragedy. [_Exit Ghoste_. + +Undisturbed by this appeal, _Woodstock_ slumbers on. Then enters the +ghost of _Edward the Third_. His speech is worthy of Robert Greene:-- + + Sleepst thou so soundly and pale death so nye? + _Thomas_ of _Woodstocke_, wake my sone and fly. + Thy wrongs have roused thy royall fathers ghost, + And from his quiat grave king _Edwards_ come + To guard thy innocent life, my princely sonne. + Behould me heere, sometymes faire _Englands_ lord: + (7) warlicke sonnes I left, yett being gone + No one succeeded in my kingly throne, &c. + +I will not inflict more of this stuff on the reader. Suffice it to say +that _Woodstock_ wakes in terror and calls aloud. _Lapoole_, the +governor of the city, who is close at hand with two murderers, enters +and comforts him. Here the playwright shows a touch of pathos:-- + + Good nyght, _Lapoole_, and pardon me, I prethee, + That my sadd feare made question of thy faith. + My state is fearefull and my mynd was troubled + Even at thy entrance with most fearefull vissions + Which made my passiones more extreame and hastye. + Out of my better judgment I repent itt + And will reward thy love: once more, good nyght. + +Now follows the _Lady Mother_ (leaves 186-211), which I have proved to +be a play of Glapthorne's. No doubt it is the same piece as the _Noble +Trial_, entered on the Stationers' Registers, June 29, 1660, but not +printed. + +Then we have a masque (leaves 212-223). On the first page are given the +_nomina actorum_, and underneath is written "August 5th, 1643." I was +surprised to find in this masque a long passage that occurs also in +Chapman's _Byron's Tragedie_ (ed. Pearson, ii. 262). Ben Jonson said (to +Drummond of Hawthornden) that only he and Chapman knew how to write a +masque. The remark has always puzzled me, and certainly I should never +have thought of Chapman's name in connexion with this masque. Here is an +extract, containing the passage from _Byron's Tragedie_:-- + + _Love_. For thy sake, Will, I feathered all my thoughts + And in a bird's shape flew in to her bosome, + The bosome of _Desert_, thy beautious Mistris, + As if I had been driven by the hauke + In that sweet sanctuary to save my liffe. + She smild on me, cald me her prety bird, + And for her sport she tyed my little legs + In her faire haire. Proud of my golden fetters + I chirped for Joy; she confident of my lameness, + Soon disintangled me & then she percht me + Upon her naked breast. There being ravishd + I sung with all my cheere and best of skill. + She answered note for note, relish for relish, + And ran division with such art and ease + That she exceeded me. + + _Judgment_. There was rare musicke. + + _Love_. In this swete strife, forgetting where I stood. + I trod so hard in straining of my voice + That with my claw I rent her tender skin; + Which as she felt and saw vermillion follow + Stayning the cullor of _Adonis_ bleeding + In _Venus_ lap, with indignation + She cast me from her. + + _Will_. That fortune be to all that injure her. + + _Love_. Then I put on this shepheards shape you see; + I tooke my bow and quiver as in revenge + Against the birds, shooting and following them + From tre to tre. She passing by beheld + And liked the sport. I offerrd her my prey, + Which she receved and asked to feele my bowe; + Which when she handled and beheld the beauty + Of my bright arrowes, she began to beg em. + I answered they were all my riches, yet + I was content to hazard all and stake em + Downe to a kiss at a game at chess with her. + "Wanton," quoth she, being privy to her skill, + "A match!" Then she with that dexterrytey + Answered my challenge that I lost my weapons: + Now _Cupides_ shaffts are headed with her lookes. + My mother soone perceiving my disgrace, + My Arms beinge lost and gon which made me a terror + To all the world, she tooke away my wings, + Renouncd me for her child and cast me from her; + And more, to be revengd upon _Desert_, + Comanded _Danger_ to be her strong keeper, + That should she empt my quiver at the hearts + Of men they might not dare to court her, fearing + That horrid mischiefe that attends [on] her. + On this I threw me headlong on the sea + To sleepe my tyme out in the bottome off it; + Whence you have puld me up to be a scorne + To all the World. + + _Will_. Not so, my prety boy, Ill arme the againe; + My breast shall be thy quiver, my sighes thy shaffts: + And heres an opportunytey to be wingd againe; + Se here the wings of _Fortune_. + + _Love_. _Fortunes_ wings + Are full of giddy feathers to unsure + For me to fly with all, but I will stay with you, + I like so well this aire; onely you must + Provide to keepe me from the hands of _Danger_ + That wayts upon _Dessert_. + + _Will_. Our selfes and all + _Arcadia_ shall be your guard and wher + _Love_ passes and recides he shall be allwayes + Armd and attended by a band of lovers, + Such faithfull ones as if that ugly _Danger_ + Were _Lucifer_ himselfe, they should defend you. + +Next on our List (leaves 224-244) is the _Two Noble Ladyes, or the +Converted Conjurer_. This "Tragicomicall Historie often tymes acted with +approbation at the _Red Bull_ in St. _John's_ Streete by the company of +the Revells," is a coarse noisy play. The comic part consists of the +most absurd buffoonery, and the rest is very stilted. But there is one +scene--and one only--which shows genuine poetic power. It is where +_Cyprian_, the sorcerer, having by his magical arts saved _Justina_, a +Christian maiden, tries to gain her love:-- + + _Enter Cyprian and Justina_. + + _Cyprian_. Doe not disdayne, faire peece of Natures pride, + To heare him plead for love that sav'd thy life. + It was my pow'rfull arte produc'd those monsters + To drowne those monstrous executioners + That should have wrought your wracke. + + _Justina_. Sir, I am sorry + Hell had a hand in my delivery: + That action cannot merrit my affection. + + _Cyprian_. I not alleadge it for desert of grace + But argument of mercie: pitty him + That in distresse so lately pitty'd you. + + _Justina_. I am the troth-plight wife of _Clitophon_, + The Prince of _Babylon_; hee has my hart, + And theres no share for others. + + _Cyprian_. That high state + Is now at a low ebbe: destruction + Hangs like a threatning Commet ore the walls + Of _Babilon_. Then fix thy love on him + That can more then the greatest prince on earth. + Love mee, and princes shall thy pages bee; + Monarchs shall lay their crownes and royalties + As presents at thy feet; the _Indian_ mynes + Shall be thy ioyntures; all the worldes rich marchants + Shall bring their pearles and pretious stones to thee, + Sweet gums and spices of _Arabia_, + Fine _Median_ linnen and Barbarian silkes; + The earth shall beare no fruit of raritie + But thou shalt taste it. Weele transforme ourselves + In quaintest shapes to vary our delights. + And in a chariot wrought out of a cloud, + Studded with starres, drawne through the subtle aire + By birds of paradise, wee'll ride together + To fruitfull _Thessalie_, where in fair _Tempe_ + (The only pleasant place of all the earth) + Wee'll sport us under a pavilion + Of _Tyrian_ scarlet. + + _Justina_. Should these rarities + (Faithlesse as are your wondrous promises) + Lead me into the hazard of my soule + And losse of such ay-lasting happinesse + As all earths glories are but shaddows to? + + _Cyprian_. Thincke you this rare pile of perfection. + Wherein Love reads a lecture of delight, + Ows not it's use to Nature? There is love + In every thing that lives: the very sunne + Does burne in love while we partake his heate; + The clyming ivy with her loving twines + Clips the strong oake. No skill of surgerie + Can heale the wounds, nor oceans quench the flames + Made by all pow'rfull love. Witnesse myselfe: + Since first the booke of your perfections + Was brought so neare than I might read it ore, + I have read in it charmes to countermand + All my enchantments and enforce mee stoop + To begge your love. + + _Justina_. How ere you please to style + A lustfull appetite, it takes not mee. + Heav'n has my bow my life shall never bee + Elder then my unstain'd virginitie. + + _Cyprian_. Virginitie! prize you so dearely that + Which common things cast of? Marke but the flow'rs + That now as morning fresh, fragrant and faire, + Lay ope their beautys to the courting sunne, + And amongst all the modest mayden rose: + These wanton with the aire until unleavd + They die and so loose their virginitie. + + _Justina_. In _India_ there is a flow'r (they say) + Which, if a man come neare it, turnes away: + By that I learne this lesson, to descrie + Corrupt temptations and the tempter flie. + +Leaves 245-267 are taken up with the _Tragedy of Nero_, which was +printed in 1624. Then comes [Daborne's] _Poore Man's Comfort_ +(268-292), an inferior play printed in 1655. Afterwards follows a dull +play (leaves 293-316), _Loves Changlelings Changed_, founded on Sidney's +_Arcadia_. The last piece in the book (leaves 317-349) is _The +lancheinge of the May_, Written by W.M. Gent in his return from _East +India_, A.D. 1632. There is a second title, _The Seamans honest wife_, +to this extraordinary piece. On the last leaf is a note by Sir Henry +Herbert:--"This Play called ye _Seamans honest wife_, all ye Oaths +left out in ye action as they are crost in ye booke & all other +Reformations strictly observed, may bee acted, not otherwise. This 27th +June, 1633. HENRY HERBERT. + +"I command your Bookeeper to present mee with a faire Copy hereaft[er] +and to leave out all oathes, prophaness & publick Ribaldry as he will +answer it at his perill. H. HERBERT." + +It is plain therefore that the piece was intended for presentation on +the stage; but it must have been a strange audience that could have +listened to it. Dramatic interest there is none whatever. The piece is +nothing more, than a laudation of the East India Company. In tables of +statistics we have set before us the amount of merchandise brought from +the East; and the writer dwells with enthusiasm on the liberality of the +Company, and shows how new channels have been opened for industry. One +extract will be enough:-- + + Nor doe our marchants tradinge into Spayne, + The _Streights_, to _Venice_, _Lisbon_ or the like, + Give entertaynment unto novices + Which have not some experience of the sea. + But when all doors of Charitie are shutt + The _East India_ gates stand open, open wide, + To entertayne the needie & the poore + With good accomodation. Two monthes paye + They have before hand for to make provision, + Needfull provision for so longe a voyage, + And two monthes paye theyr wives are yearely payd + The better to mayntayne theyr poore estate + Duringe the discontinuance of theyr husbands. + Yf in the voyage he doe chance to [MS. doe] dye + The widowe doth receave whatere's found due, + Yf not by will disposed otherwise; + Which often happeneth to be such a sume + As they togeather never sawe the like. + And when did any of these widowes begge + For mayntenaunce in Churches as some doe? + _Blackwall_ proclaymes theyr bountie; _Lymehouse_ speakes + (Yf not ingrate) their liberalitie; + _Ratcliffe_ cannot complayne nor _Wapping_ weepe, + Nor _Shadwell_ crye agaynst theyr niggardnes. + No, they doe rather speake the contrary + With acclamations to the highest heavens. + + + + +APPENDIX II. + + +The following note is by Mr. Robert Boyle, of St. Petersburg, a +Shakespearian scholar, whose name is well known to readers of the +_Anglia_ and the _New Shakspere Society's Transactions_. Mr. Boyle, who +has a close acquaintance with Massinger, on seeing the proof-sheets of +_Sir John Van Olden Barnavelt_, pointed out several repetitions of +expressions used in other plays of Massinger. It will be understood that +I do not adopt Mr. Boyle's conclusions unreservedly. Possibly in an +Appendix to Vol. IV. I may return to a consideration of _Barnavelt_, but +the present volume has already swollen beyond its limits. + + +_Sir John Van Olden Barnavelt_. + +This play, the most valuable Christmas present English scholars have for +half a century received, appears indubitably to belong to the Massinger +and Fletcher series. Even a cursory glance will convince the reader that +it is one of the greatest treasures of our dramatic literature. That +such a gem should lie in manuscript for over 200 years, should be +catalogued in our first library, should be accessible to the eye of the +prying scholar, and yet never even be noticed till now, affords a +disagreeable but convincing proof of the want of interest in our early +literature displayed even by those whose studies in this field would +seem to point them out for the work of rescuing these literary treasures +from a fate as bad as that which befell those plays which perished at +the hands of Warburton's "accursed menial." The present play has some +remarkable features in it. It is taken from contemporary history (the +only one as far as we know of that class in which Massinger was +engaged). It was written almost immediately after the events it +describes. These events took place in the country in which Englishmen +then took more interest than in any other country in Europe. There is a +tone of political passion in the play which, particularly in one place, +breaks out in an expression which the hearers must have applied to their +own country. There is no doubt that the audience wandered away in their +thoughts from Sir John Van Olden Barnavelt, the saviour of his country +from the Spanish yoke, as he professed himself in his defence on his +trial, and Spain's determined enemy, to Sir Walter Raleigh, whose head +had just fallen on the block, the victim of a perfidious foe and of a +mean, shuffling king. The following is the passage:-- + + Octavius, when he did affect the Empire, + And strove to tread upon the neck of Rome + And all her ancient freedoms, took that course + That now is practised on you; for the Catos, + And all free spirits slain or else proscribed, + That durst have stirred against him, he then seized + The Absolute rule of all. _You can apply this_. p. 292. + +In a note Mr. Bullen informs us, that "You can apply this" is crossed +through. He does not state whether there is anything to show that this +was done by Sir George Buck, Master of the Revels, and consequently +Censor for the Stage. But this would appear to be the case, the more so +as the present play seems to have raised scruples in many places in the +mind of the dramatic Cerberus. It is hardly possible to imagine that the +spectators did not apply the "free spirits" to Raleigh, and the "Catos" +to those members who were shortly after to be imprisoned on account of a +memorable protest entered in the journals of the House, which Octavius, +who was trying to seize the absolute rule of all, tore out with his own +royal hands. There is a peculiar fitness in this hit at James as +Octavius which probably did not escape the audience. There is another +passage, on p. 253, which, singular to say, seems to have escaped the +notice of the Censor:-- + + Such mild proceedings in a Government + New settled, whose main power had its dependence + Upon the power of some particular men, + Might be given way to, but in ours it were + Unsafe and scandalous. + +Vandort, the speaker here, is opposing the idea of mercy to Barnavelt. +The language is very mild, but receives a peculiar shade of meaning when +read in connexion with the following passage by Massinger from the +_Virgin Martyr_, I. 1, 236:-- + + In all growing empires + Even cruelty is useful; some must suffer + And be set up examples to strike terror + In others, though far off: but when a state + Is raised to her perfection, and her bases + Too firm to shrink, or yield, we may use mercy + And do't with safety. + +The _Virgin Martyr_ is noticed October 6th, 1620, as newly reformed. It +was probably written not long before. The two passages above mentioned +would seem to bring the two plays into connexion. But, it may be asked, +what proof have we that it was a production of Massinger and Fletcher? +As for the latter, there can be no doubt. His double endings are +sufficient proof. As for the Massinger part, there is first the +probability of his being Fletcher's partner, as the play belongs to a +period when we know they were working together; secondly, the metrical +style could belong to nobody else; thirdly, according to his well-known +manner, he has allusions to and repetitions of expressions in his other +plays. As I have gone through Massinger with a view to these +repetitions, I propose to notice those that occur in the present play. +When I allude to a play going under the name of Beaumont and Fletcher as +partly Massinger's, I am supported either by Mr. Fleay's tables, +published in the _Transactions of the New Shakspere Society_, or to my +own extension of these tables published in the _Eng. Studien_, a German +periodical for English literature and philology. + +Act I. The First Scene is by Massinger, who almost always begins the +joint plays. On page 210 we have-- + + When I should pass with glory to my rest. + +Compare _Virgin Martyr_, V. 2. 319. + + When thou shouldst pass with honour to thy rest. + +On page 211, + + And end that race + You have so long run strongly, like a child, + +is a repetition of the idea in _Virgin Martyr_. On page 212 "Grave +Maurice"; here "Grave" is Count Maurice, who is also so called in +_Love's Cure_, I. 2. Bobadilla's speech. (_Love's Cure_ is by Massinger +and another author, not Fletcher.) + +Page 213. + + The desire of glory + Was the last frailty wise men ere put off. + +This occurs again in _A Very Woman_, V. 4, line 10,-- + + Though the desire of fame be the last weakness + Wise men put off. + +Though the thought occurs in Tacitus and Simplicius, Milton seems to +have adopted it, as he has done many other of his most striking +passages from Massinger. It occurs also in at least one other play of +Massinger's, but the passage has escaped me for the moment. + +Same page:-- + + 'Tis like yourself, + Like Barnavelt, and in that all is spoken. + +An expression which, with a slight change from "spoken" to +"comprehended," occurs in almost every one of Massinger's plays. + +Act I. Scene 2, is also by Massinger. On page 218,-- + + We need not add this wind by our observance + To sails too full already. + +This reminds us of the common Massinger simile,-- + + Too large a sail for your small bark. + +And _Virg. Mar_., I. 1. 85,-- + + You pour oil + On fire that burns already at the height. + +Both similes occur in almost all Massinger's plays. + +The situation on page 219 has a striking resemblance to a similar scene +with Cranmer in _Henry VIII_. Both Maurice and Cranmer are to be +disgraced by being kept waiting outside while their enemies were at +Council. I cannot help here repeating what I have expressed before, that +_Henry VIII_. as we have it is not the work of Shakespeare and Fletcher, +but of Massinger and Fletcher, with only fragments of the Shakespeare +play. + +Act I. Scene 3, is by Fletcher. + +Act II. Scene 1, is by Massinger. + +On page 231 we have,-- + + When the hot lyon's breath + Burns up the fields. + +Compare _Parliament of Love_, I. 5., Montrose,-- + + When the hot lion's breath singeth the fields. + +A little lower down, "At all parts" occurs in almost every play of +Massinger. + +On page 232, "This I foresaw," is also very common in similar +situations. Among numerous cases I refer to the _Unnatural Combat_, Act +III., about the end, and _Maid of Honour_, II. iii., where exactly the +same words are used. + +Page 233, "Be ne'er remembered," occurs in almost all Massinger's plays. +It is the most frequent of his many repetitions. + +A little lower down. "And something there I'll do," is a well-known +Massingerism, occurring everywhere in his plays. + +II. 2, is by Fletcher; 3, and 4, 5, 6, 7 are also probably his. + +III. 1, is Fletcher's. On page 250 Barnavelt's hope that the soldiers +will regret him because he fed and nursed them, stands in flagrant +opposition to what Massinger says of Barnavelt's cashiering the Captain, +on page 215. + +III. 2, is by Massinger. + +Page 252, "But that is not the hazard that I would shun," is one of the +commonest Massingerisms. The passage on page 253 has been mentioned +already. Massinger is almost the only later dramatist who has a large +number of dissyllable "tions." We have here (253),-- + + Of what condi_ti-on_ soever, we + Palliate seditions. + +His share of the present play presents many such cases. + +III. 3, seems also by Massinger. + +III. 4, is by Fletcher. On page 263 there is an unmistakable +reminiscence of _Henry VIII_., Wolsey's "Farewell." + +III. 5 (also marked 4), is by Massinger. On page 264 occurs, "At no +part," one of the commonest Massingerisms; and a little lower down,-- + + Ever maintained + The freedom I was born to. + +Compare _Great Duke of Florence_, I. 1-4,-- + + For I must use the freedom I was born with. + +It also occurs in other Massinger plays. + +III. 6, is by Fletcher. + +IV. 1, is by Fletcher. + +IV. 2, is by Fletcher. + +IV. 3, is by Fletcher. Here occurs another allusion to _Henry VIII_.,-- + + And glide away + Like a spent exhalation. + +Compare _Henry VIII_., III. 2, 226:-- + + shall fall + Like a bright exhalation in the evening. + +Fletcher does not repeat himself often, and these two exceptions are +important. + +IV. 4, is apparently by Massinger, but contains no repetitions. + +IV. 5, is by Massinger. There are no clear Massingerisms, but the +metrical style, and the allusion to Raleigh already mentioned, make it +plain that the Scene is his. + +V. 1, is also Massinger's. The end of this Scene I have not seen, as +pages 296-305 were missing in the proof-sheets I examined. Nearly all +Scene 2 is also missing. It and the rest of the play seem to be +Fletcher's, who, as usual, spoiled Massinger's fine conception of +Barnavelt, and makes him whine like Buckingham in _Henry VIII_. This +moral collapse of all energy in the face of death in the two characters +is significant. Massinger would have carried out the scene in quite +another tone. Some of the Fletcher scenes in this play, in which he has +an unusually large share, are surprisingly good, and remind us of +Fletcher at his best, in _Philaster_ and the earlier plays. He fails +here, as he always does, in the delineation of character. Nowhere is +this break-down more characteristic than in Buckingham and Barnavelt. It +gives the end of our play quite a wrench, and deprives Barnavelt of the +sympathies which we had been forced to turn on him through his intrepid +behaviour in the great trial scene. We had almost gained the conviction +that his aims were really pure, and here we are called on to witness his +utter collapse, in which he almost whines for pardon for his sins, and, +like all worthless fellows without character seems actually to soften in +gratitude to the man who sent him to his death. + +This conclusion, I say, weakens the dramatic power of the close, but it +does not prevent Sir John Barnavelt from occupying a high place among +our dramatic treasures. R. BOYLE. + +ST. PETERSBURG, +New Year's Eve, 1882. + + +FINIS. + + + + +FOOTNOTES: + + +[1] Vid. Appendix. + +[2] Reprinted in Mrs. Bray's _Tamar and the Tavy_. + +[3] Printed in _The Court and Times uf Charles the First_, &c. Edited, +with an introduction and notes, by the author of _Memoirs of Sophia +Dorothea, Consort of George I_., &c. (Vol. i. p. 104. London, 1848.) +8vo. + +[4] Mr. Fleay thinks that _Dick of Devonshire_ was written by +R. Davenport. "The conduct of the plot," he observes, "the +characterisation, the metre, the language are very like the _City +Nightcap_." The reader must judge between us. I find it difficult to +believe that Davenport could have preserved throughout five acts such +clear directness of style. + +[5] The old form of "pop-gun." + +[6] Xeres. + +[7] Cadiz. + +[8] Span. picaro, a rogue or thief. Nares quotes several instances of +"picaro" and "picaroon" from our early writers. + +[9] It would be an improvement to read "enkindled," or "kindled at the +first." + +[10] Cf. Heywood's _Faire Maid of the West_: part one (Works, II. 306), +"And joyne with you a ginge of lusty ladds." The meaning is "band, +company." The word is not uncommon among Elizabethan writers, and is +also found much earlier. + +[11] Span. caraca, a ship of large size. Nares quotes from Beaumont and +Fletcher. + +[12] Halliwell quotes Minsheu: "The Spanish _borachoe_, or bottle +commonly of a pigges skinne, with the haire inward, dressed inwardly +with rozen and pitch to keepe wine or liquor sweet." Hence the word came +to be applied to a drunkard. + +[13] A stately Spanish dance. Nares' article sub. 'Pavan' is full and +interesting. + +[14] The repetition of the words "such a" is probably a clerical error: +the Alexandrine is clumsy. + +[15] Skirmishers or sharpshooters. + +[16] Nares quotes from Taylor's _Workes_, 1630:--"So horseman-ship +hath the trot, the amble, the _racke_, the pace, the false and wild +gallop, or the full speed," &c. + +[17] Street bullies, such as are introduced in Nabbes' _Bride_, +Middleton and W. Rowley's _Fair Quarrel_, &c. The exploits of a "Roaring +Girl" are admirably set forth by Dekker and Middleton. + +[18] The full form "God refuse me" occurs in Webster's _White Devil_ +(ed. 1871, p. 7), where Dyce quotes from Taylor, the water poet: "Would +so many else in their desperate madnes desire God to Damne them, to +Renounce them, to Forsake them, to Confound them, to Sinke them, to +_Refuse_ them?" "_Against Cursing and Swearing_," _Works_, 1630. + +[19] "The Saturday Night, some sixteen sail of the Hollanders, and about +ten White Hall Men (who in England are called Colliers) were commanded +to fight against the Castle of Punthal, standing three miles from Cadiz: +who did so accordingly; and discharged in that service, at the least, +1,600 shot." _Three to One_, &c. (Arber's _English Garner_, I. 626). + +[20] Sc. companions: _Mids. Night's Dream_, III., i.; Shirley's +_Wedding_, k. v., &c. + +[21] Middleton says somewhere (in A Fair Quarrel, I think):-- + + "The Infinity of Love + Holds no proportion with Arithmetick." + +[22] To "look babies in the eyes" was a common expression for peering +amorously into the eyes. + +[23] Sc. fagot. + +[24] "Barleybreake" (the innocent sport so gracefully described in the +first book of the _Arcadia_) is often used in a wanton sense. + +[25] A common form of expression. Everybody remembers Puck's-- + + "I'll put a girdle round about the earth + In forty minutes." + +Cf. Chapman's _Bussy D'Ambois_, I. 1.-- + + "In tall ships, richly built and ribd with brasse, + To put a Girdle round about the world." + +[26] Furnished with "bosses," which seem to have been the name for some +tinkling metal ornaments. Nares quotes from Sp. _Moth. Hub_. I. 582:-- + + "The mule all deck'd in goodly rich array, + With bells and bosses that full loudly rung." + +[27] Cf. _Spanish Tragedy_, sc. vi.:-- + + "A man hanging and _tottering_ and _tottering_, + As you know the wind will wave a man." + +(Quoted by Mr. Fleay in illustration of the "tottering colours" in _King +John_, v. 5, 7.) + +[28] One is reminded of Shakespeare's-- + + "Had I _as many sons as I have hairs_, + I would not wish them to a fairer death."--_Macbeth_, v. 8. + +[29] "That e'er o'erclouded," I should prefer. + +[30] MS. _Exit_. + +[31] Eringoes are often mentioned as a provocative by early writers: +_Merry Wives_, v. 5, &c. + +[32] Sc. mallet. + +[33] Sc. I lying in my _trundle-bed_. + +[34] To "make ready" is to dress; so to "make unready" is to undress. +The expression was very common. + +[35] A large salt-cellar was placed in the middle of the table: guests +of importance sat "above the salt," inferior guests below. Abundant +illustrations are given in Nares' Glossary. + +[36] In Brand's _Popular Antiquities_ (Bohn's _Antiq. Libr_., II. 70-77) +there is an interesting article on "Groaning Cake and Cheese." + +[37] A large coach: the derivation of the word is uncertain. + +[38] The next word is illegible in the MS. We should have expected +"_Exeunt Fer., Man., & attendants_." + +[39] Vid. vol. i. 307. + +[40] The schoolmen's term for the confines of hell. + +[41] I have followed the punctuation of the MS., though I am tempted to +read, "What to doe? pray with me?" + +[42] A stage-direction for the next scene. + +[43] Sc. bravadoes. + +[44] The biting of the thumb is here a mark of vexation: to bite one's +thumb _at_ a person was considered an insult (_Rom. and Jul_., i. 1). + +[45] A diminutive of "cock" (_Tempest_, ii. 1, &c.). + +[46] The conceit is very common. Compare (one of many instances) +Dekker's _Match me in London_, iv. 1-- + + "You oft call Parliaments, and there enact + Lawes good and wholesome, such as who so breake + Are hung by the purse or necke, but as the weake + And smaller flyes i'th Spiders web are tane + When great ones teare the web, and free remain." + +[47] The reading of the MS. is "snapsance," which is clearly wrong. +"Snaphance was the name for the spring-lock of a musket, and then for +the musket itself. It is said that the term was derived from the Dutch +_snap-haans_ (poultry stealers), a set of marauders who made use of it" +(_Lilly's Dramatic Works_, ed. Fairholt, II., 272). "Tarrier" must mean +"a person that causes delay": cf. a passage from Sir Thomas Overbury's +character of "a meene Petty fogger":--"He cannot erre before judgment, +and then you see it, only _writs of error_ are the _tariers_ that keepe +his client undoing somewhat the longer" (quoted in Todd's _Johnson_, sub +_tarrier_). + +[48] "One being condemned to be shot to death for a rape: the maid [sic] +in favour of his life was content to beg him for her husband. Which +being condiscended unto by the Judge, _according to the lawe of Spaine +in that behalfe_: in steps me the hangman all in a chafe and said unto +the Judge. Howe (I pray you, sir) can that be, seeing the stake is +already in the ground, the rope, the arrowes, the Archers all in a +readines, and heere I am come for him." (Anthony Copley's _Wits, Fits, +and Fancies_, 1614, p. 120.) Here is another merry tale, with rather +more point in it, from the same collection:--"A fellow being to suffer, +a maide came to the gallowes to beg him for her husband, according as +the custome of _Spaine_ dispenceth in that case. The people seeing this +said unto the fellow: Now praise God that he hath thus mercifullie +preserv'd thee, and see thou ever make much of this kinde woman that so +friendly saves thy life. With that the Fellow viewing her and seeing a +great skarre in her face, which did greatlie disfigure her, a long nose, +thin lips and of a sowre complexion, hee said unto the Hangman: On (my +good friend) doe thy duty: Ile none of her." (p. 160.) + +[49] Cf. _Rom. and Jul_., I., iii., 76, "Why, he's a man of wax," where +Dr. Ingleby (who has no doubt learnt better by this time) once took the +meaning to be, "a man of puberty, a proper man." Steevens happily +compared Horace's "_cerea_ Telephi brachia." + +[50] The old spelling for "bawbles." + +[51] "Slug. A ship which sails badly." Halliwell. I cannot recall +another instance of the use of the word in this sense. + +[52] The "trundle-bed" (or "truckle-bed") was a low bed moving on +castors. In the day-time it was placed under the principal or "high" +bed: at night it was drawn out to the foot of the larger bed. Vid. +Nares, sub "truckle bed" and "trundle bed." + +[53] The reading of the MS. is unintelligible. For _All_. I would read +_Alq_., and for "Law you?"--by a very slight change--"Love you?" (the +question being addressed to Henrico). Then what follows is intelligible. + +[54] "Flay" is usually, if not always, written "flea" in old authors. + +[55] MS. "For 3 hellish sins:" the word "For" is no doubt repeated from +_Fer_. + +[56] The passage might be tortured into verse, somewhat as follows:-- + + "Nay but + Shall I not be acquainted with your designe? + When we must marry, + Faith, to save charges of two wedding dinners, + Lets cast so that one day may yield us bridegroome,-- + I to the daughter, thou to the mother." + +[57] We ought, no doubt, to read "professed,"--a trisyllable. + +[58] An allusion is intended to the tailor's "hell,"--the hole under the +counter. + +[59] _Vide_ note on Vol. I., p. 175. + +[60] MS. tracning. + +[61] In the MS. the stage direction has been altered to "Enter Sir +Gefferie & Bunche." The whole of the colloquy between Sucket and Crackby +is marked as if to be omitted. Doubtless this was one of the +"reformacons" made at the instance of the Master of the Revels. + +[62] Such would seem to be the reading of the MS., but it is not +quite plain. I suspect that the true reading is "tripe-wives" (cf. +oysterwives, &c.). + +[63] I.e., Besar las manos (hand-kissing). + +[64] MS. "will." + +[65] Perhaps we should rather read:-- + + "Fie, Sister; + 'Tis a pretty gent[leman], I know you love him." + +[66] The words "I faith" have been crossed out in the MS.--as being +irreverent. + +[67] MS. "whom." + +[68] Cf. _The Ladies Privilege_, i. 1. (Glapthorne's Works, ii. 99)-- + + "For my services + Pay me with pricelesse treasure of a kisse, + While from the balmy fountaynes of thy lips + Distils a moisture precious as the Dew + The amorous bounty of the morne + Casts on the Roses cheeke." + +[69] In the MS. the word "witnes" has been crossed out and "vouchers" +substituted. + +[70] The introductory part of this scene, up to the entrance of the +steward, had been omitted by the copyist and is added on the last leaf +of the play. + +[71] In the margin we find the words "Well said, Mr. Steward: a good +observation." + +[72] "Pride" has been crossed out in the MS. + +[73] "What? does he plucke it out of his Codpeece? Yes, here lyes all +his affeccon."--Marginal note in MS. + +[74] "A verrie politique drunkard"--"I think the barrell of Hedlebergs +in his bellye."--Marginal notes in MS. + +[75] "Tis well his friends here to reconcile ... ... for assault and +battery elce."--the other words in the marginal note are illegible. + +[76] "It were but cast away on such a beast as thou art." Marginal note. + +[77] To "take in" is a common phrase for "to take by storm." + +[78] Pappenheim fell at the battle of _Luetzen_, November 16, 1632; but +there had been fighting at _Maestricht_ in the earlier part of the year. + +[79] MS. pdue. + +[80] The first reading was--"Hold, hold, good Captaine, tis our most +temperate Steward." + +[81] 'Heere, here' is a correction (in the MS.) for 'what then?' + +[82] MS. Trime. + +[83] These words are crossed out in the MS. + +[84] Therefore this play would seem to have been acted at the +Whitefriars, i.e. at the Salisbury Court theatre. (F.G. Fleay.) + +[85] The "jig" seems to have been a comic after-piece consisting of +music and dancing. In Mr. Collier's _Hist. of Dram. Lit_., iii. 180-85 +(new ed.), the reader will find much curious information on the point. +The following passage from Shirley's _Love in a Maze_ (1632) is not +noticed by Mr. Collier:-- + + "Many gentlemen + Are not, as in the days of understanding, + Now satisfied without a jig, which since + They cannot, with their honour, call for after + The Play, they look to be serv'd up in the middle: + Your dance is the best language of some comedies + And footing runs away with all; a scene + Express'd with life of art and squared to nature + Is dull and phlegmatic poetry." + +--Works (ed. Gifford and Dyce), ii. 339. + +[86] MS. him. + +[87] The name of the musician, I suppose; but the reading of the MS. is +somewhat illegible. + +[88] The passage at first ran as follows: "Umh, how long have I slept, +or am I buried and walke in Elizium as the poets faine? Goe to, where +are they? in the ayre? I can percieve nothing nor remember anything has +been don or said!" + +[89] '_Grimes_. Soe, now retire a little. Ile play him one fitt of +mirthe on my trebble to rouse him. _Ext_.' These words occur in the +left-hand margin. Probably they should stand here in the text 'Ext.' may +mean either '_exeunt_' (musicians) or '_exit_' (_Grimes_ to disguise +himself). + +[90] 'Who are these! ha! the towne waits? why, how now, my masters, whats +the matter, ha?'--Passage cancelled in MS. + +[91] 'Bakside' is a correction (in the MS.) for 'buttock.' + +[92] "Here Gent[lemen], share this amongst yee and pray for Grimes." +These words (addressed to the musicians) follow in the MS. but have been +scored through. + +[93] The MS. gives "aurescion." + +[94] The reading of the MS. seems to be "inuolute." Mr. Fleay suggests +"invocate." + +[95] The repetition of 'loath' in the next line is suspicious. + +[96] The arrangement of the verse is not easy: perhaps we should read-- + + 'Wishes for husband. + A proper Gent[leman]; Ime happy + She has made so iuditious an election.' + +Our author usually makes a trisyllable of "gentleman"; here it counts +only as a monosyllable. + +[97] Between this word and the next there is a mark of omission in the +MS., and the words "t'were Sir" have been written above. + +[98] What follows, to the entrance of _Thurston_, is marked to be +omitted. I have thought fit to restore it to the text. "Here's Mr. +_Thurston,"_ concludes Clariana's speech. + +[99] Cf. a similar passage in Glapthorne's _Wit in a Constable_ +(Works, I. 182):-- + + "a limber fellow, + Fit onely for deare _Nan_, his schoole-fellow, + A Grocer's daughter borne in _Bread-street_, with + Whom he has used to goe to _Pimblico_ + And spend ten groats in cakes and Christian ale." + +From Shirley we learn that the apprentices took their pleasure +in the mild form of treating their sweethearts to cream and +prunes:-- + + "You have some festivals, I confess, but when + They happen, you run wild to the next village, + Conspire a knot and club your groats apiece + For cream and prunes, not daring to be drunk." + (_Honoria and Mammon_, v. i.). + +Pimlico seems to have been a place near Hoxton famous for its ales and +custards; cf. Mayne's _City Match_, II. 6.-- + + "Nay, captain, we have brought you + A gentleman of valour, who has been + In Moorfields often: marry it has been + To squire his sisters and demolish custards + At Pimlico." + +There is an unique tract entitled "Pimlyco or Runne Red cap, 'tis a mad +world at Hoggesden," 1609. + +[100] I cannot find that "bob" is used as a technical term in falconry. +Mr. Fleay suggests that a "bob'd hawke" merely means a "hawk cheated +of her prey." I rather think the meaning is a "hawk beaten or repulsed +by her prey." + +[101] From "A Kalendar of the English Church," p. 45 (Rivingtons: n.d., +but 1865), one learns that "Marriage is restrained by Law at the +following times unless with a License or Dispensation from the Bishop +of the Diocese, his Chancellor, or Commissary, viz., from Advent Sunday +until eight days after the Epiphany; from Septuagesima until eight days +after Easter; and from the Monday in Rogation week until Trinity +Sunday." + +[102] I venture to insert the word "poet": both sense and metre are +defective without it. + +[103] In the MS. "thee" is corrected into "you." + +[104] Some words have been cut away. + +[105] MS. throng. + +[106] "_Thu_. And here she comes, I feare me"--crossed out in the MS. + +[107] Here a line follows in the MS:-- + + "And verely she is much to blame in it." + +It is crossed through, and rightly. + +[108] "Puny" is not uncommonly spelt "puisne" (Fr. puisne) in old +authors. + +[109] The metre requires "unman[ner]ly." + +[110] MS. have. + +[111] MS. puisants. + +[112] The "Artillery Garden" was situated in Finsbury Fields, where also +was the place of exercise for the City Trained Bands. In the +"Antiquarian Repertory" (ed. 1807), i. 251-270, the reader will find an +interesting account of the Trained Bands and the Artillery Company. Old +writers are fond of sneering at the City warriors. The following passage +is from Shirley's "Witty Fair One," v. 1:--"There's a spruce captain +newly crept out of a gentleman-usher and shuffled into a buff jerkin +with gold lace, that never saw service beyond Finsbury or the +Artillery-Garden, marches wearing a desperate feather in his lady's +beaver, while a poor soldier, bred up in the school of war all his life, +yet never commenced any degree of commander, wants a piece of brass to +discharge a wheaten bullet to his belly." + +[113] _"Vinum muscatum quod moschi odorem referat, propter dulcedinem_, +for the sweetnesse and smell it resembles muske," &c_. Minsheu's _Guide +into Tongues_ (apud Dyce's _Glossary_). + +[114] "Mooncalf" (originally the name for an imperfectly formed foetus) +was used as a term of reproach, like dodypol, nincompoop, ninny, +dunderhead, &c. + +[115] _Sc_. trifling fellow, noodle. + +[116] The blades from Bilboa in Spain were esteem'd as highly as those +of Toledo manufacture. + +[117] MS. two. + +[118] "Striker" is a cant term for a losel, a wencher. + +[119] "Mew" is a falconer's term for the place where a hawk is confined. + +[120] This passage is repeated in _The Ladies Privilege_, at the end of +Act I. + +[121] "Curst" is an epithet applied to shrewish women and vicious +beasts. + +[122] This is the prettiest passage, I think, to be found in Glapthorne. + +[123] MS. me. + +[124] "Oh me" is crossed out, and "once" written above. + +[125] The passage is bracketed in the MS., and was probably meant to be +omitted. + +[126] MS. Its. + +[127] Throughout the scene "judge" is substituted in the MS. for +"recorder." + +[128] MS. know. + +[129] This passage is bracketed in the MS. It could hardly have been +expected to escape official censure. + +[130] MS. led. + +[131] Bracketed in MS. + +[132] Early Greek writers held up the Scythians as models of justice and +simplicity (Iliad, xiii. 6, &c.). Clearchus (apud Athen., xii. 27) +accuses them of cruelty, voluptuous living, and viciousness of every +kind; but, in justice to the Scythians, it should be added that in his +"animadversiones" to the "Deipnosophists" (when will somebody complete +and print Dyce's translation?) the learned Schweighaeuser in no measured +language accuses Clearchus of wanton recklessness and gross inaccuracy. + +[133] "What is the matter there? looke to the prisoners," was the first +reading. + +[134] The passage is bracketed in the MS. + +[135] Erased in MS. + +[136] Before correction the passage stood "And now, madam, being your +servant and _Timothy_ I bring you newes!" The words "Stay, stay Mr. +Justice," &c., were inserted afterwards. + +[137] Bracketed in MS. + +[138] The reading of the MS. appears to be "a lonly." + +[139] Bracketed in MS. + +[140] The MS. is a folio of thirty-one leaves, written in a small clear +hand: it was purchased for the National Library in 1851 from the Earl of +Denbigh. + +[141] In May, 1622, "by reason of sickness and indisposition of body +wherewith it had pleased God to visit him, he had become incapable of +fulfilling the duties and was compelled to resign."--Vid. Collier's +"Hist. Eng. Dram. Lit." I. 402 (new ed.). + +[142] Mr. Warner, of the Manuscript Department of the British Museum, to +whom we owe the excellent Catalogue of the Dulwich Collection, kindly +drew my attention to the autograph letter. + +[143] In the right-hand margin we find "Jo: R: migh."--the names of the +actors who took the Captains' parts. Further on the name "Jo: Rice" +occurs in full. John Rice stands last on the list of Chief Actors in the +first fol. Shakespeare. The reader will find an account of him in +Collier's "Hist. of Eng. Dram. Lit.," iii. 486-88. It is curious that he +should have taken so unimportant a part; but perhaps he sustained one of +the chief characters besides.--"Migh" = Michael. + +[144] It seems to have been no uncommon thing for officers to keep the +names of soldiers on the list after their death and pocket their pay: +cf. Webster's "Appius and Virginia," v. i., &c. + +[145] The reply of 1 _Cap_., extending to thirteen lines, has been +scored through in the MS., at the instance, I suppose, of the censorious +Master of the Revels; it is, unfortunately, quite illegible. + +[146] The MS. reads "_Enter Barnavelt, Modes-bargen, Leidenberck_, +Vandermetten, _Grotius_, Taurinus, Utenbogart, _Hogebeets_." Names not +in italics are scored through. + +[147] MS. Tau. _Hog_. + +[148] All the characters remain on the stage in spite of this direction. + +[149] At first the line ran, "Of this proud _Prince of Orange_, at the +worst." + +[150] MS. _Enter Pr. of Orange, Gr: Henrie, Gra: William, Collonells & +Captaines. Gr: Henrie_ and _Collonells_ are scored through. In the +right-hand margin is written the name of an actor, _Mr. Rob:_ + +[151] The words "I feele too" probably belong to another speaker. + +[152] Fletcher is fond of using "ye" for "you." + +[153] In the MS. there is a marginal note:--"I like not this: neither do +I think that the pr. was thus disgracefully used, besides he is to much +presented. G.B." The initials are those of Sir George Buc, Master of the +Revels. + +[154] "Shellain" is a corrupted form of Dutch _schelm_--a rogue, +villain. + +[155] The stage direction in the MS. runs thus:--"_Enter 1 Burger, +Vandermitten, Grotius." Vandermitten_ finally takes the place of +1 _Burger_ and _Grotius_. + +[156] Beneath, in the MS., is written the name of the actor who took the +part, "Mr. Gough." + +[157] In the right-hand margin are written the initials "R.T." It is +unknown what actor was the owner of them. + +[158] "Jo: Ri:" is written above, and "migh" in the right-hand margin. + +[159] "Mr. Rob." took the Captain's part. + +[160] This Captain is identical with the one in the previous scene: +"Jo: Rice:" took the part. + +[161] In the MS. _Vandermitten_ is scored through, and _Grotius_ written +above; but the alteration is not followed afterwards. + +[162] "R.T." was responsible for the part. + +[163] In the right-hand margin are the initials "T.P.," i.e. Thomas +Pollard. + +[164] In the right hand margin is a stage-direction, scored through,-- +"Droms--Enter ye Arminians: pass over." + +[165] MS. _Enter Bredero, Vandort_ and 2 Lords. The words in Roman +letters are scored through in the MS. + +[166] The brackets are mine: whoever excluded the 2 _Lords_ left these +words standing by an oversight. + +[167] These weak endings without a pause are characteristic of +Massinger. + +[168] Massinger is fond of the use of parentheses. + +[169] In the MS. _Leiden_ has been corrected into _Roterdam_. + +[170] The officer was personated by "R.T." + +[171] In the right-hand margin we find "Mr. Rice." + +[172] The Captains' parts were taken by "Mr. Rob." and "Mighel." + +[173] The Dutch word _knol_ signifies both a turnip and a blockhead. + +[174] i.e. explain to me. (A very common expression.) + +[175] "Fry" has here the unusual sense of "buzz, hiss." + +[176] In the right-hand margin we find "Cap. Jo: R." + +[177] Underneath is written Migh. who took the part of 1 _Huntsman_. + +[178] "And bycause some Hares by haunting the lowe watrie places do +become foule and mesled, such Hares doe never follow the hard ways nor +make such pathes to their formes, but use all their subtleties and +pollecies by the sides of the Ryvers, brookes and other waters." +Turberville's _Booke of Hunting_ (1575), p. 160. + +[179] "R.T." took the part. + +[180] MS. they. + +[181] "Tho: Po:" (i.e. Thomas Pollard) is written in the right-hand +margin. + +[182] MS. Potents. + +[183] The part was taken by "G. Lowen." + +[184] The Wife's part was taken by "Nich", who may possibly be (as Mr. +Fleay suggests) Nicholas Tooley; but I suspect that a younger actor than +Tooley would have been chosen for the part. + +[185] "Jo: Rice" took the part. + +[186] A corruption of Dutch _kermis_ (the annual fair). + +[187] An ironical expression (very common) of denial or astonishment. + +[188] _Sc_. merrily (Dutch _lustig_), "Lustick, as the Dutchman says." +--_All's Well_, II. 3. + +[189] A corruption of Dutch _brui_. The meaning is "A plague on his +Excellencie!" + +[190] In the MS. follow two and a half lines, spoken by _Vandort_, and a +speech of _Barnavelt's_, twenty-four lines long. These were cancelled on +revision. I have succeeded in reading some of the lines; and perhaps +after a keener scrutiny the whole passage might become legible. But I +have no doubt that the lines were cancelled by the author himself +(Massinger?) in order to shorten the scene. + +[191] Nearly forty lines of dialogue that follow are cancelled in the +MS., in order to shorten the scene. + +[192] Not marked in MS. + +[193] This passage is marked in pencil, as for omission, in the MS. + +[194] The words "Upon my soule" are crossed through in the MS. + +[195] This line and the eleven lines following are marked for omission +in the MS. + +[196] The words "tooke that course That now is practisd on you" are +crossed through in the MS., and "cutt of his opposites" substituted in +the right-hand margin. + +[197] In the MS. the words "you can apply this" are crossed through. + +[198] The words "to a Monarchie" are corrected in the MS. "to another +forme." + +[199] Not marked in MS. + +[200] Not marked in MS. + +[201] T[homas] Holc[ombe] took the part. + +[202] "Mr. Rob." took the part. + +[203] In the right-hand margin we find the actor's name, "Mr. Bir.," +i.e. Bir[ch]. + +[204] "The quantity of ten of any commodity; as a _dicker_ of hides was +ten hides, a _dicker_ of iron ten bars. See 'Fragment. Antiq.,' p. 192. +Probably from _decas_, Lat."--Nares. + +[205] Sc. pumpkin (Fr.). + +[206] "Dewse-ace. _Deux et az_." Cotgrave. (Cf. _Love's Labour's Lost_, +I. 2.) The lowest cast of the dice, two aces, was called "ames ace." + +[207] Among the Romans the highest cast was called _Venus_ and the +lowest _canis_. (Cf. a well-known couplet of Propertius, lib. iv. el. +viii. l. 45-- + + "Me quoque per talos Venerem quaerente secundos + Semper damnosi subsiluere canes.") + +[208] Sc. quatre et trois. + +[209] Embroidered, figured. + +[210] The actors' names, "Mr. Rob." and "Mr. Rice," are written in the +right-hand margin. + +[211] A term of contempt, like "poor John." + +[212] To set up one's rest, meant, as has been abundantly shown by +Shakespearean commentators, to stand upon one's cards at _primero_; but +the word "pull" in this connexion is not at all easy to explain. The +general sense of the present passage is plain: "Is my life held in such +paltry esteem that slaves are allowed to gamble for it as for a stake at +cards?" We have nowhere a plain account of _primero_. When the "Compleat +Gamester" was published (in 1674) the game had been discontinued. The +variety of quotations given by Nares, under _Primero_ and _Rest_, is +simply distracting. There are two passages (apud Nares) of Fletcher's +bearing on the present difficulty:-- + + "My _rest is up_, wench, and I _pull_ for that + Will make me ever famous." _Woman's Prize_, I. 2. + + "Faith, sir, my _rest is up_, + And what I now _pull_ shall no more afflict me + Than if I play'd at span-counter." _Monsieur Thomas_, IV. 9. + +Dyce accepts Nares' suggestion that _pull_ means to _draw a card_; but +if a player is standing on his cards, why should he want to draw a card? +There is an old expression, to "pull down a side," i.e. to ruin one's +partner (by bad play); and I am inclined to think that to "pull at a +rest" in _primero_ meant to try to pull down (beat, go beyond) the +player who was standing on his cards. The first player might say, "My +rest is up"; the other players might either discard or say, "See it"; +then the first player would either "revie" it (cover with a larger sum) +or throw up his cards. At length--for some limitation would have been +agreed upon--the challenger would play his cards, and the opponents +would "pull at his rest"--try to break down his hand. I am not at all +sure that this is the proper explanation; but _pull_ in the text cannot +possibly mean _draw a card_. + +[213] The body of Leydenberg was not exposed until two days after +Barneveld's execution. + +[214] Charles I. was particularly anxious that these trained bands +should be made as efficient as possible, In the "Analytical Index to the +Series of Records known as the Remembrancia" (printed for the +Corporation of the City of London, 1878) there are several letters from +the Lords of the Council to the Lord Mayor on this subject (pp. 533-9). +The Directions sent round to the Lord Lieutenants (An. 1638) concerning +the Trained Bands of the several counties are given in Rushworth's +_Historical Collections_, Part 2, vol. i. p. 790. + +[215] An allusion, of course, to Bardolph's famous definition of +"accommodated" (2 _Henry IV_., iii. 2). + +[216] _Fox_ was a cant term for a sword of English make. At Hounslow +Heath there was a sword-blade manufactory:--"Nov 30 (1639). Benjamin +Stone, blade maker, Hounslow Heath, to the Officers of the Ordnance. +Will always be ready to deliver 1,000 swords of all fashions every month +throughout the year, and will put in such security as the office shall +desire. Has now ready at the Tower and in his own house 2,000 swords to +deliver when the officers shall please."--Calendar of State Papers, +Domestic Series, 1639-40, p. 134. + +[217] _Ticktacks_ was a game somewhat similar to backgammon. It is +described in the _Compleat Gamester_, 1674. + +[218] The Pacification of Berwick took place in June, 1639. + +[219] Tobacco-pipefuls; but no doubt a pun was intended. For _Bermudas_ +tobacco Nares quotes from _Clitus's Whimz_., p. 135, "Where being +furnished with tinder, match, and a portion of decayed _Bermoodus_ they +smoke it most terribly." + +[220] Our forefathers esteemed the March brewing; we the October. + +[221] To "build a sconce" means, I suppose, to fix a candle in a +candle-stick. + +[222] This speech of Sir Richard's is very much in Shirley's style: +cf. _Lady of Pleasure_ (I. 1). + +[223] Galley-foist was the name given to long many-oared barges, +particularly the Lord Mayor's barge of state. Foist is also a term for a +sharper; and gallifoist was intended to be pronounced here gullifoist. + +[224] An account of the way to play _Gleek_ is given in the _Compleat +Gamester_, 1674. + +[225] Ambergrease was not uncommonly used for culinary purposes. + +[226] Father-in-law is often used by old writers for step-father. +Perhaps "by a" is a correction for "to a." + +[227] Title, mark of distinction (Hamlet, I. 4, &c.). + +[228] A head-covering worn by women. "A night-rail (for a woman) pignon, +pinon," Sherwood's Engl.-French Dict. 1650. + +[229] To be "in the suds" was an expression for to be "in the dumps." + +[230] Vid. Notes of the Commentators on _Henry V_., iii. 7 ("strait +trossers"). + +[231] Regals were a kind of small portable organ: vide Nares. + +[232] Cf. a passage in Shirley's _Witty Fair One_ (IV. 2): "What makes +so many scholars then come from Oxford or Cambridge like market-women +with dorsers full of lamentable tragedies and ridiculous comedies which +they might here vent to the players, but they will take no money for +them?" + +[233] The Theorbo was a kind of lute. + +[234] On June 20, 1632, a royal proclamation was made "commanding the +Gentry to keep their Residence in at their Mansions in the Country, and +forbidding them to make their habitations in London and places +adjoining." The text of the proclamation is in Rushworth's Historical +Collections (1680), Pt. II. vol. i. p. 144. In a very interesting little +volume of unpublished poems, temp. Charles I. (MS. 15,228, British +Museum), there is an "Oade by occasion of his Maiesties Proclamatyon for +Gentlemen to goe into the Country." It is too long to quote here in +full, but I will give a few stanzas:-- + + Nor lett the Gentry grudge to goe + Into the places where they grew, + Butt thinke them blest they may doe so: + Who would pursue + + The smoaky gloryes of the Towne, + That might goe till his Native Earth + And by the shineing fyre sitt downe + Of his own hearth; + + Free from the gripeing Scriv'ners bands + And the more biteing Mercers bookes, + Free from the bayte of oyled hands + And painted lookes? + + The Country, too, eene chops for rayne: + You that exhale it by your pow'r, + Let the fatt drops fall downe again + In a full show'r. + + And you, bright beautyes of the time, + That spend your selves here in a blaze, + Fixe to your Orbe and proper Clime + Your wandring Rayes. + + Lett no dark corner of the Land + Bee unimbellisht with one Gemme, + And those which here too thick doe stand + Sprinkle on them. + + And, trust mee, Ladyes, you will find + In that sweet life more sollid joyes, + More true contentment to the minde, + Then all Towne-Toyes. + + Nor Cupid there less blood doth spill, + Butt heads his shafts with chaster love, + Not feath'red with a Sparrow's quill + Butt of a Dove. + + There may you heare the Nightingale, + The harmeless Syren of the wood, + How prettily shee tells a tale + Of rape and blood. + + Plant trees you may and see them shoot + Up with your Children, to bee serv'd + To your cleane Board, and the fayr'st fruite + To bee preserved; + + And learne to use their sev'rall gumms. + Tis innocente in the sweet blood + Of Cherrys, Apricocks and Plumms + To bee imbru'd. + +[235] The Galliard, a lively French dance described in Sir John Davies' +_Orchestra_ (st. 67). + +[236] Sc. good-bye. Cf. Shirley's _Constant Maid_, i. 1, "Buoy, _Close_, +buoy, honest _Close_: we are blanks, blanks." + +[237] Can the reference be to _Troilus and Cressida_? + +[238] Ben Jonson's _Alchemist_. + +[239] Puisne (i.e. puny) was the term applied to students at the Inns of +Court; also to Freshmen at Oxford. + +[240] Cf. Shirley's _Honoria and Mammon_, i. 2: + + "Go to your Lindabrides + I'the new brothel; she's a handsome _leveret_." + +[241] The first edition of this well-known book was published in 1628. +_Parsons Resolutions_ is a fictitious book. + +[242] The "lamentable ballad of the Lady's Fall" has been reprinted by +Ritson and Percy. + +[243] In the MS. follows a line, scored through:-- + + "And while my footman plaies sigh out my part." + +[244] Shirley delights in ridiculing the affectation in which the +gallants of his time indulged. Cf. a very similar passage in _The Lady +of Pleasure_, v. 1. + +[245] The cant language of thieves. In Harman's _Caveat for Cursitors_, +or some of Dekker's tracts, "Pedlars' French" may be found in abundance. + +[246] I print this passage exactly as I find it in the MS. With a little +trouble it might be turned into good law. + +[247] _Aut Shirley aut Diabolus_. Cf. _Duke's Mistress_, iv. 1: + + "You shall lead destiny in cords of silk, + And it shall follow tame and to your pleasure." + +[248] Sc. swaggering. + +[249] A Chrisome child was one that died within a month after birth, at +the time of wearing the Chrisome cloth (i.e. the cloth formerly wrapt +round a child after baptism). Device implies that his rival is perfectly +helpless among ladies, a mere child. + +[250] "In the City of London," says Nares, "young freemen who march at +the head of their proper companies on the lord mayor's day, sometimes +with flags, were called _whifflers_ or _bachelor whifflers_, not because +they cleared the way but because they went first as whifflers did.--'I +look'd the next Lord Mayor's day to see you o' the livery, or one of the +_bachelor_ whifflers. _City Match_.'" + +[251] These words are scored through in the MS. + +[252] To "bear a brain" means to have understanding. The expression is +very common. + +[253] Not marked in the MS. + +[254] The earliest reference I have yet found to the "Cup at +_Newmarket_" is in Shirley's _Hyde Park_, v. 1. + +[255] The exact date of his death is unknown; he was dead before the +performance of Ben Jonson's _Bartholomew Fair_ (1614). + +[256] "Merlin. The _falco aesalon_ of Linnaeus, a small species of hawk; +sometimes corrupted into murleon. It was chiefly used to fly at small +birds, and Latham says it was particularly appropriated to the service +of ladies."--Nares. + +[257] Thomas Heywood gives an account of the "great ship" in his "True +description of his Majesties Royall Ship built this yeare 1637 at +Wool-witch in Kent," &c. 1637. 4to. + +[258] "Back side" = back yard. + +[259] A wild cat. + +[260] This scene was added, as an afterthought, at the end of the MS. In +the body of the MS. we find only "_A song ith taverne. Enter Thomas_." + +[261] The stage direction is my own. + +[262] All that I know at present of Mr. Adson is that he published in +1621 a collection of "Courtly Masquing Ayres." + +[263] A corruption of "_save-reverence_": we usually find the form +"sir-reverence." + +[264] i.e. drunk. + +[265] An allusion to Webster's "_Vittoria Coromborea, or the White +Devil_." + +[266] Not marked in MS. We have, instead, a note:-- + + _"And then begin as was intended."_ + +[267] Old authors constantly allude to the riotous conduct of the +'prentices on Shrove Tuesday. + +[268] This is a correction (in the MS.) for "to a Beggars tune." + +[269] So in Dekker & Middleton's _First Part of the Honest Whore_ +(IV. 3):-- + + "_A sister's thread_ i' faith had been enough." + +Dyce was no doubt right in thinking that the expression is a corruption +of _sewster's_ thread. In Ford's _Lady's Trial_, Gifford altered +"sister's thread" to "_silver_ thread." Shirley has "sister's thread" in +_Hyde Park_ (V. 1). + +[270] With this abuse cf. a very similar passage in Shirley's _Duke's +Mistress_ (IV. 1). + +[271] The _Woman Hater_ in Beaumont and Fletcher's play. + +[272] "Canaries" was the name of a quick, lively dance. Cf. Middlemen's +_Spanish Gipsy_ (IV. 2): "Fortune's a scurvy whore if she makes not my +head sound like a rattle and my heels dance the canaries." + +[273] Cf. a similar passage in Shirley's _Brothers_ (iii. 1). + +[274] In Sidney's _Arcadia_. + +[275] Cf. Jonson's _Every Man out of his Humour_, II. 1: "They say +there's a new motion of the city of _Niniveh_ with _Jonas_ and the whale +to be seen at _Fleet bridge_." (A _motion_, of course, is a puppet-show.) + +[276] This line occurs, word for word, in Shirley's _Bird in a Cage_ +(IV. 1):-- + + ... "A bird to be made much on. She and the horse + _That snorts at Spain by an instinct of nature_ + Should have shown tricks together." + +[277] An allusion to the game of "barley-break." + +[278] In the MS. the speaker's name is omitted. I have chosen +_Courtwell_ at a venture. + +[279] _Holland's Leaguer_ was the name of a notorious brothel in +Southwark. + +[280] _The Tell-Tale_. Through the courtesy of the Master, Dr. Carver, I +have had an opportunity of examining this play. It is of no particular +interest. The comic part is very poor, suggesting William Rowley at his +worst. Here are some fair lines, the best I can find:-- + + _Fide[lio]_. How? dead in prison? + + _Duke_. Dead, _Fidelio_: + Things of theire nature, like [a] vipers brood, + Kill their owne parents. But having sett the Court + In some good order, my next busines + Ys thus disguis'd to overlooke the Camp; + For a rude army, like a plott of ground + Left to yt selfe, growes to a wildernes + Peopled with wolves & tigers, should not the prince + Like to a carefull gardner see yt fenct, + Waterd & weeded with industrious care, + That hee ithe time of pruning nether spare + Weeds for faire looks and painted bravery, nor + Cut downe good hearbs and serviceable for + Theire humble growth: the violet that is borne + Under a hedg outsmells the blossomd thorne + That dwells fare higher. + + _Fide_. Yare full of goodnes & have layd out much + In provision for the whole state. + + _Duke_. My place: I am overseer + And bound to seet provided for by pattent. + For as the sunn, when lesser plannets sleep, + Holds his continued progresse on and keepes + A watchful eye over the world, so kings + (When meaner subjects have their revillings + And sports about them) move in a restless herde; + The publique safty is theyr privat care. + But now farewell; the army once surveighd + Expect mee here. + + _Fid_. Your pleasure bee obaid. + +[281] A few years ago I suggested in "Notes and Queries" that this +unknown author was Cyril Tourneur. Afterwards I discovered that I had +been anticipated by Thomas Lovell Beddoes. Curiously enough Mr. Fleay +had independently arrived at the same conclusion. Mr. Swinburne (_Essay +on Chapman_) is inclined to attribute the _Second Maiden's Tragedy_ to +Middleton. + +[282] The next scene is marked _Act 2, Scene 1_. + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Collection of Old English Plays, +Vol. II, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OLD ENGLISH PLAYS, V2 *** + +***** This file should be named 10656.txt or 10656.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/6/5/10656/ + +Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Tapio Riikonen and PG Distributed +Proofreaders + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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