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authorRoger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>2025-10-15 04:38:43 -0700
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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12039 ***
+
+THE CUSTOM OF THE COUNTRY.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+Persons Represented in the Play.
+
+Count Clodio, _Governour and a dishonourable pursuer of_ Zenocia.
+Manuel du Sosa, _Governour of_ Lisbon, _and Brother to_ Guiomar.
+Arnoldo, _A Gentleman contracted to_ Zenocia.
+Rutilio, _A merry Gentleman Brother to_ Arnoldo.
+Charino, _Father to_ Zenocia.
+Duarte, _Son to_ Guiomar, _a Gentleman well qualified but vain glorious_.
+Alonzo, _a young_ Portugal _Gentleman, enemy to_ Duarte.
+Leopold, _a Sea Captain Enamour'd on_ Hippolyta.
+Zabulon, _a_ Jew, _servant to_ Hippolyta.
+Jaques, _servant to_ Sulpitia.
+Doctor.
+Chirurgion.
+Officers.
+Guard.
+Page.
+Bravo.
+Knaves, _of the Male Stewes_.
+Servants.
+
+_WOMEN._
+
+Zenocia, _Mistress to_ Arnoldo, _and a chaste Wife_.
+Guiomar, _a vertuous Lady, Mother to_ Duarte.
+Hippolyta, _a rich Lady, wantonly in Love with_ Arnoldo.
+Sulpitia, _a Bawd, Mistress of the Male Stewes_.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+_The Scene sometimes_ Lisbon, _sometimes_ Italy.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+The principal Actors were
+_Joseph Taylor_. _Robert Benfeild_.
+_John Lowin_. _William Eglestone_.
+_Nicholas Toolie_. _Richard Sharpe_.
+_John Underwood_. _Thomas Holcomb_.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+_Actus primus. Scena prima_.
+
+
+_Enter_ Rutilio, _and_ Arnold[o].
+
+_Rut._ Why do you grieve thus still?
+
+_Arn._ 'Twould melt a Marble,
+And tame a Savage man, to feel my fortune.
+
+_Rut._ What fortune? I have liv'd this thirty years,
+And run through all these follies you call fortunes,
+Yet never fixt on any good and constant,
+But what I made myself: why should I grieve then
+At that I may mould any way?
+
+_Arn._ You are wide still.
+
+_Rut._ You love a Gentlewoman, a young handsom woman,
+I have lov'd a thosand, not so few.
+
+_Arn._ You are dispos'd.
+
+_Rut._ You hope to Marry her; 'tis a lawful calling
+And prettily esteem'd of, but take heed then,
+Take heed dear Brother of a stranger fortune
+Than e're you felt yet; fortune my foe is a friend to it.
+
+_Arn._ 'Tis true I love, dearly, and truly love,
+A noble, vertuous, and most beauteous Maid,
+And am belov'd again.
+
+_Rut._ That's too much o' Conscience,
+To love all these would run me out o' my wits.
+
+_Arn._ Prethee give ear, I am to Marry her.
+
+_Rut._ Dispatch it then, and I'le go call the Piper.
+
+_Arn._ But O the wicked Custom of this Country,
+The barbarous, most inhumane, damned Custom.
+
+_Rut_. 'Tis true, to marry is a Custom
+I' the world; for look you Brother,
+Wou'd any man stand plucking for the Ace of Harts,
+With one pack of Cards all dayes on's life?
+
+_Arn._ You do not
+Or else you purpose not to understand me.
+
+_Rut._ Proceed, I will give ear.
+
+_Arn._ They have a Custom
+In this most beastly Country, out upon't.
+
+_Rut._ Let's hear it first.
+
+_Arn._ That when a Maid is contracted
+And ready for the tye o'th' Church, the Governour,
+He that commands in chief, must have her Maiden-head,
+Or Ransom it for mony at his pleasure.
+
+_Rut._ How might a man atchieve that place? a rare Custom!
+An admirable rare Custom: and none excepted?
+
+_Arn._ None, none.
+
+_Rut._ The rarer still: how could I lay about me,
+In this rare Office? are they born to it, or chosen?
+
+_Arn._ Both equal damnable.
+
+_Rut._ Me thinks both excellent,
+Would I were the next heir.
+
+_Arn._ To this mad fortune
+Am I now come, my Marriage is proclaim'd,
+And nothing can redeem me from this mischief.
+
+_Rut._ She's very young.
+
+_Arn._ Yes.
+
+_Rut._ And fair I dare proclaim her,
+Else mine eyes fail.
+
+_Arn._ Fair as the bud unblasted.
+
+_Rut._ I cannot blame him then, if 'twere mine own case,
+I would not go an Ace less.
+
+_Arn._ Fye _Rutilio_,
+Why do you make your brothers misery
+Your sport and game?
+
+_Rut._ There is no pastime like it.
+
+_Arn._ I look'd for your advice, your timely Counsel,
+How to avoid this blow, not to be mockt at,
+And my afflictions jeer'd.
+
+_Rut._ I tell thee _Arnoldo_,
+An thou wert my Father, as thou art but my Brother,
+My younger Brother too, I must be merry.
+And where there is a wench yet can, a young wench,
+A handsome wench, and sooner a good turn too,
+An I were to be hang'd, thus must I handle it.
+But you shall see Sir, I can change this habit
+To do you any service; advise what you please,
+And see with what Devotion I'le attend it?
+But yet me thinks, I am taken with this Custom,
+
+[_Enter_ Charino _and_ Zenocia.
+
+And could pretend to th' place.
+
+_Arn._ Draw off a little;
+Here comes my Mistress and her Father.
+
+_Rut._ A dainty wench!
+Wou'd I might farm his Custom.
+
+_Char._ My dear Daughter,
+Now to bethink your self of new advice
+Will be too late, later this timeless sorrow,
+No price, nor prayers, can infringe the fate
+Your beauty hath cast on yo[u], my best _Zenocia_,
+Be rul'd by me, a Fathers care directs ye,
+Look on the Count, look chearfully and sweetly;
+What though he have the power to possess ye,
+To pluck your Maiden honour, and then slight ye
+By Custom unresistible to enjoy you;
+Yet my sweet Child, so much your youth and goodness,
+The beauty of your soul, and Saint-like Modesty,
+Have won upon his mild mind, so much charm'd him,
+That all power laid aside, what Law allows him,
+Or sudden fires, kindled from those bright eyes,
+He sues to be your servant, fairly, nobly
+For ever to be tyed your faithful Husband:
+Consider my best child.
+
+_Zeno._ I have considered.
+
+_Char._ The blessedness that this breeds too, consider
+Besides your Fathers Honour, your own peace,
+The banishment for ever of this Custom,
+This base and barbarous use, for after once
+He has found the happiness of holy Marriage,
+And what it is to grow up with one Beauty,
+How he will scorn and kick at such an heritage
+Left him by lust and lewd progenitors.
+All Virgins too, shall bless your name, shall Saint it,
+And like so many Pilgrims go to your shrine,
+When time has turn'd your beauty into ashes,
+Fill'd with your pious memory.
+
+_Zeno._ Good Father
+Hide not that bitter Pill I loath to swallow
+In such sweet words.
+
+_Char._ The Count's a handsome Gentleman,
+And having him, y'are certain of a fortune,
+A high and noble fortune to attend you:
+Where if you fling your Love upon this stranger
+This young _Arnoldo_, not knowing from what place
+Or honourable strain of blood he is sprung, you venture
+All your own sweets, and my long cares to nothing,
+Nor are you certain of his faith; why may not that
+Wander as he does, every where?
+
+_Zen._ No more Sir;
+I must not hear, I dare not hear him wrong'd thus,
+Vertue is never wounded, but I suffer.
+'Tis an ill Office in your age, a poor one,
+To judge thus weakly: and believe your self too,
+A weaker, to betray your innocent Daughter,
+To his intemp'rate, rude, and wild embraces,
+She hates as Heaven hates falshood.
+
+_Rut._ A good wench,
+She sticks close to you Sir.
+
+_Zeno._ His faith uncertain?
+The nobleness his vertue springs from, doubted?
+D'ye doubt it is day now? or when your body's perfect,
+Your stomach's well dispos'd, your pulse's temperate,
+D'ye doubt you are in health? I tell you Father,
+One hour of this mans goodness, this mans Nobleness
+Put in the Scale, against the Counts whole being,
+Forgive his lusts too, which are half his life,
+He could no more endure to hold weight with him;
+_Arnoldo's_ very looks, are fair examples;
+His common and indifferent actions,
+Rules and strong ties of vertue: he has my first love,
+To him in sacred vow I have given this body,
+In him my mind inhabits.
+
+_Rut._ Good wench still.
+
+_Zeno._ And till he fling me off, as undeserving,
+Which I confess I am, of such a blessing,
+But would be loth to find it so--
+
+_Arn._ O never;
+Never my happy Mistress, never, never,
+When your poor servant lives but in your favour,
+One foot i'th' grave the other shall not linger.
+What sacrifice of thanks, what age of service,
+What danger, of more dreadful look than death,
+What willing Martyrdom to crown me constant
+May merit such a goodness, such a sweetness?
+A love so Nobly great, no power can ruine;
+Most blessed Maid go on, the Gods that gave this,
+This pure unspotted love, the Child of Heaven,
+In their own goodness, must preserve and save it,
+And raise you a reward beyond our recompence.
+
+_Zeno._ I ask but you, a pure Maid to possess,
+And then they have crown'd my wishes: If I fall then
+Go seek some better love, mine will debase you.
+
+_Rut._ A pretty innocent fool; well, Governour,
+Though I think well of your custom, and could wish my self
+For this night in your place, heartily wish it:
+Yet if you play not fair play and above board too,
+I have a foolish gin here, I say no more;
+I'le tell you what, and if your honours guts are not inchanted.
+
+_Arn._ I should now chide you Sir, for so declining
+The goodness and the grace you have ever shew'd me,
+And your own vertue too, in seeking rashly
+To violate that love Heaven has appointed,
+To wrest your Daughters thoughts, part that affection
+That both our hearts have tyed, and seek to give it.
+
+_Rut._ To a wild fellow, that would weary her;
+A Cannibal, that feeds on the heads of Maids,
+Then flings their bones and bodies to the Devil,
+Would any man of discretion venture such a gristle,
+To the rude clawes of such a _Cat-a-mountain_?
+You had better tear her between two Oaks, a Town Bull
+Is a meer _Stoick_ to this fellow, a grave Philosopher,
+And a _Spanish_ Jennet, a most vertuous Gentleman.
+
+_Arn._ Does this seem handsome Sir?
+
+_Rut._ Though I confess
+Any man would desire to have her, and by any means,
+At any rate too, yet that this common Hangman,
+That hath whipt off the heads of a thousand maids already,
+That he should glean the Harvest, sticks in my stomach:
+This Rogue breaks young wenches to the Saddle,
+And teaches them to stumble ever after;
+That he should have her? for my Brother now
+That is a handsome young fellow; and well thought on,
+And will deal tenderly in the business;
+Or for my self that have a reputation,
+And have studied the conclusions of these causes,
+And know the perfect manage, I'le tell you old Sir,
+If I should call you wise Sir, I should bely you,
+This thing, you study to betray your child to,
+This Maiden-monger. When you have done your best,
+And think you have fixt her in the point of honour,
+Who do you think you have tyed her to? a Surgeon,
+I must confess an excellent dissector,
+One that has cut up more young tender Lamb-pies--
+
+_Char_. What I spake Gentlemen, was meer compulsion,
+No Fathers free-will, nor did I touch your person
+With any edge of spight; or strain your loves
+With any base, or hir'd perswasions;
+Witness these tears, how well I wisht your fortunes. [_Exit._
+
+_Rut_. There's some grace in thee yet, you are determined
+To marry this Count, Lady.
+
+_Zen_. Marry him _Rutilio_?
+
+_Rut_. Marry him, and lye with him I mean.
+
+_Zen_. You cannot mean that,
+If you be a true Gentleman, you dare not,
+The Brother to this man, and one that loves him;
+I'le marry the Devil first.
+
+_Rut_. A better choice
+And lay his horns by, a handsomer bed-fellow,
+A cooler o' my conscience.
+
+_Arn_. Pray let me ask you;
+And my dear Mistris, be not angry with me
+For what I shall propound, I am confident,
+No promise, nor no power, can force your love,
+I mean in way of marriage, never stir you,
+Nor to forget my faith, no state can wound you.
+But for this Custom, which this wretched country
+Hath wrought into a law, and must be satisfied;
+Where all the pleas of honour are but laught at,
+And modesty regarded as a may-game,
+What shall be here considered? power we have none,
+To make resistance, nor policie to cross it:
+'Tis held Religion too, to pay this duty.
+
+_Zeno_. I'le dye an _Atheist_ then.
+
+_Arn_. My noblest Mistris,
+Not that I wish it so, but say it were so,
+Say you did render up part of your honour,
+For whilst your will is clear, all cannot perish;
+Say for one night you entertain'd this monster,
+Should I esteem you worse, forc'd to this render?
+Your mind I know is pure, and full as beauteous;
+After this short eclipse, you would rise again,
+And shaking off that cloud, spread all your lustre.
+
+_Zeno_. Who made you witty, to undoe your self, Sir?
+Or are you loaden, with the love I bring you,
+And fain would fling that burthen on another?
+Am I grown common in your eyes _Arnoldo_?
+Old, or unworthy of your fellowship?
+D'ye think because a woman, I must err,
+And therefore rather wish that fall before-hand
+Coloured with Custom, not to be resisted?
+D'ye love as painters doe, only some pieces,
+Some certain handsome touches of your Mistris,
+And let the mind pass by you, unexamined?
+Be not abus'd; with what the maiden vessel
+Is seasoned first, you understand the proverb.
+
+_Rut_. I am afraid, this thing will make me vertuous.
+
+_Zeno_. Should you lay by the least part of that love
+Y'ave sworn is mine, your youth and faith has given me,
+To entertain another, nay a fairer,
+And make the case thus desp'rate, she must dy else;
+D'ye think I would give way, or count this honest?
+Be not deceiv'd, these eyes should never see you more,
+This tongue forget to name you, and this heart
+Hate you, as if you were born, my full _Antipathie_.
+_Empire_ and more imperious love, alone
+Rule, and admit no rivals: the purest springs
+When they are courted by lascivious land-floods,
+Their maiden pureness, and their coolness perish.
+And though they purge again to their first beauty,
+The sweetness of their taste is clean departed.
+I must have all or none; and am not worthy
+Longer the noble name of wife, _Arnoldo_,
+Than I can bring a whole heart pure and handsom.
+
+_Arnol_. I never shall deserve you: not to thank you;
+You are so heavenly good, no man can reach you:
+I am sorrie I spake so rashly, 'twas but to try you.
+
+_Rut_. You might have tryed a thousand women so,
+And 900, fourscore and 19 should ha' followed your counsel.
+Take heed o' clapping spurrs to such free cattell.
+
+_Arn_. We must bethink us suddenly and constantly,
+And wisely too, we expect no common danger.
+
+_Zen_. Be most assur'd, I'le dye first.
+
+_Enter_ Clodio, _and_ Guard.
+
+_Rut_. An't come to that once,
+The Devil pick his bones, that dyes a coward,
+I'le jog along with you, here comes the Stallion,
+How smug he looks upon the imagination
+Of what he hopes to act! pox on your kidneys;
+How they begin to melt! how big he bears,
+Sure he will leap before us all: what a sweet company
+Of rogues and panders wait upon his lewdness!
+Plague of your chops, you ha' more handsome bitts,
+Than a hundred honester men, and more deserving.
+How the dogg leers.
+
+_Clod_. You need not now be jealous,
+I speak at distance to your wife, but when the Priest has done,
+We shall grow nearer, and more familiar.
+
+_Rut_. I'le watch you for that trick, baboon, I'le
+Smoke you: the rogue sweats, as if he had eaten
+Grains, he broyles, if I do come to the
+Basting of you.
+
+_Arno_. Your Lordship
+May happily speak this, to fright a stranger,
+But 'tis not in your honour, to perform it;
+The Custom of this place, if such there be,
+At best most damnable, may urge you to it,
+But if you be an honest man you hate it,
+How ever I will presently prepare
+To make her mine, and most undoubtedly
+Believe you are abus'd, this custome feign'd too,
+And what you now pretend, most fair and vertuous.
+
+_Clod_. Go and believe, a good belief does well Sir;
+And you Sir, clear the place, but leave her here.
+
+_Arn_. Your Lordships pleasure.
+
+_Clod_. That anon _Arnoldo_,
+This is but talk.
+
+_Rut_. Shall we goe off?
+
+_Arn_. By any means,
+I know she has pious thoughts enough to guard her:
+Besides, here's nothing due to him till the tye be done,
+Nor dare he offer.
+
+_Rut_. Now do I long to worry him:
+Pray have a care to the main chance.
+
+_Zen_. Pray Sir, fear not. [_Exit_ Ar. _and_ Rut.
+
+_Clod_. Now, what say you to me?
+
+_Zen_. Sir it becomes
+The modestie, that maids are ever born with,
+To use few words.
+
+_Clod_. Do you see nothing in me?
+Nothing to catch your eyes, nothing of wonder
+The common mould of men, come short, and want in?
+Do you read no future fortune for your self here?
+And what a happiness it may be to you,
+To have him honour you, all women aim at?
+To have him love you Lady, that man love you,
+The best, and the most beauteous have run mad for?
+Look and be wise, you have a favour offer'd you
+I do not every day propound to women;
+You are a prettie one; and though each hour
+I am glutted with the sacrifice of beautie,
+I may be brought, as you may handle it,
+To cast so good a grace and liking on you.
+You understand, come kiss me, and be joyfull,
+I give you leave.
+
+_Zen_. Faith Sir, 'twill not shew handsome;
+Our sex is blushing, full of fear, unskil'd too
+In these alarms.
+
+_Clod_. Learn then and be perfect.
+
+_Zen_. I do beseech your honour pardon me,
+And take some skilfull one can hold you play,
+I am a fool.
+
+_Clod_. I tell thee maid I love thee,
+Let that word make thee happie, so far love thee,
+That though I may enjoy thee without ceremony,
+I will descend so low, to marry thee,
+Me thinks I see the race that shall spring from us,
+Some Princes, some great Souldiers.
+
+_Zen_. I am afraid
+Your honour's couzen'd in this calculation;
+For certain, I shall ne're have a child by you.
+
+_Clod_. Why?
+
+_Zen_. Because I must not think to marry you,
+I dare not Sir, the step betwixt your honour,
+And my poor humble State.
+
+_Clod_. I will descend to thee,
+And buoy thee up.
+
+_Zen_. I'le sink to th' Center first.
+Why would your Lordship marry, and confine that pleasure
+You ever have had freely cast upon you?
+Take heed my Lord, this marrying is a mad matter,
+Lighter a pair of shackles will hang on you,
+And quieter a quartane feaver find you.
+If you wed me I must enjoy you only,
+Your eyes must be called home, your thoughts in cages,
+To sing to no ears then but mine; your heart bound,
+The custom, that your youth was ever nurst in,
+Must be forgot, I shall forget my duty else,
+And how that will appear--
+
+_Clod_. Wee'l talk of that more.
+
+_Zen_. Besides I tell ye, I am naturally,
+As all young women are, that shew like handsome,
+Exceeding proud, being commended, monstrous.
+Of an unquiet temper, seldom pleas'd,
+Unless it be with infinite observance,
+Which you were never bred to; once well angred,
+As every cross in us, provokes that passion,
+And like a Sea, I roule, toss, and chafe a week after.
+And then all mischief I can think upon,
+Abusing of your bed the least and poorest,
+I tell you what you'le finde, and in these fitts,
+This little beauty you are pleased to honour,
+Will be so chang'd, so alter'd to an ugliness,
+To such a vizard, ten to one, I dye too,
+Take't then upon my death you murder'd me.
+
+_Clod_. Away, away fool, why dost thou proclame these
+To prevent that in me, thou hast chosen in another?
+
+_Zen_. Him I have chosen, I can rule and master,
+Temper to what I please, you are a great one
+Of a strong will to bend, I dare not venture.
+Be wise my Lord, and say you were well counsel'd,
+Take mony for my ransom, and forget me,
+'Twill be both safe, and noble for your honour,
+And wheresoever my fortunes shall conduct me,
+So worthy mentions I shall render of you,
+So vertuous and so fair.
+
+_Clod_. You will not marrie me?
+
+_Zen_. I do beseech your honour, be not angry
+At what I say, I cannot love ye, dare not;
+But set a ransom, for the flowr you covet.
+
+_Clod_. No mony, nor no prayers, shall redeem that,
+Not all the art you have.
+
+_Zen_. Set your own price Sir.
+
+_Clod_. Goe to your wedding, never kneel to me,
+When that's done, you are mine, I will enjoy you:
+Your tears do nothing, I will not lose my custom
+To cast upon my self an Empires fortune.
+
+_Zen_. My mind shall not pay this custom, cruel man. [_Ex_.
+
+_Clod_. Your body will content me: I'le look for you. [_Ex_.
+
+_Enter_ Charino, _and servants in blacks. Covering the
+place with blacks_.
+
+_Char_. Strew all your withered flowers, your Autumn sweets
+By the hot Sun ravisht of bud and beauty
+Thus round about her Bride-bed, hang those blacks there
+The emblemes of her honour lost; all joy
+That leads a Virgin to receive her lover,
+Keep from this place, all fellow-maids that bless her,
+And blushing do unloose her Zone, keep from her:
+No merry noise nor lusty songs be heard here,
+Nor full cups crown'd with wine make the rooms giddy,
+This is no masque of mirth, but murdered honour.
+Sing mournfully that sad Epithalamion
+I gave thee now: and prethee let thy lute weep.
+
+Song, Dance. _Enter_ Rutilio.
+
+_Rut_. How now, what livery's this? do you call this a wedding?
+This is more like a funeral.
+
+_Char_. It is one,
+And my poor Daughter going to her grave,
+To his most loath'd embraces that gapes for her.
+Make the Earles bed readie, is the marriage done Sir?
+
+_Rut_. Yes they are knit; but must this slubberdegullion
+Have her maiden-head now?
+
+[_Char_.] There's no avoiding it.
+
+_Rut_. And there's the scaffold where she must lose it.
+
+[_Char_.] The bed Sir.
+
+_Rut_. No way to wipe his mouldy chaps?
+
+_Char_. That we know.
+
+_Rut_. To any honest well-deserving fellow,
+And 'twere but to a merry Cobbler, I could sit still now,
+I love the game so well; but that this puckfist,
+This universal rutter--fare ye well Sir;
+And if you have any good prayers, put 'em forward,
+There may be yet a remedie.
+
+_Char_. I wish it, [_Exit_ Rut.
+And all my best devotions offer to it.
+
+_Enter_ Clodio, _and_ Guard.
+
+_Clod_. Now is this tye dispatch'd?
+
+_Char_. I think it be Sir.
+
+_Clod_. And my bed ready?
+
+_Char_. There you may quickly find Sir,
+Such a loath'd preparation.
+
+_Clod_. Never grumble,
+Nor fling a discontent upon my pleasure,
+It must and shall be done: give me some wine,
+And fill it till it leap upon my lips: [_wine_
+Here's to the foolish maidenhead you wot of,
+The toy I must take pains for.
+
+_Char_. I beseech your Lordship
+Load not a Fathers love.
+
+_Clod_. Pledge it _Charino_,
+Or by my life I'le make thee pledge thy last,
+And be sure she be a maid, a perfect Virgin,
+(I will not have my expectation dull'd)
+Or your old pate goes off. I am hot and fiery,
+And my bloud beats alarms through my body,
+And fancie high. You of my guard retire,
+And let me hear no noise about the lodging
+But musick and sweet ayres, now fetch your Daughter,
+And bid the coy wench put on all her beauties,
+All her enticements, out-blush damask Roses,
+And dim the breaking East with her bright Crystals.
+I am all on fire, away.
+
+_Char_. And I am frozen. [_Exit_.
+
+_Enter_ Zenocia _with Bow and Quiver, an Arrow bent_,
+Arnoldo _and_ Rutilio _after her, arm'd_.
+
+_Zen_. Come fearless on.
+
+_Rut_. Nay an I budge from thee
+Beat me with durty sticks.
+
+_Clod_. What Masque is this?
+What pretty fancy to provoke me high?
+The beauteous Huntress, fairer far, and sweeter;
+Diana shewes an Ethiop to this beauty
+Protected by two Virgin Knights.
+
+_Rut_. That's a lye,
+A loud one, if you knew as much as I do,
+The Guard's dispers'd.
+
+_Arn_. Fortune I hope invites us.
+
+_Clod_. I can no longer hold, she pulls my heart from me.
+
+_Zen_. Stand, and stand fixt, move not a foot, nor speak not,
+For if thou doest, upon this point thy death sits.
+Thou miserable, base, and sordid lecher,
+Thou scum of noble blood, repent and speedily,
+Repent thy thousand thefts, from helpless Virgins,
+Their innocence betrayed to thy embraces.
+
+_Arn_. The base dishonour, that thou doest to strangers,
+In glorying to abuse the Laws of Marriage,
+Thy Infamy thou hast flung upon thy Country,
+In nourishing this black and barbarous Custom.
+
+_Clod_. My Guard.
+
+_Arn_. One word more, and thou diest.
+
+_Rut_. One syllable
+That tends to any thing, but I beseech you,
+And as y'are Gentlemen tender my case,
+And I'le thrust my Javeling down thy throat.
+Thou Dog-whelp, thou, pox upon thee, what
+Should I call thee, Pompion,
+Thou kiss my Lady? thou scour her Chamber-pot:
+Thou have a Maiden-head? a mottly Coat,
+You great blind fool, farewel and be hang'd to ye,
+Lose no time Lady.
+
+_Arn_. Pray take your pleasure Sir,
+And so we'l take our leaves.
+
+_Zen_. We are determined,
+Dye, before yield.
+
+_Arn_. Honour, and a fair grave.
+
+_Zen_. Before a lustful Bed, so for our fortunes.
+
+_Rut_. _Du cat awhee_, good Count, cry, prethee cry,
+O what a wench hast thou lost! cry you great booby. [_Exe_.
+
+_Enter_ Charino.
+
+_Clod_. And is she gone then, am I dishonoured thus,
+Cozened and baffl'd? my Guard there, no man answer?
+My Guard I say, sirrah you knew of this plot;
+Where are my Guard? I'le have your life you villain,
+You politick old Thief.
+
+_Char_. Heaven send her far enough,
+
+_Enter Guard_.
+
+And let me pay the ransom.
+
+_Guard_. Did your honour call us?
+
+_Clod_. Post every way, and presently recover
+The two strange Gentlemen, and the fair Lady.
+
+_Guard_. This day was Married Sir?
+
+_Clod_. The same.
+
+_Guard_. We saw 'em.
+Making with all main speed to th' Port.
+
+_Clod_. Away villains. [_Exit Guard_.
+Recover her, or I shall dye; deal truly,
+Didst not thou know?
+
+_Char_. By all that's good I did not.
+If your honour mean their flight, to say I grieve for that,
+Will be to lye; you may handle me as you please.
+
+_Clod_. Be sure, with all the cruelty, with all the rigor,
+For thou hast rob'd me villain of a treasure.
+
+_Enter Guard_.
+
+How now?
+
+_Guard_. They're all aboard, a Bark rode ready for 'em,
+And now are under Sail, and past recovery.
+
+_Clod_. Rig me a Ship with all the speed that may be,
+I will not lose her: thou her most false Father,
+Shalt go along; and if I miss her, hear me,
+A whole day will I study to destroy thee.
+
+_Char_. I shall be joyful of it; and so you'l find me.
+
+[_Exeunt omnes_.
+
+
+
+
+_Actus Secundus. Scena Prima_.
+
+
+_Enter_ Manuel du Sosa, _and_ Guiomar.
+
+_Man_. I Hear and see too much of him, and that
+Compels me Madam, though unwillingly,
+To wish I had no Uncles part in him,
+And much I fear, the comfort of a Son
+You will not long enjoy.
+
+_Gui_. 'Tis not my fault,
+And therefore from his guilt my innocence
+Cannot be tainted, since his Fathers death,
+(Peace to his soul) a Mothers prayers and care
+Were never wanting, in his education.
+His Child-hood I pass o're, as being brought up
+Under my wing; and growing ripe for study,
+I overcame the tenderness, and joy
+I had to look upon him, and provided
+The choicest Masters, and of greatest name
+Of _Salamanca_, in all liberal Arts.
+
+_Man_. To train his youth up.
+I must witness that.
+
+_Gui_. How there he prospered to the admiration
+Of all that knew him, for a general Scholar,
+Being one of note, before he was a man,
+Is still remembred in that _Academy_,
+From thence I sent him to the Emperours Court,
+Attended like his Fathers Son, and there
+Maintain'd him, in such bravery and height,
+As did become a Courtier.
+
+_Man_. 'Twas that spoil'd him, my Nephew had been happy.
+The Court's a School indeed, in which some few
+Learn vertuous principles, but most forget
+What ever they brought thither good and honest.
+Trifling is there in practice, serious actions
+Are obsolete and out of use, my Nephew
+Had been a happy man, had he ne're known
+What's there in grace and fashion.
+
+_Gui_. I have heard yet,
+That while he liv'd in Court, the Emperour
+Took notice of his carriage and good parts,
+The Grandees did not scorn his company,
+And of the greatest Ladies he was held
+A compleat Gentleman.
+
+_Man_. He indeed Daunc'd well;
+A turn o'th' Toe, with a lofty trick or two,
+To argue nimbleness, and a strong back,
+Will go far with a Madam: 'tis most true,
+That he's an excellent Scholar, and he knows it;
+An exact Courtier, and he knows that too;
+He has fought thrice, and come off still with honour,
+Which he forgets not.
+
+_Gui_. Nor have I much reason,
+To grieve his fortune that way.
+
+_Man_. You are mistaken,
+Prosperity does search a Gentlemans temper,
+More than his adverse fortune: I have known
+Many, and of rare parts from their success
+In private Duels, rais'd up to such a pride,
+And so transform'd from what they were, that all
+That lov'd them truly, wish'd they had fallen in them.
+I need not write examples, in your Son
+'Tis too apparent; for e're _Don Duarte_
+Made tryal of his valour, he indeed was
+Admired for civil courtesie, but now
+He's swoln so high, out of his own assurance,
+Of what he dares do, that he seeks occasions,
+Unjust occasions, grounded on blind passion,
+Ever to be in quarrels, and this makes him
+Shunn'd of all fair Societies.
+
+_Gui_. Would it were
+In my weak power to help it: I will use
+With my entreaties th' Authority of a Mother,
+As you may of an Uncle, and enlarge it
+With your command, as being a Governour
+To the great King in _Lisbon.
+
+Enter_ Duarte _and his Page_.
+
+_Man_. Here he comes.
+We are unseen, observe him.
+
+_Dua_. Boy.
+
+_Page_. My Lord.
+
+_Dua_. What saith the _Spanish_ Captain that I struck,
+To my bold challenge?
+
+_Page_. He refus'd to read it.
+
+_Dua_. Why didst not leave it there?
+
+_Page_. I did my Lord,
+But to no purpose, for he seems more willing
+To sit down with the wrongs, than to repair
+His honour by the sword; he knows too well,
+That from your Lordship nothing can be got
+But more blows, and disgraces.
+
+_Dua_. He's a wretch,
+A miserable wretch, and all my fury
+Is lost upon him; holds the Mask, appointed
+I'th' honour of _Hippolyta_?
+
+_Page_. 'Tis broke off.
+
+_Dua_. The reason?
+
+_Page_. This was one, they heard your Lordship
+Was by the Ladies choice to lead the Dance,
+And therefore they, too well assur'd how far
+You would outshine 'em, gave it o're and said,
+They would not serve for foiles to set you off.
+
+_Dua_. They at their best are such, and ever shall be
+Where I appear.
+
+_Man_. Do you note his modesty?
+
+_Dua_. But was there nothing else pretended?
+
+_Page_. Yes,
+Young Don _Alonzo_, the great Captains Nephew,
+Stood on comparisons.
+
+_Dua_. With whom?
+
+_Page_. With you,
+And openly profess'd that all precedence,
+His birth and state consider'd, was due to him,
+Nor were your Lordship to contend with one
+So far above you.
+
+_Dua_. I look down upon him
+With such contempt and scorn, as on my slave,
+He's a name only, and all good in him
+He must derive from his great grandsires Ashes,
+For had not their victorious acts bequeath'd
+His titles to him, and wrote on his forehead,
+This is a Lord, he had liv'd unobserv'd
+By any man of mark, and died as one
+Amongst the common route. Compare with me?
+'Tis Gyant-like ambition; I know him,
+And know my self, that man is truly noble,
+And he may justly call that worth his own,
+Which his deserts have purchas'd, I could wish
+My birth were more obscure, my friends and kinsmen
+Of lesser power, or that my provident Father
+Had been like to that riotous Emperour
+That chose his belly for his only heir;
+For being of no family then, and poor
+My vertues wheresoe'r I liv'd, should make
+That kingdom my inheritance.
+
+_Gui_. Strange self Love!
+
+_Dua_. For if I studied the Countries Laws,
+I should so easily sound all their depth,
+And rise up such a wonder, that the pleaders,
+That now are in most practice and esteem,
+Should starve for want of Clients: if I travell'd,
+Like wise _Ulysses_ to see men and manners,
+I would return in act, more knowing, than
+_Homer_ could fancy him; if a Physician,
+So oft I would restore death-wounded men,
+That where I liv'd, _Galen_ should not be nam'd,
+And he that joyn'd again the scatter'd limbs
+Of torn _Hippolytus_ should be forgotten.
+I could teach _Ovid_ courtship, how to win
+A _Julia_, and enjoy her, though her Dower
+Were all the Sun gives light to: and for arms
+Were the _Persian_ host that drank up Rivers, added
+To the _Turks_ present powers, I could direct,
+Command, and Marshal them.
+
+_Man_. And yet you know not
+To rule your self, you would not to a boy else
+Like _Plautus_ Braggart boast thus.
+
+_Dua_. All I speak,
+In act I can make good.
+
+_Gui_. Why then being Master
+Of such and so good parts do you destroy them,
+With self opinion, or like a rich miser,
+Hoard up the treasures you possess, imparting
+Nor to your self nor others, the use of them?
+They are to you but like inchanted viands,
+On which you seem to feed, yet pine with hunger;
+And those so rare perfections in my Son
+Which would make others happy, render me
+A wretched Mother.
+
+_Man_. You are too insolent.
+And those too many excellencies, that feed
+Your pride, turn to a Pleurisie, and kill
+That which should nourish vertue; dare you think
+All blessings are confer'd on you alone?
+Y'are grosly cousen'd; there's no good in you,
+Which others have not: are you a Scholar? so
+Are many, and as knowing: are you valiant?
+Waste not that courage then in braules, but spend it
+In the Wars, in service of your King and Country.
+
+_Dua_. Yes, so I might be General, no man lives
+That's worthy to command me.
+
+_Man_. Sir, in _Lisbon_
+I am: and you shall know it; every hour
+I am troubled with complaints of your behaviour
+From men of all conditions, and all sexes.
+And my authority, which you presume
+Will bear you out, in that you are my Nephew,
+No longer shall protect you, for I vow
+Though all that's past I pardon, I will punish
+The next fault with as much severity
+As if you were a stranger, rest assur'd on't.
+
+_Gui_. And by that love you should bear, or that duty
+You owe a Mother, once more I command you
+To cast this haughtiness off; which if you do,
+All that is mine, is yours, if not, expect
+My prayers, and vows, for your conversion only,
+But never means nor favour. [_Ex_. Manuel _and_ Guiomar.
+
+_Dua_. I am Tutor'd
+As if I were a child still, the base Peasants
+That fear, and envy my great worth, have done this;
+But I will find them out, I will o'boord
+Get my disguise; I have too long been idle,
+Nor will I curb my spirit, I was born free,
+And will pursue the course best liketh me. [_Exeunt_.
+
+_Enter_ Leopold, Sailers, _and_ Zenocia.
+
+_Leop_. Divide the spoil amongst you, this fair Captive
+I only challenge for my self.
+
+_Sail_. You have won her
+And well deserve her: twenty years I have liv'd
+A Burgess of the Sea, and have been present
+At many a desperate fight, but never saw
+So small a Bark with such incredible valour
+So long defended, and against such odds,
+And by two men scarce arm'd too.
+
+_Leop_. 'Twas a wonder.
+And yet the courage they exprest being taken,
+And their contempt of death wan more upon me
+Than all they did, when they were free: me thinks
+I see them yet when they were brought aboard us,
+Disarm'd and ready to be put in fetters
+How on the suddain, as if they had sworn
+Never to taste the bread of servitude,
+Both snatching up their swords, and from this Virgin,
+Taking a farewel only with their eyes,
+They leapt into the Sea.
+
+_Sail_. Indeed 'twas rare.
+
+_Leop_. It wrought so much on me, that but I fear'd
+The great ship that pursued us, our own safety
+Hindring my charitable purpose to 'em,
+I would have took 'em up, and with their lives
+They should have had their liberties.
+
+_Zen_. O too late,
+For they are lost, for ever lost.
+
+_Leop_. Take comfort
+'Tis not impossible, but that they live yet,
+For when they left the ships, they were within
+A League o'th' shore, and with such strength and cunning
+They swimming, did delude the rising Billows,
+With one hand making way, and with the other,
+Their bloudy swords advanced, threatning the Sea-gods
+With war, unless they brought them safely off,
+That I am almost confident they live,
+And you again may see them.
+
+_Zen_. In that hope
+I brook a wretched being, till I am
+Made certain of their fortunes; but they dead,
+Death hath so many doors to let out life,
+I will not long survive them.
+
+_Leop_. Hope the best,
+And let the courteous usage you have found,
+Not usual in men of War perswade you
+To tell me your condition.
+
+_Zen_. You know it,
+A Captive, my fate and your power have made me,
+Such I am now, but what I was it skills not:
+For they being dead, in whom I only live,
+I dare not challenge Family, or Country,
+And therefore Sir enquire not, let it suffice,
+I am your servant, and a thankful servant
+(If you will call that so, which is but duty)
+I ever will be, and my honour safe,
+Which nobly hitherto ye have preserv'd,
+No slavery can appear in such a form,
+Which with a masculine constancy I will not
+Boldly look on and suffer.
+
+_Leop_. You mistake me:
+That you are made my prisoner, may prove
+The birth of your good fortune. I do find
+A winning language in your tongue and looks;
+Nor can a suit by you mov'd be deni'd,
+And therefore of a prisoner you must be
+The Victors advocate.
+
+_Zen._ To whom?
+
+_Leap._ A Lady:
+In whom all graces that can perfect beauty
+Are friendly met. I grant that you are fair:
+And had I not seen her before, perhaps
+I might have sought to you.
+
+_Zen._ This I hear gladly.
+
+_Leap._ To this incomparable Lady I will give you,
+(Yet being mine, you are already hers)
+And to serve her is more than to be free,
+At least I think so; and when you live with her,
+If you will please to think on him that brought you
+To such a happiness, for so her bounty
+Will make you think her service, you shall ever
+Make me at your devotion.
+
+_Zen._ All I can do,
+Rest you assur'd of.
+
+_Leap._ At night I'le present you,
+Till when I am your Guard.
+
+_Zen._ Ever your servant. [_Exeunt._
+
+ _Enter_ Arnoldo _and_ Rutilio.
+
+_Arn._ To what are we reserv'd?
+
+_Rut._ Troth 'tis uncertain,
+Drowning we have scap'd miraculously, and
+Stand fair for ought I know for hanging; mony
+We have none, nor e're are like to have,
+'Tis to be doubted: besides we are strangers,
+Wondrous hungry strangers; and charity
+Growing cold, and miracles ceasing,
+Without a Conjurers help, cannot find
+When we shall eat again.
+
+_Arn._ These are no wants
+If put in ballance with _Zenocias_ loss;
+In that alone all miseries are spoken:
+O my _Rutilio_, when I think on her,
+And that which she may suffer, being a Captive,
+Then I could curse my self, almost those powers
+That send me from the fury of the Ocean.
+
+_Rut_. You have lost a wife indeed, a fair and chast one,
+Two blessings, not found often in one woman;
+But she may be recovered, questionless
+The ship that took us was of _Portugal_,
+And here in _Lisbon_, by some means or other
+We may hear of her.
+
+_Arn_. In that hope I live.
+
+_Rut_. And so do I, but hope is a poor Sallad
+To dine and sup with, after a two dayes fast too,
+Have you no mony left?
+
+_Arn_. Not a Denier.
+
+_Rut_. Nor any thing to pawn? 'tis now in fashion,
+Having a Mistress, sure you should not be
+Without a neat Historical shirt.
+
+_Arn_. For shame
+Talk not so poorly.
+
+_Rut_. I must talk of that
+Necessity prompts us to, for beg I cannot,
+Nor am I made to creep in at a window,
+To filch to feed me, something must be done,
+And suddenly resolve on't.
+
+_Enter_ Zabulon _and a Servant_.
+
+_Arn_. What are these?
+
+_Rut_. One by his habit is a _Jew_.
+
+_Zab_. No more:
+Thou art sure that's he.
+
+_Ser_. Most certain.
+
+_Zab_. How long is it
+Since first she saw him?
+
+_Ser_. Some two hours.
+
+_Zab_. Be gone--let me alone to work him. [_Exit_ Ser.
+
+_Rut_. How he eyes you!
+Now he moves towards us, in the Devils name
+What would he with us?
+
+_Arn_. Innocence is bold:
+Nor can I fear.
+
+_Zab_. That you are poor and strangers,
+I easily perceive.
+
+_Rut_. But that you'l help us,
+Or any of your tribe, we dare not hope Sir.
+
+_Zab_. Why think you so?
+
+_Rut_. Because you are a _Jew_ Sir,
+And courtesies come sooner from the Devil
+Than any of your Nation.
+
+_Zab_. We are men,
+And have like you, compassion when we find
+Fit subjects for our bounty, and for proof
+That we dare give, and freely, not to you Sir,
+Pray spare your pains, there's gold, stand not amaz'd,
+'Tis current I assure you.
+
+_Rut_. Take it man,
+Sure thy good Angel is a _Jew_, and comes
+In his own shape to help thee: I could wish now
+Mine would appear too like a _Turk_.
+
+_Arn_. I thank you,
+But yet must tell you, if this be the Prologue
+To any bad act, you would have me practise,
+I must not take it.
+
+_Zab_. This is but the earnest
+Of [t]hat which is to follow, and the bond
+Which you must seal to for't, is your advancement,
+Fortune with all that's in her power to give,
+Offers her self up to you: entertain her,
+And that which Princes have kneel'd for in vain
+Presents it self to you.
+
+_Arn_. 'Tis above wonder.
+
+_Zab_. But far beneath the truth, in my relation
+Of what you shall possess, if you emb[r]ace it.
+There is an hour in each mans life appointed
+To make his happiness if then he seize it,
+And this, (in which, beyond all expectation,
+You are invited to your good) is yours,
+If you dare follow me, so, if not, hereafter
+Expect not the like offer. [_Exit_.
+
+_Arn_. 'Tis no vision.
+
+_Rut_. 'Tis gold I'm sure.
+
+_Arn_. We must like brothers share;
+There's for you.
+
+_Rut_. By this light I'm glad I have it:
+There are few Gallants, (for men may be such
+And yet want gold, yea and sometimes silver)
+But would receive such favours from the Devil,
+Though he appear'd like a Broker, and demanded
+Sixty i'th' hundred.
+
+_Arn_. Wherefore should I fear
+Some plot upon my life? 'tis now to me
+Not worth the keeping. I will follow him,
+Farewel, wish me good fortune, we shall meet
+Again I doubt not.
+
+_Rut_. Or I'le ne're trust _Jew_ more, [_Exit_ Arnoldo.
+Nor Christian for his sake--plague o' my stars,
+How long might I have walkt without a Cloak,
+Before I should have met with such a fortune?
+We elder Brothers, though we are proper men,
+_Ha' not the luck_, ha' too much beard, that spoils us;
+The smooth Chin carries all: what's here to do now?
+[_Manet_ Rutilio.
+
+_Enter_ Duarte, Alonzo, _and a_ Page.
+
+_Dua_. I'le take you as I find you.
+
+_Alon_. That were base--you see I am unarm'd.
+
+_Dua_. Out with your Bodkin
+Your Pocket-dagger, your Steletto, out with it,
+Or by this hand I'le kill you: such as you are
+Have studied the undoing of poor Cutlers,
+And made all manly weapons out of fashion:
+You carry Poniards to murder men,
+Yet dare not wear a sword to guard your Honour.
+
+_Rut_. That's true indeed: upon my life this gallant
+Is brib'd to repeal banisht swords.
+
+_Dua_. I'le shew you
+The difference now between a _Spanish_ Rapier
+And your pure Pisa.
+
+_Alon_. Let me fetch a sword,
+Upon mine honour I'le return.
+
+_Dua._ Not so Sir.
+
+_Alon._ Or lend me yours I pray you, and take this.
+
+_Rut._ To be disgrac'd as you are, no I thank you
+Spight of the fashion, while I live, I am
+Instructed to go arm'd: what folly 'tis
+For you that are a man, to put your self
+Into your enemies mercy.
+
+_Dua._ Yield it quickly
+Or I'le cut off your hand, and now disgrace you,
+Thus kick and baffle you: as you like this,
+You may again prefer complaints against me
+To my Uncle and my Mother, and then think
+To make it good with a Poniard.
+
+_Alon._ I am paid
+For being of the fashion.
+
+_Dua._ Get a sword,
+Then if you dare redeem your reputation:
+You know I am easily found: I'le add this to it
+To put you in mind.
+
+_Rut._ You are too insolent,
+And do insult too much on the advantage
+Of that which your unequal weapon gave you,
+More than your valour.
+
+_Dua._ This to me, you Peasant?
+Thou art not worthy of my foot poor fellow,
+'Tis scorn, not pity, makes me give thee life:
+Kneel down and thank me for't: how, do you stare?
+
+_Rut._ I have a sword Sir, you shall find, a good one;
+This is no stabbing guard.
+
+_Dua._ Wert thou thrice arm'd,
+Thus yet I durst attempt thee.
+
+_Rut._ Then have at you, [_Fight._
+I scorn to take blows.
+
+_Dua._ O I am slain. [_Falls._
+
+_Page._ Help! murther, murther!
+
+_Alon._ Shift for your self you are dead else,
+You have kill'd the Governou[r]s Nephew.
+
+_Page._ Raise the streets there.
+
+_Alon._ If once you are beset you cannot scape,
+Will you betray your self?
+
+_Rut_. Undone for ever. [_Exit_ Rut. _and_ Alonzo.
+
+_Enter_ Officers.
+
+_1 Off_. Who makes this out-cry?
+
+_Page_. O my Lord is murdered;
+This way he took, make after him,
+Help help there. [_Exit_ Page.
+
+_2 Offi_. 'Tis _Don Duarte_.
+
+_1 Offi_. Pride has got a fall,
+He was still in quarrels, scorn'd us Peace-makers,
+And all our Bill-authority, now h'as paid for't.
+You ha' met with your match Sir now, bring off his body
+And bear it to the Governour. Some pursue
+The murderer; yet if he scape, it skills not;
+Were I a Prince, I would reward him for't,
+He has rid the City of a turbulent beast,
+There's few will pity him: but for his Mother
+I truly grieve indeed, she's a good Lady. [_Exeunt_.
+
+_Enter_ Guiomar _and_ Servants.
+
+_Gui_. He's not i'th' house?
+
+_Ser. No Madam.
+
+_Gui_. Haste and seek him,
+Go all and every where, Pie not to bed
+Till you return him, take away the lights too,
+The Moon lends me too much, to find my fears
+And those devotions I am to pay
+Are written in my heart, not in this book, [_Kneel_.
+And I shall read them there without a Taper. [_Ex_. Ser.
+
+_Enter_ Rutilio.
+
+_Rut_. I am pursued; all the Ports are stopt too;
+Not any hope to escape, behind, before me,
+On either side I am beset, cursed fortune
+My enemie on the Sea, and on the Land too,
+Redeem'd from one affliction to another:
+Would I had made the greedy waves my tomb
+And dyed obscure, and innocent, not as Nero
+Smear'd o're with blood. Whither have my fears brought me?
+I am got into a house, the doors all open,
+This, by the largeness of the room, the hangings,
+And other rich adornments, glistring through
+The sable masque of night, sayes it belongs
+To one of means and rank: no servant stirring?
+Murmur nor whisper?
+
+_Guio._ Who's that?
+
+_Rut._ By the voice,
+This is a woman.
+
+_Guio._ _Stephana, Jaspe, Julia,_
+Who waits there?
+
+_Rut._ 'Tis the Lady of the house,
+I'le flie to her protection.
+
+_Guio._ Speak, what are you?
+
+_Rut._ Of all that ever breath'd, a man most wretched.
+
+_Guio._ I am sure you are a man of most ill manners,
+You could not with so little reverence else
+Press to my private chamber. Whither would you,
+Or what do you seek for?
+
+_Rut._ Gracious woman hear me;
+I am a stranger, and in that I answer
+All your demands, a most unfortunate stranger,
+That call'd unto it by my enemies pride,
+Have left him dead i'th' streets, Justice pursues me,
+And for that life I took unwillingly,
+And in a fair defence, I must lose mine,
+Unless you in your charity protect me.
+Your house is now my sanctuary, and the Altar,
+I gladly would take hold of your sweet mercy.
+By all that's dear unto you, by your vertues,
+And by your innocence, that needs no forgiveness,
+Take pity on me.
+
+_Guio._ Are you a _Castillian_?
+
+_Rut._ No Madam, _Italy_ claims my birth.
+
+_Guio._ I ask not
+With purpose to betray you, if you were
+Ten thousand times a Spaniard, the nation
+We Portugals most hate, I yet would save you
+If it lay in my power: lift up these hangings;
+Behind my Beds head there's a hollow place,
+Into which enter; so, but from this stir not
+If the Officers come, as you expect they will doe,
+I know they owe such reverence to my lodgings,
+That they will easily give credit to me
+And search no further.
+
+_Rut._ The blest Saints pay for me
+The infinite debt I owe you.
+
+_Guio._ How he quakes!
+Thus far I feel his heart beat, be of comfort,
+Once more I give my promise for your safety,
+All men are subject to such accidents,
+Especially the valiant; and who knows not,
+But that the charity I afford this stranger
+My only Son else where may stand in need of?
+
+_Enter Officers, and Servants, with the body of Duarte--Page._
+
+_1 Ser._ Now Madam, if your wisedom ever could
+Raise up defences against floods of sorrow
+That haste to overwhelm you, make true use of
+Your great discretion.
+
+_2 Ser._ Your only son
+My Lord _Duart's_ slain.
+
+_1 Off._ His murtherer, pursued by us
+Was by a boy discovered
+Entring your house, and that induced us
+To press into it for his apprehension.
+
+_Guio._ Oh!
+
+_1 Ser._ Sure her heart is broke.
+
+_Off._ Madam.
+
+_Guio._ Stand off.
+My sorrow is so dear and pretious to me,
+That you must not partake it, suffer it
+Like wounds that do breed inward to dispatch me.
+O my _Duart_, such an end as this
+Thy pride long since did prophesie; thou art dead,
+And to encrease my misery, thy sad Mother
+Must make a wilfull shipwrack of her vow
+Or thou fall unreveng'd. My Soul's divided,
+And piety to a son, and true performance
+Of hospitable duties to my guest,
+That are to others Angels, are my furies.
+Vengeance knocks at my heart, but my word given
+Denies the entrance, is no _Medium_ left,
+But that I must protect the murderer,
+Or suffer in that faith he made his altar?
+Motherly love give place, the fault made this way,
+To keep a vow, to which high Heaven is witness,
+Heaven may be pleas'd to pardon.
+
+_Enter_ Manuel, Doctors, Surgeons.
+
+_Man._ 'Tis too late,
+Hee's gone, past all recovery: now reproof
+Were but unseasonable when I should give comfort,
+And yet remember Sister.
+
+_Guio._ O forbear,
+Search for the murtherer, and remove the body,
+And as you think fit, give it burial.
+Wretch that I am, uncapable of all comfort,
+And therefore I intreat my friends and kinsfolk,
+And you my Lord, for some space to forbear
+Your courteous visitations.
+
+_Man._ We obey you. [_Exeunt omnes with the body._
+Manet Guiomar.
+
+_Rut._ My Spirits come back, and now despair resigns
+Her place again to hope.
+
+_Guio._ What ere thou art
+To whom I have given means of life, to witness
+With what Religion I have kept my promise,
+Come fearless forth, but let thy face be cover'd,
+That I hereafter be not forc't to know thee,
+For motherly affection may return
+My vow once paid to heaven. Thou hast taken from me
+The respiration of my heart, the light
+Of my swoln eyes, in his life that sustain'd me:
+Yet my word given to save you, I make good,
+Because what you did, was not done with malice,
+You are not known, there is no mark about you
+That can discover you; let not fear betray you.
+With all convenient speed you can, flie from me
+That I may never see you; and that want
+Of means may be no let unto your journie,
+There are a hundred Crownes: you are at the door now,
+And so Farewell for ever.
+
+_Rut._ Let me first fall
+Before your feet, and on them pay the duty
+I owe your goodness; next all blessings to you,
+And Heaven restore the joyes I have bereft you,
+With full increase hereafter, living be
+The Goddess stil'd of Hospitalitie.
+
+
+
+
+_Actus Tertius. Scena Prima._
+
+
+_Enter Leopold, and Zenocia._
+
+_Leo._ Fling off these sullen clouds, you are enter'd now
+Into a house of joy and happiness,
+I have prepar'd a blessing for ye.
+
+_Zen._ Thank ye, my state would rather ask a curse.
+
+_Leo._ You are peevish
+And know not when ye are friended, I have us'd those means,
+The Lady of this house, the noble Lady,
+Will take ye as her own, and use ye graciously:
+Make much of what you are, Mistris of that beautie,
+And expose it not to such betraying sorrows,
+When ye are old, and all those sweets hang wither'd,
+
+_Enter_ Servant.
+
+Then sit and sigh.
+
+_Zen._ My _Autumn_ is not far off.
+
+_Leo._ Have you told your Lady?
+
+_Ser._ Yes Sir, I have told her
+Both of your noble service, and your present,
+Which she accepts.
+
+_Leo._ I should be blest to see her.
+
+_Ser._ That now you cannot doe: she keeps the Chamber
+Not well dispos'd; and has denied all visits,
+The maid I have in charge to receive from ye,
+So please you render her.
+
+_Leo._ With all my service,
+But fain I would have seen.
+
+_Ser._ 'Tis but your patience;
+No doubt she cannot but remember nobly.
+
+_Leo._ These three years I have lov'd this scornfull Lady,
+And follow'd her with all the truth of service,
+In all which time, but twice she has honour'd me
+With sight of her blest beauty: when you please Sir,
+You may receive your charge, and tell your Lady;
+A Gentleman whose life is only dedicated
+To her commands, kisses her beauteous hands;
+And Faire-one, now your help, you may remember
+The honest courtesies, since you are mine,
+I ever did your modestie: you shall be near her,
+And if sometimes you name my service to her,
+And tell her with what nobleness I love her,
+'Twill be a gratitude I shall remember.
+
+_Zen._ What in my poor power lyes, so it be honest.
+
+_Leo._ I ask no more.
+
+_Ser._ You must along with me (Fair.)
+
+_Leo._ And so I leave you two: but a fortune
+Too happy for my fate: you shall enjoy her.
+
+
+
+
+_Scena Secunda._
+
+
+_Enter Zabulon and Servants._
+
+_Zab._ Be quick, be quick, out with the banquet there,
+These scents are dull; cast richer on, and fuller;
+Scent every place, where have you plac'd the musick?
+
+_Ser._ Here they stand ready Sir.
+
+_Zab._ 'Tis well, be sure
+The wines be lusty, high, and full of Spirit,
+And Amber'd all.
+
+_Ser._ They are.
+
+_Zab._ Give fair attendance.
+In the best trim, and state, make ready all.
+I shall come presently again. [_Banquet set forth. Exit._
+
+_2 Ser._ We shall Sir,
+What preparation's this?
+Some new device
+My Lady has in hand.
+
+_1 Ser._ O, prosper it
+As long as it carries good wine in the mouth,
+And good meat with it, where are all the rest?
+
+_2 Ser._ They are ready to attend. [_Musick._
+
+_1 Ser._ Sure some great person,
+They would not make this hurry else.
+
+_2 Ser._ Hark the Musick.
+
+_Enter_ Zabulon, _and_ Arnoldo.
+
+It will appear now certain, here it comes.
+Now to our places.
+
+_Arn._ Whither will he lead me?
+What invitation's this? to what new end
+Are these fair preparations? a rich Banquet,
+Musick, and every place stuck with adornment,
+Fit for a Princes welcome; what new game
+Has Fortune now prepar'd to shew me happy?
+And then again to sink me? 'tis no illusion,
+Mine eyes are not deceiv'd, all these are reall;
+What wealth and state!
+
+_Zab._ Will you sit down and eat Sir?
+These carry little wonder, they are usual;
+But you shall see, if you be wise to observe it,
+That that will strike dead, strike with amazement,
+Then if you be a man: this fair health to you.
+
+_Ar._ What shall I see? I pledge ye Sir, I was never
+So buried in amazement--
+
+_Zab._ You are so still:
+Drink freely.
+
+_Ar._ The very wines are admirable:
+Good Sir, give me leave to ask this question,
+For what great worthy man are these prepar'd?
+And why do you bring me hither?
+
+_Zab._ They are for you, Sir;
+And under-value not the worth you carry,
+You are that worthy man: think well of these,
+They shall be more, and greater.
+
+_Ar._ Well, blind fortune
+Thou hast the prettiest changes when thou art pleas'd,
+To play thy game out wantonly--
+
+_Zab._ Come be lusty,
+And awake your Spirits. [_Cease Musick._
+
+_Ar._ Good Sir, do not wake me.
+For willingly I would dye in this dream, pray whose Servants
+Are all these that attend here?
+
+_Zab._ They are yours;
+They wait on you.
+
+_Ar._ I never yet remember
+I kept such faces, nor that I was ever able
+To maintain so many.
+
+_Zab._ Now you are, and shall be.
+
+_Ar._ You'l say this house is mine too?
+
+_Zab._ Say it? swear it.
+
+_Ar._ And all this wealth?
+
+_Zab._ This is the least you see Sir.
+
+_Ar._ Why, where has this been hid these thirtie years?
+For certainly I never found I was wealthie
+Till this hour, never dream'd of house, and Servants.
+I had thought I had been a younger Brother, a poor Gent.
+I may eat boldly then.
+
+_Zab._ 'Tis prepar'd for ye.
+
+_Ar._ The taste is perfect, and most delicate:
+But why for me? give me some wine, I do drink;
+I feel it sensibly, and I am here,
+Here in this glorious place: I am bravely us'd too,
+Good Gentle Sir, give me leave to think a little,
+For either I am much abus'd--
+
+_Zab._ Strike Musick
+And sing that lusty Song. [_Musick. Song._
+
+_Ar._ Bewitching harmony!
+Sure I am turn'd into another Creature.
+
+_Enter_ Hippolyta.
+
+Happy and blest, _Arnoldo_ was unfortunate;
+Ha! bless mine eyes; what pretious piece of nature
+To pose the world?
+
+_Zab._ I told you, you would see that
+Would darken these poor preparations;
+What think ye now? nay rise not, 'tis no vision.
+
+_Ar._ 'Tis more: 'tis miracle.
+
+_Hip._ You are welcom Sir.
+
+_Ar._ It speaks, and entertains me still more glorious;
+She is warm, and this is flesh here: how she stirs me!
+Bless me what stars are there?
+
+_Hip._ May I sit near ye?
+
+_Ar._ No, you are too pure an object to behold,
+Too excellent to look upon, and live;
+I must remove.
+
+_Zab._ She is a woman Sir,
+Fy, what faint heart is this?
+
+_Arn._ The house of wonder.
+
+_Zab._ Do not you think your self now truly happy?
+You have the abstract of all sweetness by ye,
+The precious wealth youth labours to arrive at;
+Nor is she less in honour, than in beauty,
+_Ferrara's_ Royal Duke is proud to call her
+His best, his Noblest, and most happy Sister,
+Fortune has made her Mistress of herself,
+Wealthy, and wise, without a power to sway her,
+Wonder of _Italy_, of all hearts Mistress.
+
+_Arn._ And all this is--
+
+_Zab._ _Hippolyta_ the beauteous.
+
+_Hip._ You are a poor relator of my fortunes,
+Too weak a Chronicle to speak my blessings,
+And leave out that essential part of story
+I am most high and happy in, most fortunate,
+The acquaintance, and the noble fellowship
+Of this fair Gentleman: pray ye do not wonder,
+Nor hold it strange to hear a handsome Lady
+Speak freely to ye: with your fair leave and courtesie
+I will sit by ye.
+
+_Arn._ I know not what to answer,
+Nor where I am, nor to what end consider;
+Why do you use me thus?
+
+_Hip._ Are ye angry Sir,
+Because ye are entertain'd with all humanity?
+Freely and nobly us'd?
+
+_Arn._ No gentle Lady,
+That were uncivil, but it much amazes me
+A stranger, and a man of no desert
+Should find such floods of courtesie.
+
+_Hip._ I love ye,
+I honour ye, the first and best of all men,
+And where that fair opinion leads, 'tis usual
+These trifles that but serve to set off, follow.
+I would not have you proud now, nor disdainful
+Because I say I love ye, though I swear it,
+Nor think it a stale favour I fling on ye,
+Though ye be handsome, and the only man
+I must confess I ever fixt mine eye on,
+And bring along all promises that please us,
+Yet I should hate ye then, despise ye, scorn ye,
+And with as much contempt pursue your person,
+As now I do with love. But you are wiser,
+At least I think, more master of your fortune,
+And so I drink your health.
+
+_Arn._ Hold fast good honesty,
+I am a lost man else.
+
+_Hip._ Now you may kiss me,
+'Tis the first kiss, I ever askt, I swear to ye.
+
+_Arn._ That I dare do sweet Lady.
+
+_Hip._ You do it well too;
+You are a Master Sir, that makes you coy.
+
+_Arn._ Would you would send your people off.
+
+_Hip._ Well thought on.
+Wait all without. [_Exit_ Zab. _and Servants._
+
+_Zab._ I hope she is pleas'd throughly.
+
+_Hip._ Why stand ye still? here's no man to detect ye,
+My people are gone off: come, come, leave conjuring,
+The Spirit you would raise, is here already,
+Look boldly on me.
+
+_Arn._ What would you have me do?
+
+_Hip._ O most unmanly question! have you do?
+Is't possible your years should want a Tutor?
+I'le teach ye: come, embrace me.
+
+_Arn._ Fye stand off;
+And give me leave, more now than e're, to wonder,
+A building of so goodly a proportion,
+Outwardly all exact, the frame of Heaven,
+Should hide within so base inhabitants?
+You are as fair, as if the morning bare ye,
+Imagination never made a sweeter;
+Can it be possible this frame should suffer,
+And built on slight affections, fright the viewer?
+Be excellent in all, as you are outward,
+The worthy Mistress of those many blessings
+Heaven has bestowed, make 'em appear still nobler,
+Because they are trusted to a weaker keeper.
+Would ye have me love ye?
+
+_Hip._ Yes.
+
+_Arn._ Not for your beauty;
+Though I confess, it blowes the first fire in us,
+Time as he passes by, puts out that sparkle;
+Nor for your wealth, although the world kneel to it,
+And make it all addition to a woman,
+Fortune that ruines all, makes that his conquest;
+Be honest, and be vertuous, I'le admire ye,
+At least be wise, and where ye lay these nets,
+Strow over 'em a little modesty,
+'Twill well become your cause, and catch more Fools.
+
+_Hip._ Could any one that lov'd this wholesome counsel
+But love the giver more? you make me fonder:
+You have a vertuous mind, I want that ornament;
+Is it a sin I covet to enjoy ye?
+If ye imagine I am too free a Lover,
+And act that part belongs to you, I am silent:
+Mine eyes shall speak my blushes, parly with ye;
+I will not touch your hand, but with a tremble
+Fitting a Vestal Nun; not long to kiss ye,
+But gently as the Air, and undiscern'd too,
+I'le steal it thus: I'le walk your shadow by ye,
+So still and silent that it shall be equal,
+To put me off, as that, and when I covet,
+To give such toyes as these--
+
+_Arn._ A new temptation--
+
+_Hip._ Thus like the lazie minutes will I drop 'em,
+Which past once are forgotten.
+
+_Arn._ Excellent vice!
+
+_Hip._ Will ye be won? look stedfastly upon me,
+Look manly, take a mans affections to you;
+Young women, in the old world were not wont, Sir,
+To hang out gaudy bushes for their beauties,
+To talk themselves into young mens affections;
+How cold and dull you are!
+
+_Arn._ How I stagger!
+She is wise, as fair; but 'tis a wicked wisdom;
+I'le choak before I yield.
+
+_Hip._ Who waits within there? [Zabulon _within._
+Make ready the green Chamber.
+
+_Zab._ It shall be Madam.
+
+_Arn._ I am afraid she will injoy me indeed.
+
+_Hip._ What Musick do ye love?
+
+_Arn._ A modest tongue.
+
+_Hip._ We'l have enough of that: fye, fye, how lumpish!
+In a young Ladyes arms thus dull?
+
+_Arn._ For Heaven sake
+Profess a little goodness.
+
+_Hip._ Of what Country?
+
+_Arn._ I am of _Rome_.
+
+_Hip._ Nay then I know you mock me,
+The _Italians_ are not frighted with such bug-bears,
+Prethee go in.
+
+_Arn._ I am not well.
+
+_Hip._ I'le make thee,
+I'le kiss thee well.
+
+_Arn._ I am not sick of that sore.
+
+_Hip._ Upon my Conscience, I must ravish thee,
+I shall be famous for the first example:
+With this I'le tye ye first, then try your strength Sir.
+
+_Arn._ My strength? away base woman, I abhor thee.
+I am not caught with stales, disease dwell with thee. [_Exit._
+
+_Hip._ Are ye so quick? and have I lost my wishes?
+Hoe, _Zabulon_; my servants.
+
+_Enter_ Zabulon _and_ Servants.
+
+_Zab._ Call'd ye Madam?
+
+_Hip._ Is all that beauty scorned, so many su'd for;
+So many Princes? by a stranger too?
+Must I endure this?
+
+_Zab._ Where's the Gentleman?
+
+_Hip._ Go presently, pursue the stranger, _Zabulon_.
+He has broke from me, Jewels I have given him:
+Charge him with theft: he has stoln my love, my freedome,
+Draw him before the Governour, imprison him,
+Why dost thou stay?
+
+_Zab._ I'le teach him a new dance,
+For playing fast and loose with such a Lady.
+Come fellows, come: I'le execute your anger,
+And to the full.
+
+_Hip._ His scorn shall feel my vengeance.-- [_Exeunt._
+
+
+
+
+_Scena Tertia._
+
+
+_Enter_ Sulpicia _and_ Jaques.
+
+_Sul._ Shall I never see a lusty man again?
+
+_Ja._ Faith Mistress
+You do so over-labour 'em when you have 'em,
+And so dry-founder 'em, they cannot last.
+
+_Sul._ Where's the _French_-man?
+
+_Ja._ Alas, he's all to fitters,
+and lyes, taking the height of his fortune with a Syringe.
+He's chin'd, he's chin'd good man, he is a mourner.
+
+_Sul._ What's become of the _Dane_?
+
+_Ja._ Who? goldy-locks?
+He's foul i'th' touch-hole; and recoils again,
+The main Spring's weaken'd that holds up his cock,
+He lies at the sign of the _Sun_, to be new breech'd.
+
+_Sul._ The Rutter too, is gone.
+
+_Ja._ O that was a brave Rascal,
+He would labour like a Thrasher: but alas
+What thing can ever last? he has been ill mew'd,
+And drawn too soon; I have seen him in the Hospital.
+
+_Sul._ There was an _English_-man.
+
+_Ja._ I there was an _English_-man;
+You'l scant find any now, to make that name good:
+There were those _English_ that were men indeed,
+And would perform like men, but now they are vanisht:
+They are so taken up in their own Country,
+And so beaten of their speed by their own women,
+When they come here, they draw their legs like Hackneys:
+Drink, and their own devices have undone 'em.
+
+_Sul._ I must have one that's strong, no life in _Lisbon_ else,
+Perfect and young: my Custom with young Ladies,
+And high fed City dames, will fall, and break else.
+I want my self too, in mine age to nourish me:
+They are all sunk I mantain'd: now what's this business,
+What goodly fellow's that?
+
+_Enter_ Rutilio _and_ Officers.
+
+_Rut._ Why do you drag me?
+Pox o' your justice; let me loose.
+
+_1 Offi._ Not so Sir.
+
+_Rut._ Cannot a man fall into one of your drunken Cellars,
+And venture the breaking on's neck, your trap-doors open,
+But he must be us'd thus rascally?
+
+_1 Offi._ What made you wandring
+So late i'th' night? you know that is imprisonment.
+
+_Rut._ May be I walk in my sleep.
+
+_2 Offi._ May be we'l walk ye.
+What made you wandring Sir, into that vault
+Where all the City store, and the Munition lay?
+
+_Rut._ I fell into it by chance, I broke my shins for't:
+Your worships feel not that: I knockt my head
+Against a hundred posts, would you had had it.
+Cannot I break my neck in my own defence?
+
+_2 Offi._ This will not serve: you cannot put it off so,
+Your coming thither was to play the villain,
+To fire the Powder, to blow up that part o'th' City.
+
+_Rut._ Yes, with my nose: why were the trap-doors open?
+Might not you fall, or you, had you gone that way?
+I thought your City had sunk.
+
+_1 Offi._ You did your best Sir,
+We must presume, to help it into th' Air,
+If you call that sinking: we have told you what's the law,
+He that is taken there, unless a Magistrate,
+And have command in that place, presently
+If there be nothing found apparent near him
+Worthy his torture, or his present death,
+Must either pay his fine for his presumption,
+(Which is six hundred Duckets) or for six years
+Tug at an Oar i'th' Gallies: will ye walk Sir,
+For we presume you cannot pay the penalty.
+
+_Rut._ Row in the Gallies, after all this mischief?
+
+_2 Offi._ May be you were drunk, they'l keep you sober there.
+
+_Rut._ Tug at an Oar? you are not arrant rascals,
+To catch me in a pit-fall, and betray me?
+
+_Sul._ A lusty minded man.
+
+_Ja._ A wondrous able.
+
+_Sul._ Pray Gentlemen, allow me but that liberty
+To speak a few words with your prisoner,
+And I shall thank you.
+
+_1 Offi._ Take your pleasure Lady.
+
+_Sul._ What would you give that woman should redeem ye,
+Redeem ye from this slavery?
+
+_Rut._ Besides my service
+I would give her my whole self, I would be her vassal.
+
+_Sul._ She has reason to expect as much, considering
+The great sum she pays for't, yet take comfort,
+What ye shall do to merit this, is easie,
+And I will be the woman shall befriend ye,
+'Tis but to entertain some handsome Ladies,
+And young fair Gentlewomen: you guess the way:
+But giving of your mind--
+
+_Rut._ I am excellent at it:
+You cannot pick out such another living.
+I understand ye: is't not thus?
+
+_Sul._ Ye have it.
+
+_Rut._ Bring me a hundred of 'em: I'le dispatch 'em.
+I will be none but yours: should another offer
+Another way to redeem me, I should scorn it.
+What women you shall please: I am monstrous lusty:
+Not to be taken down: would you have Children?
+I'le get you those as fast, and thick as flie-blows.
+
+_Sul._ I admire him: wonder at him!
+
+_Rut._ Hark ye Lady,
+You may require sometimes--
+
+_Sul._ I by my faith.
+
+_Rut._ And you shall have it by my faith, and handsomly:
+This old Cat will suck shrewdly: you have no Daughters?
+I flye at all: now am I in my Kingdom.
+Tug at an Oar? no, tug in a Feather-bed,
+With good warm Caudles; hang your bread and water,
+I'le make you young again, believe that Lady.
+I will so frubbish you.
+
+_Sul._ Come, follow Officers,
+This Gentleman is free: I'le pay the Duckets.
+
+_Rut._ And when you catch me in your City-powdring-tub
+Again, boil me with Cabbidge.
+
+_1 Offi._ You are both warn'd and arm'd Sir. [_Exeunt._
+
+
+
+
+_Scena Quarta._
+
+
+_Enter_ Leopold, Hippolyta, Zenocia.
+
+_Zen._ Will your Ladyship wear this Dressing?
+
+_Hip._ Leave thy prating:
+I care not what I wear.
+
+_Zen._ Yet 'tis my duty
+To know your pleasure, and my worst affliction
+To see you discontented.
+
+_Hip._ Weeping too?
+Prethee forgive me: I am much distemper'd,
+And speak I know not what: to make thee amends
+The Gown that I wore yesterday, is thine;
+Let it alone awhile.
+
+_Leo._ Now you perceive,
+And taste her bounty.
+
+_Zen._ Much above my merit.
+
+_Leo._ But have you not yet found a happy time
+To move for me.
+
+_Zen._ I have watched all occasions,
+But hitherto, without success: yet doubt not
+But I'le embrace the first means.
+
+_Leo._ Do, and prosper:
+Excellent creature, whose perfections make
+Even sorrow lovely, if your frowns thus take me,
+What would your smiles doe?
+
+_Hip._ Pox o' this stale Courtship:
+If I have any power.
+
+_Leo._ I am commanded,
+Obedience is the Lovers sacrifice
+Which I pay gladly.
+
+_Hip._ To be forc'd to wooe,
+Being a woman, could not but torment me,
+But bringing for my advocates, youth and beauty,
+Set off with wealth, and then to be deni'd too
+Do's comprehend all tortures. They flatter'd me,
+That said my looks were charms, my touches fetters,
+My locks soft chains, to bind the arms of Princes,
+And make them in that wish'd for bondage, happy.
+I am like others of a coarser feature,
+As weak to allure, but in my dotage, stronger:
+I am no _Circe_; he, more than _Ulysses_,
+Scorns all my offer'd bounties, slights my favours,
+And, as I were some new Egyptian, flyes me,
+Leaving no pawn, but my own shame behind him.
+But he shall finde, that in my fell revenge,
+I am a woman: one that never pardons
+The rude contemner of her proffered sweetness.
+
+_Enter_ Zabulon.
+
+_Zab._ Madam, 'tis done.
+
+_Hip._ What's done?
+
+_Zab._ The uncivill stranger
+Is at your suite arrested.
+
+_Hip._ 'Tis well handled.
+
+_Zab._ And under guard sent to the Governour,
+With whom my testimony, and the favour
+He bears your Ladiship, have so prevail'd
+That he is sentenc'd.
+
+_Hip._ How?
+
+_Zab._ To lose his head.
+
+_Hip._ Is that the means to quench the scorching heat
+Of my inrag'd desires? must innocence suffer,
+'Cause I am faulty? or is my Love so fatall
+That of necessity it must destroy
+The object it most longs for? dull _Hippolyta_,
+To think that injuries could make way for love,
+When courtesies were despis'd: that by his death
+Thou shouldst gain that, which only thou canst hope for
+While he is living: My honour's at the stake now,
+And cannot be preserv'd, unless he perish,
+The enjoying of the thing I love, I ever
+Have priz'd above my fame: why doubt I now then?
+One only way is left me, to redeem all:
+Make ready my Caroch.
+
+_Leo._ What will you Madam?
+
+_Hip._ And yet I am impatient of such stay:
+Bind up my hair: fye, fye, while that is doing
+The Law may seise his life: thus as I am then,
+Not like _Hippolyta_, but a _Bacchanal_
+My frantique Love transports me. [_Exit._
+
+_Leo._ Sure she's distracted.
+
+_Zab._ Pray you follow her: I will along with you:
+I more than ghess the cause: women that love
+Are most uncertain, and one minute crave,
+What in another they refuse to have. [_Exit._
+
+
+
+
+_Scena Quinta._
+
+
+_Enter_ Clodio, Charino.
+
+_Clo._ Assure thy self _Charino_, I am alter'd
+From what I was; the tempests we have met with
+In our uncertain voyage, were smooth gales
+Compar'd to those, the memory of my lusts
+Rais'd in my Conscience: and if ere again
+I live to see _Zenocia_, I will sue,
+And seek to her as a Lover, and a Servant,
+And not command affection, like a Tyrant.
+
+_Char._ In hearing this, you make me young again,
+And Heaven, it seems, favouring this good change in you
+In setting of a period to our dangers
+Gives us fair hopes to find that here in _Lisbon_
+Which hitherto in vain we long have sought for.
+I have receiv'd assur'd intelligence,
+Such strangers have been seen here: and though yet
+I cannot learn their fortunes, nor the place
+Of their abode, I have a Soul presages
+A fortunate event here.
+
+_Clo._ There have pass'd
+A mutual enterchange of courtesies
+Between me, and the Governour; therefore boldly
+We may presume of him, and of his power
+If we finde cause to use them, otherwise
+I would not be known here, and these disguises
+Will keep us from discovery.
+
+_Enter_ Manuel, Doctor, Arnoldo, Guard.
+
+_Char._ What are these?
+
+_Clo._ The Governour: with him my Rival, bound.
+
+_Char._ For certain 'tis _Arnoldo_.
+
+_Clo._ Let's attend
+What the success will be.
+
+_Mar._ Is't possible
+There should be hope of his recovery,
+His wounds so many and so deadly?
+
+_Doct._ So they appear'd at first, but the blood stop'd,
+His trance forsook him, and on better search
+We found they were not mortal.
+
+_Man._ Use all care
+To perfect this unhop'd for cure: that done
+Propose your own rewards: and till you shall
+Hear farther from me, for some ends I have,
+Conceal it from his Mother.
+
+_Doct._ Wee'l not fail Sir. [_Exit._
+
+_Man._ You still stand confident on your innocence.
+
+_Arn._ It is my best and last guard, which I will not
+Leave, to relye on your uncertain mercy.
+
+_Enter_ Hippolyta, Zabulon, Leopold, Zenocia, 2 Servants.
+
+_Hip._ Who bad you follow me! Goe home, and you Sir,
+As you respect me, goe with her.
+
+_Arn._ _Zenocia_!
+And in her house a Servant!
+
+_Char._ 'Tis my Daughter.
+
+_Clo._ My love? Contain your joy, observe the sequel. [_Zen. passes._
+
+_Man._ Fye Madam, how undecent 'tis for you,
+So far unlike your self to bee seen thus
+In th' open streets? why do you kneel? pray you rise,
+I am acquainted with the wrong, and loss
+You have sustain'd, and the Delinquent now
+Stands ready for his punishment.
+
+_Hip._ Let it fall, Sir,
+On the offender: he is innocent,
+And most unworthy of these bonds he wears,
+But I made up of guilt.
+
+_Man._ What strange turn's this?
+
+_Leo._ This was my prisoner once.
+
+_Hip._ If chastity
+In a young man, and tempted to the height too
+Did ere deserve reward, or admiration,
+He justly may claim both. Love to his person
+(Or if you please give it a fouler name)
+Compel'd me first to train him to my house,
+All engines I rais'd there to shake his vertue,
+Which in the assault were useless; he unmov'd still
+As if he had no part of humane frailty.
+Against the nature of my Sex, almost
+I plaid the Ravisher. You might have seen
+In our contention, young _Apollo_ fly
+And love-sick _Daphne_ follow, all arts failing,
+By flight he wan the victory, breaking from
+My scorn'd embraces: the repulse (in women
+Unsufferable) invited me to practise
+A means to be reveng'd: and from this grew
+His Accusation, and the abuse
+Of your still equall justice: My rage ever
+Thanks heaven, though wanton, I found not my self
+So far engag'd to Hell, to prosecute
+To the death what I had plotted, for that love
+That made me first desire him, then accuse him,
+Commands me with the hazard of my self
+First to entreat his pardon, then acquit him.
+
+_Man._ What ere you are, so much I love your vertue,
+That I desire your friendship: do you unloose him
+From those bonds, you are worthy of: your repentance
+Makes part of satisfaction; yet I must
+Severely reprehend you.
+
+_Leo._ I am made
+A stale on all parts: But this fellow shall
+Pay dearly for her favour.
+
+_Arn._ My life's so full
+Of various changes, that I now despair
+Of any certain port; one trouble ending,
+A new, and worse succeeds it: what should _Zenocia_
+Do in this womans house? Can chastity
+And hot Lust dwell together without infection?
+I would not be or jealous, or secure,
+Yet something must be done, to sound the depth on't:
+That she lives is my bliss, but living there,
+A hell of torments; there's no way to her
+In whom I live, but by this door, through which
+To me 'tis death to enter, yet I must,
+And will make tryal.
+
+_Man._ Let me hear no more
+Of these devices, Lady: this I pardon,
+And at your intercession I forgive
+Your instrument the Jew too: get you home.
+The hundred thousand crowns you lent the City
+Towards the setting forth of the last Navy
+Bound for the Islands, was a good then, which
+I ballance with your ill now.
+
+_Char._ Now Sir, to him,
+You know my Daughter needs it.
+
+_Hip._ Let me take
+A farewell with mine eye, Sir, though my lip
+Be barr'd the Ceremonie, courtesie
+And Custom too allows of.
+
+_Arn._ Gentle Madam,
+I neither am so cold, nor so ill bred
+But that I dare receive it: you are unguarded,
+And let me tell you that I am asham'd
+Of my late rudeness, and would gladly therefore
+If you please to accept my ready service
+Wait on you to your house.
+
+_Hip._ Above my hope:
+Sir, if an Angel were to be my convoy,
+He should not be more welcom.-- [_Ex._ Arn. _and_ Hip.
+
+_Clo._ Now you know me.
+
+_Man._ Yes Sir, and honour you: ever remembring
+Your many bounties, being ambitious only
+To give you cause to say by some one service
+That I am not ungratefull.
+
+_Clod._ 'Tis now offer'd:
+I have a suit to you, and an easie one,
+Which e're long you shall know.
+
+_Man._ When you think fit Sir,
+And then as a command I will receive it,
+Till when, most welcom: you are welcom too Sir,
+'Tis spoken from the heart, and therefore needs not
+Much protestation: at your better leisure
+I will enquire the cause that brought you hither:
+In the mean time serve you.
+
+_Clod._ You out-doe me Sir. [_Exeunt._
+
+
+
+
+_Actus Quartus. Scena Prima._
+
+
+_Enter_ Duarte, Doctor.
+
+_Dua._ You have bestow'd on me a second life,
+For which I live your creature, and have better'd
+What nature fram'd unperfect, my first being
+Insolent pride made monstrous; but this later
+In learning me to know my self, hath taught me
+Not to wrong others.
+
+_Doct._ Then we live indeed,
+When we can goe to rest without alarm
+Given every minute to a guilt-sick conscience
+To keep us waking, and rise in the morning
+Secure in being innocent: but when
+In the remembrance of our worser actions
+We ever bear about us whips and furies,
+To make the day a night of sorrow to us,
+Even life's a burthen.
+
+_Dua._ I have found and felt it;
+But will endeavour having first made peace
+With those intestine enemies my rude passions,
+To be so with man-kind: but worthy Doctor,
+Pray if you can resolve me; was the Gentleman
+That left me dead, ere brought unto his tryal?
+
+_Doct._ Not known, nor apprehended.
+
+_Dua._ That's my grief.
+
+_Doct._ Why, do you wish he had been punished?
+
+_Dua._ No,
+The stream of my swoln sorrow runs not that way:
+For could I find him, as I vow to Heaven
+It shall be my first care to seek him out,
+I would with thanks acknowledge that his sword,
+In opening my veins, which proud bloud poison'd,
+Gave the first symptoms of true health.
+
+_Doct._ 'Tis in you
+A Christian resolution: that you live
+Is by the Governours, your Uncles charge
+As yet conceal'd. And though a sons loss never
+Was solemniz'd with more tears of true sorrow
+Than have been paid by your unequal'd Mother
+For your supposed death, she's not acquainted
+With your recovery.
+
+_Dua._ For some few dayes
+Pray let her so continue: thus disguis'd
+I may abroad unknown.
+
+_Doct._ Without suspicion
+Of being discovered.
+
+_Dua._ I am confident
+No moisture sooner dies than womens tears,
+And therefore though I know my Mother vertuous,
+Yet being one of that frail sex I purpose
+Her farther tryal.
+
+_Doct._ That as you think fit--I'le not betray you.
+
+_Dua._ To find out this stranger
+This true Physician of my mind and manners
+Were such a blessing. He seem'd poor, and may
+Perhaps be now in want; would I could find him.
+The Innes I'le search first, then the publick Stewes;
+He was of _Italy_, and that Country breeds not
+Precisians that way, but hot Libertines;
+And such the most are: 'tis but a little travail:
+I am unfurnisht too, pray Mr. Doctor,
+Can you supply me?
+
+_Doct._ With what summ you please.
+
+_Dua._ I will not be long absent.
+
+_Doct._ That I wish too;
+For till you have more strength, I would not have you
+To be too bold.
+
+_Dua._ Fear not, I will be carefull. [_Exeunt._
+
+_Enter_ Leopold, Zabulon, Bravo.
+
+_Zab._ I have brought him Sir, a fellow that will do it
+Though Hell stood in his way, ever provided
+You pay him for't.
+
+_Leop._ He has a strange aspect,
+And looks much like the figure of a hang-man
+In a table of the Passion.
+
+_Zab._ He transcends
+All precedents, believe it, a flesh'd ruffian,
+That hath so often taken the Strappado,
+That 'tis to him but as a lofty trick
+Is to a tumbler: he hath perused too
+All Dungeons in _Portu[g]al_, thrice seven years
+Rowed in the Galleys for three several murthers,
+Though I presume that he has done a hundred,
+And scap't unpunisht.
+
+_Leop._ He is much in debt to you,
+You set him off so well. What will you take Sir
+To beat a fellow for me, that thus wrong'd me?
+
+_Bra._ To beat him say you?
+
+_Leop._ Yes, beat him to lameness,
+To cut his lips or nose off; any thing,
+That may disfigure him.
+
+_Bra._ Let me consider?
+Five hundred pistolets for such a service
+I think were no dear penniworth.
+
+_Zab._ Five hundred!
+Why there are of your Brother-hood in the City,
+I'le undertake, shall kill a man for twenty.
+
+_Bra._ Kill him? I think so; I'le kill any man
+For half the mony.
+
+_Leop._ And will you ask more
+For a sound beating than a murther?
+
+_Bra._ I Sir,
+And with good reason, for a dog that's dead,
+The Spanish proverb says, will never bite:
+But should I beat or hurt him only, he may
+Recover, and kill me.
+
+_Leo._ A good conclusion,
+The obduracie of this rascal makes me tender.
+I'le run some other course, there's your reward
+Without the employment.
+
+_Bra._ For that as you please Sir;
+When you have need to kill a man, pray use me,
+But I am out at beating. [_Exit._
+
+_Zab._ What's to be done then?
+
+_Leop._ I'le tell thee _Zabulon_, and make thee privy
+To my most near designs: this stranger, which
+_Hippolyta_ so dotes on, was my prisoner
+When the last Virgin, I bestowed upon her,
+Was made my prize; how he escaped, hereafter
+I'le let thee know; and it may be the love
+He bears the servant, makes him scorn the Mistris.
+
+_Zab._ 'Tis not unlike; for the first time he saw her
+His looks exprest so much, and for more proof
+Since he came to my Ladys house, though yet
+He never knew her, he hath practis'd with me
+To help him to a conference, without
+The knowledge of _Hippolyta_; which I promis'd.
+
+_Leop._ And by all means perform it for their meeting,
+But work it so, that my disdainful Mistris
+(Whom, notwithstanding all her injuries,
+'Tis my hard fate to love) may see and hear them.
+
+_Zab._ To what end Sir?
+
+_Leop._ This _Zabulon_: when she sees
+Who is her rival, and her Lovers baseness
+To leave a Princess for her bondwoman,
+The sight will make her scorn, what now she dotes on,
+I'le double thy reward.
+
+_Zab._ You are like to speed then:
+For I confess what you will soon believe,
+We serve them best that are most apt to give,
+For you, I'le place you where you shall see all, and yet be unobserv'd.
+
+_Leop._ That I desire too. [_Exeunt._
+
+_Enter_ Arnoldo.
+
+_Arn._ I cannot see her yet, how it afflicts me
+The poyson of this place should mix it self
+With her pure thoughts? 'Twas she that was commanded,
+Or my eyes failed me grosly; that youth, that face
+And all that noble sweetness. May she not live here,
+And yet be honest still?
+
+_Enter_ Zenocia.
+
+_Zen._ It is _Arnoldo_,
+From all his dangers free; fortune I bless thee.
+My noble husband! how my joy swells in me,
+But why in this place? what business hath he here?
+He cannot hear of me, I am not known here.
+I left him vertuous; how I shake to think now!
+And how that joy I had, cools, and forsakes me!
+
+_Enter above_ Hippolyta _and_ Zabulon.
+
+This Lady is but fair, I have been thought so
+Without compare admired; She has bewitched him
+And he forgot--
+
+_Arn._ 'Tis she again, the same--the same _Zenocia_.
+
+_Zab._ There they are together.--Now you may mark.
+
+_Hip._ Peace, let 'em parly.
+
+_Arn._ That you are well _Zenocia_, and once more
+Bless my despairing eyes, with your wisht presence,
+I thank the gods; but that I meet you here--
+
+_Hip._ They are acquainted.
+
+_Zab._ I found that secret Madam,
+When you co[m]manded her go home: pray hear 'em.
+
+_Zen._ That you meet me here, ne're blush at that _Arnoldo_.
+Your coming comes too late: I am a woman,
+And one woman with another may be trusted;
+Do you fear the house?
+
+_Arn._ More than a fear, I know it,
+Know it not good, not honest.
+
+_Zen._ What do you here then?
+I'th' name of vertue why do you approach it?
+Will you confess the doubt and yet pursue it?
+Where have your eyes been wandring, my _Arnoldo_?
+What constancy, what faith do you call this? Fie,
+Aim at one wanton mark, and wound another?
+I do confess, the Lady fair, most beauteous,
+And able to betray a strong mans liberty,
+ [Leopold _places himself unseen below._
+But you that have a love, a wife--you do well
+To deal thus wisely with me: yet _Arnoldo_,
+Since you are pleas'd to study a new beauty,
+And think this old and ill, beaten with misery,
+Study a nobler way for shame to love me,
+Wrong not her honesty.
+
+_Arn._ You have confirm'd me.
+
+_Zen._ Who though she be your wife, will never hinder you,
+So much I rest a servant to your wishes,
+And love your Loves, though they be my destructions,
+No man shall know me, nor the share I have in thee,
+No eye suspect I am able to prevent you,
+For since I am a slave to this great Lady,
+Whom I perceive you follow,
+
+_Arn._ Be not blinded.
+
+_Zen._ Fortune shall make me useful to your service,
+I will speak for you.
+
+_Arn._ Speak for me? you wrong me.
+
+_Zen._ I will endeavour all the wayes I am able
+To make her think well of you; will that please?
+To make her dote upon you, dote to madness,
+So far against my self I will obey you.
+But when that's done, and I have shewed this duty,
+This great obedience, few will buy it at my price,
+Thus will I shake hands with you, wish you well,
+But never see you more, nor receive comfort
+From any thing, _Arnoldo_.
+
+_Arn._ You are too tender;
+I neither doubt you, nor desire longer
+To be a man, and live, than I am honest
+And only yours; our infinite affections
+Abus'd us both.
+
+_Zab._ Where are your favours now?
+The courtesies you shew'd this stranger, Madam?
+
+_Hip._ Have I now found the cause?
+
+_Zab._ Attend it further.
+
+_Zen._ Did she invite you, do you say?
+
+_Arn._ Most cunningly,
+And with a preparation of that state
+I was brought in and welcom'd.
+
+_Zen._ Seem'd to love you?
+
+_Arn._ Most infinitely, at first sight, most dotingly.
+
+_Zen._ She is a goodly Lady.
+
+_Arn._ Wondrous handsom:
+At first view, being taken unprepar'd,
+Your memory not present then to assist me,
+She seem'd so glorious sweet, and so far stir'd me,
+Nay be not jealous, there's no harm done.
+
+_Zen._ Prethee--didst thou not kiss, _Arnoldo_?
+
+_Arn._ Yes faith did I.
+
+_Zen._ And then--
+
+_Arn._ I durst not, did not--
+
+_Zen._ I forgive you,
+Come tell the truth.
+
+_Arn._ May be I lay with her.
+
+_Hip._ He mocks me too, most basely.
+
+_Zen._ Did ye faith? did ye forget so far?
+
+_Arn._ Come, come, no weeping;
+I would have lyen first in my grave, believe that.
+Why will you ask those things you would not hear?
+She is too untemperate to betray my vertues,
+Too openly lascivious: had she dealt
+But with that seeming modesty she might,
+And flung a little Art upon her ardor,
+But 'twas forgot, and I forgot to like her,
+And glad I was deceiv'd. No my _Zenocia_,
+My first love here begun, rests here unreapt yet,
+And here for ever.
+
+_Zen._ You have made me happy,
+Even in the midst of bondage blest.
+
+_Zab._ You see now
+What rubs are in your way.
+
+_Hip._ And quickly _Zabulon_
+I'le root 'em out.--Be sure you do this presently.
+
+_Zab._ Do not you alter then.
+
+_Hip._ I am resolute. [_Exit Zabulon._
+
+_Arn._ To see you only I came hither last,
+Drawn by no love of hers, nor base allurements,
+For by this holy light I hate her heartily.
+
+_Leop._ I am glad of that, you have sav'd me so much vengeance
+And so much fear,
+From this hour fair befal you.
+
+_Arn._ Some means I shall make shortly to redeem you,
+Till when, observe her well, and fit her temper,
+Only her lust contemn.
+
+_Zen._ When shall I see you?
+
+_Arn._ I will live hereabouts, and bear her fair still,
+Till I can find a fit hour to redeem you.
+
+_Hip._ Shut all the doors.
+
+_Arn._ Who's that?
+
+_Zen._ We are betray'd,
+The Lady of the house has heard our parly,
+Seen us, and seen our Loves.
+
+_Hip._ You courteous Gallant,
+You that scorn all I can bestow, that laugh at
+The afflictions, and the groans I suffer for you,
+That slight and jeer my love, contemn the fortune
+My favours can fling on you, have I caught you?
+Have I now found the cause? ye fool my wishes;
+Is mine own slave, my bane? I nourish that
+That sucks up my content. I'le pray no more,
+Nor wooe no more; thou shalt see foolish man,
+And to thy bitter pain and anguish, look on
+The vengeance I shall take, provok'd and slighted;
+Redeem her then, and steal her hence: ho _Zabulon_
+Now to your work.
+
+_Enter_ Zabulon, _and_ Servants, _some holding_ Arnoldo,
+_some ready with a cord to strangle_ Zenocia.
+
+_Arn._ Lady, but hear me speak first,
+As you have pity.
+
+_Hip._ I have none. You taught me,
+When I even hung about your neck, you scorn'd me.
+
+_Zab._ Shall we pluck yet?
+
+_Hip._ No, hold a little _Zabulon_,
+I'le pluck his heart-strings first: now am I worthy
+A little of your love?
+
+_Arn._ I'le be your Servant,
+Command me through what danger you shall aime at,
+Let it be death.
+
+_Hip._ Be sure Sir, I shall fit you.
+
+_Arn._ But spare this Virgin.
+
+_Hip._ I would spare that villain first,
+Had cut my Fathers throat.
+
+_Arn._ Bounteous Lady,
+If in your sex there be that noble softness,
+That tenderness of heart, women are crown'd for--
+
+_Zen._ Kneel not _Arnoldo_, doe her not that honour,
+She is not worthy such submission,
+I scorn a life depends upon her pity.
+Proud woman do thy worst, and arm thy anger
+With thoughts as black as Hell, as hot and bloody,
+I bring a patience here, shall make 'em blush,
+An innocence, shall outlook thee, and death too.
+
+_Arn._ Make me your slave, I give my freedom to ye,
+For ever to be fetter'd to your service;
+'Twas I offended, be not so unjust then,
+To strike the innocent, this gentle maid
+Never intended fear and doubt against you:
+She is your Servant, pay not her observance
+With cruel looks, her duteous faith with death.
+
+_Hip._ Am I fair now? now am I worth your liking?
+
+_Zen._ Not fair, not to be liked, thou glorious Devil,
+Thou vernisht piece of lust, thou painted fury.
+
+_Arn._ Speak gently sweet, speak gently.
+
+_Zen._ I'le speak nobly.
+'Tis not the saving of a life I aim at,
+Mark me lascivious woman, mark me truly,
+And then consider, how I weigh thy anger.
+Life is no longer mine, nor dear unto me,
+Than usefull to his honour I preserve it.
+If thou hadst studied all the courtesies
+Humanity and noble blood are linkt to,
+Thou couldst not have propounded such a benefit,
+Nor heapt upon me such unlookt for honour
+As dying for his sake, to be his Martyr,
+'Tis such a grace.
+
+_Hip._ You shall not want that favour,
+Let your bones work miracles.
+
+_Arn._ Dear Lady
+By those fair eyes--
+
+_Hip._ There is but this way left ye
+To save her life.--
+
+_Arn._ Speak it, and I embrace it.
+
+_Hip._ Come to my private chamber presently,
+And there, what love and I command--
+
+_Arn._ I'le doe it,
+Be comforted _Zenocia_.
+
+_Zen._ Do not do this
+To save me, do not lose your self I charge you,
+I charge you by your love, that love [you] bear me;
+That love, that constant love you have twin'd to me,
+By all your promises, take heed you keep 'em,
+Now is your constant tryal. If thou dost this,
+Or mov'st one foot, to guide thee to her lust,
+My curses and eternal hate pursue thee.
+Redeem me at the base price of dis-loyalty?
+Must my undoubted honesty be thy Bawd too?
+Go and intwine thy self about that body;
+Tell her, for my life thou hast lost thine honour,
+Pull'd all thy vows from heaven, basely, most basely
+Stoop'd to the servile flames of that foul woman,
+To add an hour to me that hate thee for it,
+Know thee not again, nor name thee for a Husband.
+
+_Arn._ What shall I do to save her?
+
+_Hip._ How now, what hast there?
+
+_Enter a_ Servant.
+
+_Ser._ The Governour, attended with some Gentlemen,
+Are newly entred, to speak with your Ladiship.
+
+_Hip._ Pox o' their business, reprieve her for this hour,
+I shall have other time.
+
+_Arn._ Now fortune help us.
+
+_Hip._ I'le meet 'em presently: retire awhile all. [_Exeunt._
+
+_Zab._ You rise to day upon your right side Lady;
+You know the danger too, and may prevent it,
+And if you suffer her to perish thus,
+As she must do, and suddenly, believe it,
+Unless you stand her friend; you know the way on't,
+I guess you poorly love her, less your fortune.
+Let her know nothing, and perform this matter,
+There are hours ordained for several businesses,
+You understand.
+
+_Arn._ I understand you Bawd Sir,
+And such a Counsellour I never car'd for.
+
+_Enter the_ Governour, Clodio, Leopold, Charino _and_
+Attendants _at one door_, Hippolyta _at the other._
+
+_Hip._ Your Lordship does me honour.
+
+_Gover._ Fair _Hippolyta_,
+I am come to ease you of a charge.
+
+_Hip._ I keep none
+I count a burthen Sir: and yet I lye too.
+
+_Gover._ Which is the Maid; is she here?
+
+_Clod._ Yes Sir,
+This is she, this is _Zenocia_,
+The very same I sued to your Lordship for.
+
+_Zen._ _Clodio_ again? more misery? more ruin?
+Under what angry star is my life govern'd?
+
+_Gov._ Come hither Maid, you are once more a free woman,
+Here I discharge your bonds.
+
+_Arn._ Another smile,
+Another trick of fortune to betray us!
+
+_Hip._ Why does your Lordship use me so unnobly?
+Against my will to take away my bond-woman?
+
+_Gov._ She was no lawful prize, therefore no bond-woman:
+She's of that Country we hold friendship with,
+And ever did, and therefore to be used
+With entertainment, fair and courteous.
+The breach of League in us gives foul example,
+Therefore you must be pleas'd to think this honest;
+Did you know what she was?
+
+_Leop._ Not till this instant;
+For had I known her, she had been no prisoner.
+
+_Gov._ There, take the Maid, she is at her own dispose now,
+And if there be ought else to do your honour
+Any poor service in--
+
+_Clod._ I am vowed your servant.
+
+_Arn._ Your Father's here too, that's our only comfort,
+And in a Country now, we stand free people,
+Where _Clodio_ has no power, be comforted.
+
+_Zen._ I fear some trick yet.
+
+_Arn._ Be not so dejected.
+
+_Gover._ You must not be displeas'd; so farewel Lady.
+Come Gentlemen; Captain, you must with me too,
+I have a little business.
+
+_Leop._ I attend your Lordship:
+Now my way's free, and my hope's Lord again.
+ [_Exeunt all but_ Hip. _and_ Zab.
+
+_Hip._ D'ye jeer me now ye are going?
+I may live yet--to make you howl both.
+
+_Zab._ You might have done; you had power then,
+But now the chains are off, the command lost,
+And such a story they will make of this
+To laugh out lazie time.
+
+_Hip._ No means yet left me?
+For now I burst with anger: none to satisfie me?
+No comfort? no revenge?
+
+_Zab._ You speak too late;
+You might have had all these, your useful servants,
+Had you been wise, and suddain: what power, or will
+Over her beauty, have you now? by violence
+To constrain his love; she is as free as you are,
+And no law can impeach her liberty,
+And whilst she is so, _Arnoldo_ will despise you.
+
+_Hip._ Either my love or anger must be satisfied,
+Or I must dye.
+
+_Zab._ I have a way wou'd do it,
+Wou'd do it yet, protect me from the Law.
+
+_Hip._ From any thing; thou knowest what power I have,
+What mony, and what friends.
+
+_Zab._ 'Tis a devilish one:
+But such must now be us'd: walk in, I'le tell you;
+And if you like it, if the Devil can do any thing--
+
+_Hip._ Devil, or what thou wilt, so I be satisfied. [_Ex._
+
+_Enter_ Sulpitia, _and_ Jaques.
+
+_Sulp._ This is the rarest and the lustiest fellow,
+And so bestirs himself--
+
+_Jaq._ Give him breath Mistress,
+You'l melt him else.
+
+_Sulp._ He does perform such wonders--
+The women are mad on him.
+
+_Jaq._ Give him breath I say;
+The man is but a man, he must have breath.
+
+_Sulp._ How many had he yesterday?
+And they paid bravely too.
+
+_Jaq._ About fourteen,
+But still I cry give breath, spare him and have him.
+
+_Sulp._ Five Dames to day; this was a small stage,
+He may endure five more.
+
+_Jaq._ Breath, breath I cry still;
+Body o' me give breath, the man's a lost man else.
+Feed him and give him breath.
+
+_Enter_ 2 Gentlewomen.
+
+_Sulp._ Welcome Gentlewomen,
+Y'are very welcome.
+
+_1 Gen._ We hear you have a lusty and well complexion'd fellow
+That does rare tricks; my Sister and my self here,
+Would trifle out an hour or two, so please you.
+
+_Sulp._ _Jaques_, conduct 'em in.
+
+_Both._ There's for your courtesie. [_Ex._ Jaq. _and_ Gent.
+
+_Sulp._ Good pay still, good round pay, this happy fellow
+Will set me up again; he brings in gold
+Faster than I have leisure to receive it.
+O that his body were not flesh and fading;
+But I'le so pap him up--nothing too dear for him;
+What a sweet scent he has?--Now what news _Jaques_?
+
+_Jaq._ He cannot last, I pity the poor man,
+I suffer for him; two Coaches of young City dames,
+And they drive as the Devil were in the wheels,
+Are ready now to enter: and behind these
+An old dead-palsied Lady in a Litter,
+And she makes all the haste she can: the man's lost,
+You may gather up his dry bones to make Nine-pins,
+But for his flesh.
+
+_Sulp._ These are but easie labours
+Yet, for I know he must have rest.
+
+_Ja._ He must--you'll beat him off his legs else presently.
+
+_Sul._ Go in, and bid him please himself, I am pleas'd too:
+To morrow's a new day; but if he can
+I would have him take pity o' the old Lady.
+Alas 'tis charity.
+
+_Jaq._ I'le tell him all this,
+And if he be not too fool-hardy.
+
+_Enter_ Zabulon.
+
+_Sulp._ How now?
+What news with you?
+
+_Zab._ You must presently
+Shew all the art you have, and for my Lady.
+
+_Sulp._ She may command.
+
+_Zab._ You must not dream nor trifle.
+
+_Sulp._ Which way?
+
+_Zab._ A spell you must prepare, a powerful one,
+Peruse but these directions, you shall find all;
+There is the picture too, be quick, and faithful,
+And do it with that strength--when 'tis perform'd,
+Pitch your reward at what you please, you have it.
+
+_Sul._ I'le do my best, and suddenly: but hark ye,
+Will you never lye at home again?
+
+_Zab._ Excuse me,
+I have too much business yet.
+
+_Sulp._ I am right glad on't.
+
+_Zab._ Think on your business, so farewel.
+
+_Sulp._ I'le do it.
+
+_Zab._ Within this hour I'le visit you again
+And give you greater lights.
+
+_Sulp._ I shall observe ye;
+This brings a brave reward, bravely I'le do it,
+And all the hidden art I have, express in't. [_Exeunt at both doors._
+
+_Enter_ Rutilio _with a Night-cap._
+
+_Rut._ Now do I look as if I were Crow-trodden,
+Fye, how my hams shrink under me! O me,
+I am broken-winded too; is this a life?
+Is this the recreation I have aim'd at?
+I had a body once, a handsome body,
+And wholesome too. Now I appear like a rascal,
+That had been hung a year or two in Gibbets.
+Fye how I faint! women? keep me from women;
+Place me before a Cannon, 'tis a pleasure;
+Stretch me upon a Rack, a recreation;
+But women? women? O the Devil! women?
+_Curtius_ Gulf was never half so dangerous.
+Is there no way to find the Trap-door again,
+And fall into the Cellar, and be taken?
+No lucky fortune to direct me that way?
+No Gallies to be got, nor yet no Gallows?
+For I fear nothing now, no earthly thing
+But these unsatisfied Men-leeches, women.
+How devilishly my bones ake! O the old Lady!
+I have a kind of waiting-woman lyes cross my back too,
+O how she stings! no treason to deliver me?
+Now what are you? do you mock me?
+
+ _Enter_ 3. _with Night-caps very faintly._
+
+_1_ No Sir, no;
+We were your Predecessors in this place.
+
+_2_ And come to see you bear up.
+
+_Rut._ Good Gentlemen;
+You seem to have a snuffing in your head Sir,
+A parlous snuffing, but this same dampish air--
+
+_2_ A dampish air indeed.
+
+_Rut._ Blow your face tenderly,
+Your nose will ne're endure it: mercy o' me,
+What are men chang'd to here? is my nose fast yet?
+Me thinks it shakes i'th' hilts: pray tell me gentlemen,
+How long is't since you flourisht here?
+
+_3_ Not long since.
+
+_Rut._ Move your self easily, I see you are tender,
+Nor long endured.
+
+_2_ The labour was so much Sir,
+And so few to perform it--
+
+_Rut._ Must I come to this?
+And draw my legs after me like a lame Dog?
+I cannot run away, I am too feeble:
+Will you sue for this place again Gentlemen?
+
+_1_ No truly Sir, the place has been too warm for our complexions.
+We have enough on't, rest you merry Sir,
+We came but to congratulate your fortune,
+You have abundance.
+
+_3_ Bear your fortune soberly,
+And so we leave you to the next fair Lady. [_Ex. the_ 3.
+
+_Rut._ Stay but a little, and I'le meet you Gentlemen,
+At the next Hospital: there's no living thus,
+Nor am I able to endure it longer,
+With all the helps and heats that can be given me,
+I am at my trot already: they are fair and young
+Most of the women that repair unto me,
+But they stick on like Burs, shake me like Feathers.
+
+_Enter_ Sulpitia.
+
+More Women yet?
+Would I were honestly married
+To any thing that had but half a face,
+And not a groat to keep her, nor a smock,
+That I might be civilly merry when I pleased,
+Rather than labouring in these Fulling-mills.
+
+_Sul._ By this the spell begins to work: you are lusty,
+I see you bear up bravely yet.
+
+_Rut._ Do you hear Lady,
+Do not make a game-bear of me, to play me hourly,
+And fling on all your whelps; it would not hold;
+Play me with some discretion; to day one course,
+And two dayes hence another.
+
+_Sulp._ If you be so angry
+Pay back the mony I redeem'd you at
+And take your course, I can have men enough:
+You have cost me a hundred crowns since you came hither,
+In Broths and strength[n]ing Caudles; till you do pay me,
+If you will eat and live, you shall endeavour,
+I'le chain you to't else.
+
+_Rut._ Make me a Dog-kennel,
+I'le keep your house and bark, and feed on bare bones,
+And be whipt out o' doors,
+Do you mark me Lady? whipt,
+I'le eat old shoes.
+
+_Enter_ Duarte.
+
+_Dua._ In this house I am told
+There is a stranger, of a goodly person,
+And such a one there was; if I could see him,
+I yet remember him.
+
+_Sulp._ Your business Sir,
+If it be for a woman, ye are couzen'd,
+I keep none here. [_Exit._
+
+_Dua._ Certain this is the Gentleman;
+The very same.
+
+_Rut._ Death, if I had but mony,
+Or any friend to bring me from this bondage,
+I would Thresh, set up a Cobler's shop, keep Hogs,
+And feed with 'em, sell Tinder-boxes,
+And Knights of Ginger-bread, Thatch for three
+Half pence a day, and think it Lordly,
+From this base Stallion trade: why does he eye me,
+Eye me so narrowly?
+
+_Dua._ It seems you are troubled Sir,
+I heard you speak of want.
+
+_Rut._ 'Tis better hearing
+Far, than relieving Sir.
+
+_Dua._ I do not think so, you know me not.
+
+_Rut._ Not yet that I remember.
+
+_Dua._ You shall, and for your friend: I am beholding to ye,
+Greatly beholding Sir; if you remember,
+You fought with such a man, they call'd _Duarte_,
+A proud distemper'd man: he was my enemy,
+My mortal foe, you slew him fairly, nobly.
+
+_Rut._ Speak softly Sir, you do not mean to betray me,
+I wisht the Gallows, now th'are coming fairly.
+
+_Dua._ Be confident, for as I live, I love you,
+And now you shall perceive it: for that service,
+Me, and my purse command: there, take it to ye,
+'Tis gold, and no small sum, a thousand Duckets,
+Supply your want.
+
+_Rut._ But do you do this faithfully?
+
+_Dua._ If I mean ill, spit in my face and kick me:
+In what else I may serve you, Sir--
+
+_Rut._ I thank you,
+This is as strange to me as Knights adventures.
+I have a project, 'tis an honest one,
+And now I'le tempt my fortune.
+
+_Dua._ Trust me with it.
+
+_Rut._ You are so good and honest I must trust ye,
+'Tis but to carry a letter to a Lady
+That sav'd my life once.
+
+_Dua._ That will be most thankful,
+I will do't with all care.
+
+_Rut._ Where are you, white-broth?
+Now lusty blood,
+Come in, and tell your mony:
+'Tis ready here, no threats, nor no orations,
+Nor prayers now.
+
+_Sulp._ You do not mean to leave me.
+
+_Rut._ I'le live in Hell sooner than here, and cooler.
+Come quickly come, dispatch, this air's unwho[l]som:
+Quickly good Lady, quickly to't.
+
+_Sulp._ Well, since it must be,
+The next I'le fetter faster sure, and closer.
+
+_Rut._ And pick his bones, as y'have done mine, pox take ye.
+
+_Dua._ At my lodging for a while, you shall be quartered,
+And there take Physick for your health.
+
+_Rut._ I thank ye,
+I have found my angel now too, if I can keep him.
+ [_Exeunt omnes._
+
+
+
+
+_Actus Quintus. Scena Prima._
+
+
+_Enter Rutilio and Duarte._
+
+_Rut. You like the Letter?
+
+_Dua._ Yes, but I must tell you
+You tempt a desperate hazard, to sollicite
+The mother, (and the grieved one too, 'tis rumor'd)
+Of him you slew so lately.
+
+_Rut._ I have told you
+Some proofs of her affection, and I know not
+A nearer way to make her satisfaction
+For a lost Son, than speedily to help her
+To a good Husband; one that will beget
+Both Sons and Daughters, if she be not barren.
+I have had a breathing now, and have recovered
+What I lost in my late service, 'twas a hot one:
+It fired and fired me; but all thanks to you Sir,
+You have both freed and cool'd me.
+
+_Dua._ What is done Sir,
+I thought well done, and was in that rewarded,
+And therefore spare your thanks.
+
+_Rut._ I'le no more Whoring:
+This fencing 'twixt a pair of sheets, more wears one
+Than all the exercise in the world besides.
+To be drunk with good Canary, a meer Julip
+Or like gourd-water to't; twenty Surfeits
+Come short of one nights work there. If I get this Lady
+As ten to one I shall, I was ne're denied yet,
+I will live wondrous honestly; walk before her
+Gravely and demurely
+And then instruct my family; you are sad,
+What do you muse on Sir?
+
+_Dua._ Truth I was thinking
+What course to take for the delivery of your letter,
+And now I have it: but faith did this Lady
+(For do not gull your self) for certain know,
+You kill'd her Son?
+
+_Rut._ Give me a Book I'le swear't;
+Denyed me to the Officers, that pursued me,
+Brought me her self to th' door, then gave me gold
+To bear my charges, and shall I make doubt then
+But that she lov'd me? I am confident
+Time having ta'ne her grief off, that I shall be
+Most welcome to her: for then to have wooed her
+Had been unseasonable.
+
+_Dua._ Well Sir, there's more mony,
+To ma[ke] you handsome; I'le about your business:
+You know where you must stay?
+
+_Rut._ There you shall find me:
+Would I could meet my Brother now, to know,
+Whether the Jew, his Genius, or my Christian,
+Has prov'd the better friend. [_Exit._
+
+_Dua._ O who would trust
+Deceiving woman! or believe that one
+The best, and most Canoniz'd ever was
+More than a seeming goodness? I could rail now
+Against the sex, and curse it; but the theam
+And way's too common: yet that _Guiomar_
+My Mother; (nor let that forbid her to be
+The wonder of our nation) she that was
+Mark'd out the great example, for all Matrons
+Both Wife and Widow; she that in my breeding
+Exprest the utmost of a Mothers care,
+And tenderness to a Son; she that yet feigns
+Such sorrow for me; good God, that this mother,
+After all this, should give up to a stranger,
+The wreak she ow'd her Son; I fear her honour.
+That he was sav'd, much joyes me, and grieve only
+That she was his preserver. I'le try further,
+And by this Engine, find whether the tears,
+Of which she is so prodigal, are for me,
+Or us'd to cloak her base hypocrisie. [_Exit._
+
+_Enter_ Hippolyta _and_ Sulpitia.
+
+_Hip._ Are you assur'd the charm prevails?
+
+_Sulp._ Do I live?
+Or do you speak to me? Now this very instant
+Health takes its last leave of her; meager paleness
+Like winter, nips the Roses and the Lilies,
+The Spring that youth, and love adorn'd her face with.
+To force affection, is beyond our art,
+For I have prov'd all means that hell has taught me,
+Or the malice of a woman, which exceeds it,
+To change _Arnoldo's_ love, but to no purpose:
+But for your bond-woman--
+
+_Hip._ Let her pine and dye;
+She remov'd, which like a brighter Sun,
+Obscures my beams, I may shine out again,
+And as I have been, be admir'd and sought to:
+How long has she to live?
+
+_Sulp._ Lady, before
+The Sun twice rise and set, be confident,
+She is but dead; I know my Charm hath found her.
+Nor can the Governours Guard; her lovers tears;
+Her Fathers sorrow, or his power that freed her,
+Defend her from it.
+
+_Enter_ Zabulon.
+
+_Zab._ All things have succeeded,
+As you could wish; I saw her brought sick home;
+The image of pale death, stampt on her fore-head.
+Let me adore this second Hecate,
+This great Commandress, of the fatal Sisters,
+That as she pleases, can cut short, or lengthen
+The thread of life.
+
+_Hip._ Where was she when the inchantment
+First seis'd upon her?
+
+_Zab._ Taking the fresh air,
+In the company of the Governour, and Count _Clodio_,
+_Arnoldo_ too, was present with her Father,
+When, in a moment (so the servants told me)
+As she was giving thanks to the Governour,
+And _Clodio_, for her unexpected freedom,
+As if she had been blasted, she sunk down,
+To their amazement.
+
+_Hip._ 'Tis thy master-piece
+Which I will so reward, that thou shalt fix here,
+And with the hazard of thy life, no more
+Make tryal of thy powerful Art; which known
+Our Laws call death: off with this Magical Robe,
+And be thy self.
+
+_Enter_ Governour, Clodio, _and_ Charino.
+
+_Sulp._ Stand close, you shall hear more.
+
+_Man._ You must have patience; all rage is vain now,
+And piety forbids, that we should question
+What is decreed above, or ask a reason
+Why heaven determines this or that way of us.
+
+_Clod._ Heaven has no hand in't; 'tis a work of hell.
+Her life hath been so innocent, all her actions
+So free from the suspicion of crime,
+As rather she deserves a Saints place here,
+Than to endure, what now her sweetness suffers.
+
+_Char._ Not for her fault, but mine Sir, _Zenocia_ suffers:
+The sin I made, when I sought to rase down
+_Arnoldo's_ love, built on a Rock of truth,
+Now to the height is punish'd. I profess,
+Had he no birth, nor parts, the present sorrow
+He now expresses for her, does deserve her
+Above all Kings, though such had been his rivals.
+
+_Clod._ All ancient stories, of the love of Husbands
+To vertuous Wives, be now no more remembred.
+
+_Char._ The tales of _Turtles_, ever be forgotten,
+Or, for his sake believ'd.
+
+_Man._ I have heard, there has been
+Between some married pairs, such sympathy,
+That th' Husband has felt really the throws
+His Wife then teeming suffers, this true grief
+Confirms, 'tis not impossible.
+
+_Clod._ We shall find
+Fit time for this hereafter; let's use now
+All possible means to help her.
+
+_Man._ Care, nor cost,
+Nor what Physicians can do, shall be wanting;
+Make use of any means or men.
+
+_Char._ You are noble.
+ [_Exeunt_ Man. Clod, _and_ Char.
+
+_Sulp._ Ten Colledges of Doctors shall not save her.
+Her fate is in your hand.
+
+_Hip._ Can I restore her?
+
+_Sulp._ If you command my Art.
+
+_Hip._ I'le dye my self first.
+And yet I'le go visit her, and see
+This miracle of sorrow in _Arnoldo_:
+And 'twere for me, I should change places with her,
+And dye most happy, such a lovers tears
+Were a rich monument, but too good for her,
+Whose misery I glory in: come _Sulpitia_,
+You shall along with me, good _Zabulon_
+Be not far off.
+
+_Zab._ I will attend you Madam. [_Exeunt._
+
+_Enter_ Duarte, _and a_ Servant.
+
+_Ser._ I have serv'd you from my youth, and ever
+You have found me faithful: that you live's a treasure
+I'le lock up here; nor shall it be let forth,
+But when you give me warrant.
+
+_Dua._ I rely
+Upon thy faith; nay, no more protestations,
+Too many of them will call that in question,
+Which now I doubt not: she is there?
+
+_Ser._ Alone too,
+But take it on my life, your entertainment,
+Appearing as you are, will be but course,
+For the displeasure I shall undergo
+I am prepar'd.
+
+_Dua._ Leave me, I'le stand the hazard. [_Exit_ Servant.
+The silence that's observ'd, her close retirements,
+No visitants admitted, not the day;
+These sable colours, all signs of true sorrow,
+Or hers is deeply counterfeit. I'le look nearer,
+Manners give leave--she sits upon the ground;
+By heaven she weeps; my picture in her hand too;
+She kisses it and weeps again.
+
+_Enter_ Guiomar.
+
+_Gui._ Who's there?
+
+_Dua._ There is no starting back now Madam.
+
+_Gui._ Ha, another murderer! I'le not protect thee,
+Though I have no more Sons.
+
+_Dua._ Your pardon Lady,
+There's no such foul fact taints me.
+
+_Gui._ What makes thou here then?
+Where are my servants, do none but my sorrows
+Attend upon me? speak, what brought thee hither?
+
+_Dua._ A will to give you comfort.
+
+_Gui._ Thou art but a man.
+And 'tis beyond a humane reach to do it,
+If thou could raise the dead out of their graves,
+Bid time run back, make me now what I was,
+A happy Mother; gladly I would hear thee,
+But that's impossible.
+
+_Dua._ Please you but read this;
+You shall know better there, why I am sent,
+Than if I should deliver it.
+
+_Gui._ From whom comes it?
+
+_Dua._ That will instruct you. I suspect this stranger,
+Yet she spake something that holds such alliance
+With his reports; I know not what to think on't;
+What a frown was there? she looks me through, & through,
+Now reads again, now pauses, and now smiles;
+And yet there's more of anger in't than mirth,
+These are strange changes; oh I understand it,
+She's full of serious thoughts.
+
+_Gui._ You are just, you Heavens,
+And never do forget to hear their prayers,
+That truly pay their vows, the defer'd vengeance,
+For you, and my words sake so long defer'd,
+Under which as a mountain my heart groans yet
+When 'twas despair'd of, now is offer'd to me;
+And if I lose it, I am both wayes guilty.
+The womans mask, dissimulation help me.
+Come hither friend, I am sure you know the Gentleman,
+That sent these charms.
+
+_Dua._ Charms Lady?
+
+_Gui._ These charms;
+I well may call them so, they've won upon me,
+More than ere letter did; thou art his friend,
+(The confidence he has in thee, confirms it)
+And therefore I'le be open breasted to thee;
+To hear of him, though yet I never saw him,
+Was most desir'd of all men; let me blush,
+And then I'le say I love him.
+
+_Dua._ All men see,
+In this a womans vertue.
+
+_Gui._ I expected
+For the courtesie I did, long since to have seen him,
+And though I then forbad it, you men know,
+Between our hearts and tongues there's a large distance;
+But I'le excuse him, may be hitherto
+He has forborn it, in respect my Son
+Fell by his hand.
+
+_Dua._ And reason Lady.
+
+_Gui._ No, he did me a pleasure in't, a riotous fellow,
+And with that insolent, not worth the owning;
+I have indeed kept a long solemn sorrow,
+For my friends sake partly; but especially
+For his long absence.
+
+_Dua._ O the Devil.
+
+_Guio._ Therefore
+Bid him be speedy; a Priest shall be ready
+To tye the holy knot; this kiss I send him,
+Deliver that and bring him.
+
+_Dua._ I am dumb:
+A good cause I have now, and a good sword,
+And something I shall do, I wait upon you. [_Exeunt._
+
+_Enter_ Manuel, Charino, Arnoldo, Zenocia, _born in a chair_. 2 Doctors,
+Clodio.
+
+_Doct._ Give her more air, she dyes else.
+
+_Arn._ O thou dread power,
+That mad'st this all, and of thy workmanship
+This virgin wife, the Master piece, look down on her;
+Let her minds virtues, cloth'd in this fair garment,
+That worthily deserves a better name
+Than flesh and bloud, now sue, and prevail for her.
+Or if those are denyed, let innocence,
+To which all passages in Heaven stand open,
+Appear in her white robe, before thy throne;
+And mediate for her: or if this age of sin
+Be worthy of a miracle, the Sun
+In his diurnal progress never saw
+So sweet a subject to imploy it on.
+
+_Man._ Wonders are ceas'd Sir, we must work by means.
+
+_Arno._ 'Tis true, and such reverend Physicians are;
+To you thus low I fall then; so may you ever
+Be stil'd the hands of Heaven, natures restorers;
+Get wealth and honours; and by your success,
+In all your undertakings, propagate
+Your great opinion in the world, as now
+You use your saving art; for know good Gentlemen,
+Besides the fame, and all that I possess,
+For a reward, posterity shall stand
+Indebted to you, for (as Heaven forbid it)
+Should my _Zenocia_ dye, robbing this age
+Of all that's good or gracefull, times succeeding,
+The story of her pure life not yet perfect,
+Will suffer in the want of her example.
+
+_Doct._ Were all the world to perish with her, we
+Can do no more, than what art and experience
+Give us assurance of, we have us'd all means
+To find the cause of her disease, yet cannot;
+How should we then, promise the cure?
+
+_Arn._ Away,
+I did bely you, when I charg'd you with
+The power of doing, ye are meer names only,
+And even your best perfection, accidental;
+What ever malady thou art, or Spirit,
+As some hold all diseases that afflict us,
+As love already makes me sensible
+Of half her sufferings, ease her of her part,
+And let me stand the butt of thy fell malice,
+And I will swear th'art mercifull.
+
+_Doct._ Your hand Lady;
+What a strange heat is here! bring some warm water.
+
+_Arn._ She shall use nothing that is yours; my sorrow
+Provides her of a better bath, my tears
+Shall do that office.
+
+_Zeno._ O my best _Arnoldo_!
+The truest of all lovers! I would live
+Were heaven so pleas'd, but to reward your sorrow
+With my true service; but since that's denied me,
+May you live long and happy: do not suffer
+(By your affection to me I conjure you)
+My sickness to infect you; though much love
+Makes you too subject to it.
+
+_Arn._ In this only
+
+_Zenocia_ wrongs her servant; can the body
+Subsist, the Soul departed? 'tis as easie
+As I to live without you; I am your husband,
+And long have been so, though our adverse fortune,
+Bandying us from one hazard to another,
+Would never grant me so much happiness,
+As to pay a husbands debt; despite of fortune,
+In death I'le follow you, and guard mine own;
+And there enjoy what here my fate forbids me.
+
+_Clod._ So true a sorrow, and so feelingly
+Exprest, I never read of.
+
+_Man._ I am struck
+With wonder to behold it, as with pity.
+
+_Char._ If you that are a stranger, suffer for them,
+Being tied no further than humanity
+Leads you to soft compassion; think great Sir,
+What of necessity I must endure,
+That am a Father?
+
+Hippolyta, Zabulon, _and_ Sulpitia _at the door._
+
+_Zab._ Wait me there, I hold it
+Unfit to have you seen; as I find cause,
+You shall proceed.
+
+_Man._ You are welcom Lady.
+
+_Hip._ Sir, I come to do a charitable office,
+How does the patient?
+
+_Clod._ You may enquire
+Of more than one; for two are sick, and deadly,
+He languishes in her, her health's despair'd of,
+And in hers, his.
+
+_Hip._ 'Tis a strange spectacle,
+With what a patience they sit unmov'd!
+Are they not dead already?
+
+_Doct._ By her pulse,
+She cannot last a day.
+
+_Arn._ Oh by that summons,
+I know my time too!
+
+_Hip._ Look to the man.
+
+_Clod._ Apply
+Your Art, to save the Lady, preserve her,
+A town is your reward.
+
+_Hip. I'le treble it,
+In ready gold, if you restore _Arnoldo_;
+For in his death I dye too.
+
+_Clod._ Without her
+I am no more.
+
+_Arn._ Are you there Madam? now
+You may feast on my miseries; my coldness
+In answering your affections, or hardness,
+Give it what name you please, you are reveng'd of,
+For now you may perceive, our thred of life
+Was spun together, and the poor _Arnoldo_
+Made only to enjoy the best _Zenocia_,
+And not to serve the use of any other;
+And in that she may equal; my Lord _Clodio_
+Had long since else enjoyed her, nor could I
+Have been so blind, as not to see your great
+And many excellencies far, far beyond
+Or my deservings, or my hopes; we are now
+Going our latest journey, and together,
+Our only comfort we desire, pray give it,
+Your charity to our ashes, such we must be,
+And not to curse our memories.
+
+_Hip._ I am much mov'd.
+
+_Clod._ I am wholly overcome, all love to women
+Farewell for ever; ere you dye, your pardon;
+And yours Sir; had she many years to live,
+Perhaps I might look on her, as a Brother,
+But as a lover never; and since all
+Your sad misfortunes had original
+From the barbarous Custom practis'd in my Country,
+Heaven witness, for your sake I here release it;
+So to your memory, chaste Wives and Virgins
+Shall ever pay their vowes. I give her to you;
+And wish, she were so now, as when my lust
+Forc'd you to quit the Country.
+
+_Hip._ It is in vain
+To strive with destiny, here my dotage ends,
+Look up _Zenocia_, health in me speaks to you;
+She gives him to you, that by divers ways,
+So long has kept him from you: and repent not,
+That you were once my servant, for which health
+In recompence of what I made you suffer,
+The hundred thousand Crowns, the City owes me,
+Shall be your dower.
+
+_Man._ 'Tis a magnificent gift,
+Had it been timely given.
+
+_Hip._ It is believe it, _Sulpitia_.
+
+_Enter a_ Servant, _and_ Sulpitia.
+
+_Sulp._ Madam.
+
+_Hip._ Quick, undoe the charm;
+Ask not a reason why; let it suffice,
+It is my will.
+
+_Sulp._ Which I obey and gladly. [_Exit._
+
+_Man._ Is to be married, sayest thou?
+
+_Ser._ So she sayes Sir,
+And does desire your presence. [_They are born off in chairs._
+
+_Man._ And tell her I'le come.
+
+_Hip._ Pray carry them to their rest; for though already,
+They do appear as dead, let my life pay for't,
+If they recover not.
+
+_Man._ What you have warranted,
+Assure your self, will be expected from you;
+Look to them carefully; and till the tryal,--
+
+_Hip._ Which shall not be above four hours.
+
+_Man._ Let me
+Intreat your companies: there is something
+Of weight invites me hence.
+
+_All._ We'll wait upon you. [_Exeunt._
+
+_Enter_ Guiomar, _and_ Servants.
+
+_Guio._ You understand what my directions are,
+And what they guide you to; the faithfull promise
+You have made me all.
+
+_All._ We do and will perform it.
+
+_Guio._ The Governour will not fail to be here presently;
+Retire a while, till you shall find occasion,
+And bring me word, when they arrive.
+
+_All._ Wee shall Madam.
+
+_Guio._ Only stay you to entertain.
+
+_1 Ser._ I am ready.
+
+_Guio._ I wonder at the bold, and practis'd malice,
+Men ever have o' foot against our honours,
+That nothing we can do, never so vertuous,
+No shape put on so pious, no not think
+What a good is, be that good ne're so noble,
+Never so laden with admir'd example,
+But still we end in lust; our aims, our actions,
+Nay, even our charities, with lust are branded;
+Why should this stranger else, this wretched stranger,
+Whose life I sav'd at what dear price sticks here yet,
+Why should he hope? he was not here an hour,
+And certainly in that time, I may swear it
+I gave him no loose look, I had no reason;
+Unless my tears were flames, my curses courtships;
+The killing of my Son, a kindness to me.
+Why should he send to me, or with what safety
+(Examining the ruine he had wrought me)
+Though at that time, my pious pity found him,
+And my word fixt; I am troubled, strongly troubled.
+
+_Enter a_ Servant.
+
+_Ser._ The Gentlemen are come.
+
+_Guio._ Then bid 'em welcome--I must retire. [_Exit._
+
+_Enter_ Rutilio, _and_ Duarte.
+
+_Ser._ You are welcom Gentlemen.
+
+_Rut._ I thank you friend, I would speak with your Lady.
+
+_Ser._ I'le let her understand.
+
+_Rut._ It shall befit you.
+How do I look Sir, in this handsome trim? [_Exit_ Servant.
+Me thinks I am wondrous brave.
+
+_Duar._ You are very decent.
+
+_Rut._ These by themselves, without more helps of nature,
+Would set a woman hard; I know 'em all,
+And where their first aims light; I'le lay my head on't,
+I'le take her eye, as soon as she looks on me,
+And if I come to speak once, woe be to her,
+I have her in a nooze, she cannot scape me;
+I have their several lasts.
+
+_Dua._ You are throughly studied,
+But tell me Sir, being unacquainted with her,
+As you confess you are--
+
+_Rut._ That's not an hours work,
+I'le make a Nun forget her beads in two hours.
+
+_Dua._ She being set in years, next none of those lusters
+Appearing in her eye, that warm the fancy;
+Nor nothing in her face, but handsom ruines.
+
+_Rut._ I love old stories: those live believ'd, Authentique,
+When 20. of your modern faces are call'd in,
+For new opinion, paintings, and corruptions;
+Give me an old confirm'd face; besides she sav'd me,
+She sav'd my life, have I not cause to love her?
+She's rich and of a constant state, a fair one,
+Have I not cause to wooe her? I have tryed sufficient
+All your young Phillies, I think this back has try'd 'em,
+And smarted for it too: they run away with me,
+Take bitt between the teeth, and play the Devils;
+A staied pace now becomes my years; a sure one,
+Where I may sit and crack no girths.
+
+_Dua._ How miserable,
+If my Mother should confirm, what I suspect now,
+Beyond all humane cure were my condition!
+Then I shall wish, this body had been so too.
+Here comes the Lady Sir.
+
+_Enter_ Guiomar.
+
+_Rut._ Excellent Lady,
+To shew I am a creature, bound to your service,
+And only yours--
+
+_Guio._ Keep at that distance Sir;
+For if you stir--
+
+_Rut._ I am obedient.
+She has found already, I am for her turn;
+With what a greedy hawks eye she beholds me!
+Mark how she musters all my parts.
+
+_Guio._ A goodly Gentleman,
+Of a more manly set, I never look'd on.
+
+_Rut._ Mark, mark her eyes still; mark but the carriage of 'em.
+
+_Guio._ How happy am I now, since my Son fell,
+He fell not by a base unnoble hand!
+As that still troubled me; how far more happy
+Shall my revenge be, since the Sacrifice,
+I offer to his grave, shall be both worthy
+A Sons untimely loss, and a Mothers sorrow!
+
+_Rut._ Sir, I am made believe it; she is mine own,
+I told you what a spell I carried with me,
+All this time does she spend in contemplation
+Of that unmatch'd delight: I shall be thankfull to ye;
+And if you please to know my house, to use it;
+To take it for your own.
+
+_Guio._ Who waits without there?
+
+_Enter_ Guard, _and_ Servants, _they seize upon_ Rut. _and bind him._
+
+_Rut._ How now? what means this, Lady?
+
+_Guio._ Bind him fast.
+
+_Rut._ Are these the bride-laces you prepare for me?
+The colours that you give?
+
+_Dua._ Fye Gentle Lady,
+This is not noble dealing.
+
+_Guio._ Be you satisfied,
+I[t] seems you are a stranger to this meaning,
+You shall not be so long.
+
+_Rut._ Do you call this wooing--Is there no end of womens persecutions?
+Must I needs fool into mine own destruction?
+Have I not had fair warnings, and enough too?
+Still pick the Devils teeth? you are not mad Lady;
+Do I come fairly, and like a Gentleman,
+To offer you that honour?
+
+_Guio._ You are deceiv'd Sir,
+You come besotted, to your own destruction:
+I sent not for you; what honour can ye add to me,
+That brake that staff of honour, my age lean'd on?
+That rob'd me of that right, made me a Mother?
+Hear me thou wretched man, hear me with terrour,
+And let thine own bold folly shake thy Soul,
+Hear me pronounce thy death, that now hangs o're thee,
+Thou desperate fool; who bad thee seek this ruine?
+What mad unmanly fate, made thee discover
+Thy cursed face to me again? was't not enough
+To have the fair protection of my house,
+When misery and justice close pursued thee?
+When thine own bloudy sword, cryed out against thee,
+Hatcht in the life of him? yet I forgave thee.
+My hospitable word, even when I saw
+The goodliest branch of all my blood lopt from me,
+Did I not seal still to thee?
+
+_Rut._ I am gone.
+
+_Guio._ And when thou went'st, to Imp thy miserie,
+Did I not give thee means? but hark ungratefull,
+Was it not thus? to hide thy face and fly me?
+To keep thy name for ever from my memory?
+Thy cursed blood and kindred? did I not swear then,
+If ever, (in this wretched life thou hast left me,
+Short and unfortunate,) I saw thee again,
+Or came but to the knowledge, where thou wandredst,
+To call my vow back, and pursue with vengeance
+With all the miseries a Mother suffers?
+
+_Rut._ I was born to be hang'd, there's no avoiding it.
+
+_Guio._ And dar'st thou with this impudence appear here?
+Walk like the winding sheet my Son was put in,
+Stand with those wounds?
+
+_Dua._ I am happy now again;
+Happy the hour I fell, to find a Mother,
+So pious, good, and excellent in sorrows.
+
+_Enter a_ Servant.
+
+_Ser._ The Governour's come in.
+
+_Guio._ O let him enter.
+
+_Rut._ I have fool'd my self a fair thred of all my fortunes,
+This strikes me most; not that I fear to perish,
+But that this unmannerly boldness has brought me to it.
+
+_Enter_ Governour, Clodio, Charino.
+
+_Gov._ Are these fit preparations for a wedding Lady?
+I came prepar'd a guest.
+
+_Guio._ O give me justice;
+As ever you will leave a vertuous name,
+Do justice, justice, Sir.
+
+_Gove._ You need not ask it,
+I am bound to it.
+
+_Guio._ Justice upon this man
+That kill'd my Son.
+
+_Gove._ Do you confess the act?
+
+_Rut._ Yes Sir.
+
+_Clod._ _Rutilio_?
+
+_Char._ 'Tis the same.
+
+_Clod._ How fell he thus?
+Here will be sorrow for the good _Arnoldo_.
+
+_Gove._ Take heed Sir what you say.
+
+_Rut._ I have weigh'd it well,
+I am the man, nor is it life I start at;
+Only I am unhappy I am poor,
+Poor in expence of lives, there I am wretched,
+That I have not two lives lent me for his sacrifice;
+One for her Son, another for her sorrows.
+Excellent Lady, now rejoyce again,
+For though I cannot think, y'are pleas'd in blood,
+Nor with that greedy thirst pursue your vengeance;
+The tenderness, even in those tears denies that;
+Yet let the world believe, you lov'd _Duarte_;
+The unmatcht courtesies you have done my miseries;
+Without this forfeit to the law, would charge me
+To tender you this life, and proud 'twould please you.
+
+_Guio._ Shall I have justice?
+
+_Gover._ Yes.
+
+_Rut._ I'le ask it for ye,
+I'le follow it my self, against my self.
+Sir, 'Tis most fit I dye; dispatch it quickly,
+The monstrous burthen of that grief she labours with
+Will kill her else, then blood on blood lyes on me;
+Had I a thousand lives, I'd give 'em all,
+Before I would draw one tear more from that vertue.
+
+_Guio._ Be not too cruel Sir, and yet his bold sword--
+But his life cannot restore that, he's a man too--
+Of a fair promise, but alas my Son's dead;
+If I have justice, must it kill him?
+
+_Gov._ Yes.
+
+_Guio._ If I have not, it kills me, strong and goodly!
+Why should he perish too?
+
+_Gover._ It lies in your power,
+You only may accuse him, or may quit him.
+
+_Clod._ Be there no other witnesses?
+
+_Guio._ Not any.
+And if I save him, will not the world proclaim,
+I have forgot a Son, to save a murderer?
+And yet he looks not like one, he looks manly.
+
+_Hip._ Pity so brave a Gentleman should perish.
+She cannot be so hard, so cruel hearted.
+
+_Guio._ Will you pronounce? yet stay a little Sir.
+
+_Rut._ Rid your self, Lady, of this misery;
+And let me go, I do but breed more tempests,
+With which you are already too much shaken.
+
+_Guio._ Do now, pronounce; I will not hear.
+
+_Dua._ You shall not,
+Yet turn and see good Madam.
+
+_Gove._ Do not wonder.
+'Tis he, restor'd again, thank the good Doctor,
+Pray do not stand amaz'd, it is _Duarte_;
+Is well, is safe again.
+
+_Guio._ O my sweet Son,
+I will not press my wonder now with questions--
+Sir, I am sorry for that cruelty,
+I urg'd against you.
+
+_Rut._ Madam, it was but justice.
+
+_Dua._ 'Tis [t]rue, the Doctor heal'd this body again,
+But this man heal'd my soul, made my minde perfect,
+The good sharp lessons his sword read to me, sav'd me;
+For which, if you lov'd me, dear Mother,
+Honour and love this man.
+
+_Guio._ You sent this letter?
+
+_Rut._ My boldness makes me blush now.
+
+_Guio._ I'le wipe off that,
+And with this kiss, I take you for my husband,
+Your wooing's done Sir; I believe you love me,
+And that's the wealth I look for now.
+
+_Rut._ You have it.
+
+_Dua._ You have ended my desire to all my wishes.
+
+_Gov._ Now 'tis a wedding again. And if _Hippolyta_
+Make good, what with the hazard of her life,
+She undertook, the evening will set clear
+
+_Enter_ Hippolyta, _leading_ Leopold, Arnoldo, Zenocia, _in either hand_,
+Zabulon, Sulpitia.
+
+After a stormy day.
+
+_Char._ Here comes the Lady.
+
+_Clod._ With fair _Zenocia_,
+Health with life again
+Restor'd unto her.
+
+_Zen._ The gift of her goodness.
+
+_Rut._ Let us embrace, I am of your order too,
+And though I once despair'd of women, now
+I find they relish much of Scorpions,
+For both have stings, and both can hurt, and cure too;
+But what have been your fortunes?
+
+_Arn._ Wee'l defer
+Our story, and at time more fit, relate it.
+Now all that reverence vertue, and in that
+_Zenocias_ constancy, and perfect love,
+Or for her sake _Arnoldo_, join with us
+In th' honour of this Lady.
+
+_Char._ She deserves it.
+
+_Hip._ _Hippolytas_ life shall make that good hereafter,
+Nor will I alone better my self but others:
+For these whose wants perhaps have made their actions
+Not altogether innocent, shall from me
+Be so supplied, that need shall not compel them,
+To any course of life, but what the law
+Shall give allowance to.
+
+_Zab._ _Sulpitia_, Your Ladiships creatures.
+
+_Rut._ Be so, and no more you man-huckster.
+
+_Hip._ And worthy _Leopold_, you that with such fervour,
+So long have sought me, and in that deserv'd me,
+Shall now find full reward for all your travels,
+Which you have made more dear by patient sufferance.
+And though my violent dotage did transport me,
+Beyond those bounds, my modesty should have kept in,
+Though my desires were loose, from unchast art
+Heaven knows I am free.
+
+_Leop._ The thought of that's dead to me;
+I gladly take your offer.
+
+_Rut._ Do so Sir,
+A piece of crackt gold ever will weigh down
+Silver that's whole.
+
+_Gov._ You shall be all my guests,
+I must not be denyed.
+
+_Arn._ Come my _Zenocia_.
+Our bark at length has found a quiet harbour;
+And the unspotted progress of our loves
+Ends not alone in safety, but reward,
+To instruct others, by our fair example;
+That though good purposes are long withstood,
+The hand of Heaven still guides such as are good.
+
+ [_Ex. omnes._
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+The Prologue.
+
+_So free this work is, Gentlemen, from offence,
+That we are confident, it needs no defence
+From us, or from the Poets--we dare look
+On any man, that brings his Table-book
+To write down, what again he may repeat
+At some great Table, to deserve his meat.
+Let such come swell'd with malice, to apply
+What is mirth here, there for an injurie.
+Nor Lord, nor Lady we have tax'd; nor State,
+Nor any private person, their poor hate
+Will be starved here, for envy shall not finde
+One touch that may be wrested to her minde.
+And yet despair not, Gentlemen, The play
+Is quick and witty; so the Poets say,
+And we believe them; the plot neat, and new,
+Fashion'd like those, that are approv'd by you.
+Only 'twill crave attention, in the most;
+Because one point unmarked, the whole is lost.
+Hear first then, and judge after, and be free,
+And as our cause is, let our censure be._
+
+
+
+
+Epilogue.
+
+
+_Why there should be an Epilogue to a play,
+I know no cause: the old and usuall way,
+For which they were made, was to entreat the grace
+Of such as were spectators in this place,
+And time, 'tis to no purpose; for I know
+What you resolve already to bestow,
+Will not be alter'd, what so e're I say,
+In the behalf of us, and of the Play;
+Only to quit our doubts, if you think fit,
+You may, or cry it up, or silence it._
+
+
+
+
+Another Prologue for the Custom of the Country.
+
+_We wish, if it were possible, you knew
+ What we would give for this nights look, if new.
+It being our ambition to delight
+ Our kind spectators with what's good, and right.
+Yet so far know, and credit me, 'twas made
+ By such, as were held work-men in their Trade,
+At a time too, when they as I divine,
+ Were truly merrie, and drank lusty wine,
+The nectar of the Muses; Some are here
+ I dare presume, to whom it did appear
+A well-drawn piece, which gave a lawfull birth
+ To passionate Scenes mixt with no vulgar mirth.
+But unto such to whom 'tis known by fame
+ From others, perhaps only by the name,
+I am a suitor, that they would prepare
+ Sound palats, and then judge their bill of fare.
+It were injustice to decry this now
+ For being like'd before, you may allow
+(Your candor safe) what's taught in the old schools,
+ All such as liv'd before you, were not fools._
+
+
+
+
+The Epilogue.
+
+_I spake much in the Prologue for the Play,
+ To its desert I hope, yet you might say
+Should I change now from that, which then was meant,
+ Or in a syllable grow less confident,
+I were weak-hearted. I am still the same
+ In my opinion, and forbear to frame
+Qualification, or excuse: If you
+ Concur with me, and hold my judgement true,
+Shew it with any sign, and from this place,
+ Or send me off exploded, or with grace._
+
+
+
+
+THE CUSTOM OF THE COUNTRY.
+
+A = The First Folio.
+
+p. 302,
+l. 2. A _omits_ Lists of Persons Represented in the Play
+ and of principal Actors.
+l. 49. Second Folio _misprints_] Arnolda.
+
+p. 303,
+l. 5. A] And that.
+l. 17. A] a conscience.
+l. 21. A] Customes.
+l. 24. A] In the world.
+
+p. 304,
+l. 25. A] it can.
+l. 36. A] I A dainty wench.
+l. 37. A _omits_] I.
+
+p. 305,
+l. 3. Second Folio _misprints_] yon.
+l. 11. A] wilde minde.
+l. 24. A] a heritage.
+
+p. 306,
+l. 14. A] De'e doubt tis day now.
+l. 15. A] pulses.
+
+p. 307,
+l. 32. A] This rogue that breaks.
+
+p. 308,
+l. 7. A] speake.
+
+p. 311,
+l. 31. A] alarums.
+
+p. 312,
+l. 14. A] this marring.
+l. 15. A] sheckles.
+ll. 26-28. A adds in the margin] _Boy ready for the songs._
+
+p. 313,
+l. 13. A] But such a ransome.
+ll. 28 and 29. A _adds_ marginal stage-direction]
+ _Bowle of wine ready._
+l. 31. A] And blushing and unloose.
+
+p. 314,
+l. 39. A] alarums.
+ll. 7 and 9. Second Folio] Arn.
+
+p. 316,
+l. 2. A] Pompean.
+l. 19. A] Ile ha' your life.
+l. 20. A prints this line as part of Charino's speech.
+
+p. 317,
+l. 8. A _omits_] A.
+l. 23. A _omits_] o're.
+
+p. 319,
+l. 8. A] Lisborne.
+
+p. 321,
+l. 21. A] renders.
+l. 35. A] Lisborne.
+
+p. 322,
+l. 14. A] aboord.
+l. 15. A] Yet my disguise.
+l. 30. A] the contempt.
+
+p. 325,
+l. 10. A] And he in Lisbon.
+ll. 22-26. This speech is printed in A as a continuation of
+ Arnoldo's.
+
+p. 326,
+ll. 18 and 19. A _adds_ in the margin] Tapers ready.
+l. 20. A] so, like a Turke.
+l. 26. Second Folio _misprints_] Of what.
+l. 34. Second Folio _misprints_] embace.
+
+p. 327,
+ll. 2-10. A gives all these lines to Rutilio.
+
+p. 328,
+ll. 5 and 6. A _adds_ in margin] Lights ready.
+l. 33. A _omits_] Fight.
+l. 35. A _omits_] Falls.
+l. 38. Second Folio _misprints_] Governous.
+
+p. 329,
+l. 4. A _omits_] 1.
+
+p. 331,
+l. 30. A prints marginal direction] Hold a purse ready.
+
+p. 333,
+l. 14. In A the words 'my state would rather ask a curse'
+ are printed by mistake between ll. 16 and 17.
+l. 23. A] sight.
+l. 30. A] her Chamber.
+
+p. 334.
+l. 17. A] but to a fortune.
+l. 21. A] bucket.
+l. 39. A prints the marginal direction (Musicke)
+ at the end of the following line.
+
+p. 335,
+l. 1. A _omits_] 1.
+l. 19. A] strike indeed.
+
+p. 336,
+l. 1. A] attend her.
+
+p. 341,
+ll. 14-16. A by mistake gives these lines as a continuation of
+ Sulpicia's speech.
+l. 33. A] beaten off.
+
+p. 342,
+l. 23. A] blow that part.
+
+p. 344,
+l. 12. A] affection.
+
+p. 345,
+l. 33. A] give that.
+
+p. 346,
+l. 4. A] may cease.
+
+p. 350,
+l. 18. A] a larum.
+
+p. 352,
+l. 5. A] had.
+l. 13. Second Folio _misprints_] Portual.
+
+p. 353,
+l. 29. A _omits_] will.
+
+p. 354,
+l. 25. Second Folio] comanded.
+
+p. 358,
+l. 31. A] angers.
+
+p. 359,
+l. 13. Second Folio] you.
+l. 25 and 26. A transposes these lines.
+l. 26. A _omits_] not.
+
+p. 361,
+l. 10. A] hopes. Lords againe.
+l. 38. A _omits_] and.
+
+p. 365,
+l. 27. A] it will not hold.
+l. 33. A] lost me an.
+l. 34. Second Folio _misprints_] strengthing.
+l. 39. A] a dores.
+
+p. 367,
+l. 4. A] adventure.
+1. 20. Second Folio _misprints_] unwhosom.
+
+p. 368,
+l. 38. Second Folio _misprints_] To may you.
+
+p. 369,
+l. 27. A _omits_] do.
+l. 28. A] maugre.
+
+p. 371,
+l. 9. A] sorrowes.
+l. 27. A _omits_] and.
+
+p. 372,
+l. 18. A] visitance.
+
+p. 373,
+l. 3. A] but to read.
+
+p. 375,
+l. 11. A] Gives.
+
+p. 376,
+l. 2. A] banding.
+
+p. 379,
+l. 1. A] a foote.
+l. 9. A] stick.
+l. 23. A] welcome home, Gentlemen.
+
+p. 380,
+l. 36. A] eye.
+
+p. 381,
+l. 19. Second Folio] If.
+
+p. 383,
+l. 13. A] Doore in.
+
+p. 384,
+l. 25. Second Folio _misprints_] rrue.
+
+P. 387,
+l. 13. A _adds_] For my Soune Clarke.
+
+
+END OF VOL. I.
+
+CAMBRIDGE: PRINTED BY JOHN CLAY, M.A. AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Beaumont & Fletcher's Works (1 of 10)
+- The Custom of the Country, by Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher
+Edited by Arnold Glover
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12039 ***
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+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
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+
+No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in
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+this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright
+status under the laws that apply to them.
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+++ b/README.md
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #12039 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/12039)
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Beaumont & Fletcher's Works (1 of 10) -
+The Custom of the Country, by Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher
+Edited by Arnold Glover
+
+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: Beaumont & Fletcher's Works (1 of 10) - The Custom of the Country
+
+Author: Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher
+Edited by Arnold Glover
+
+Release Date: April 15, 2004 [EBook #12039]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BEAUMONT & FLETCHER V1 ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Charles M. Bidwell and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE CUSTOM OF THE COUNTRY.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+Persons Represented in the Play.
+
+Count Clodio, _Governour and a dishonourable pursuer of_ Zenocia.
+Manuel du Sosa, _Governour of_ Lisbon, _and Brother to_ Guiomar.
+Arnoldo, _A Gentleman contracted to_ Zenocia.
+Rutilio, _A merry Gentleman Brother to_ Arnoldo.
+Charino, _Father to_ Zenocia.
+Duarte, _Son to_ Guiomar, _a Gentleman well qualified but vain glorious_.
+Alonzo, _a young_ Portugal _Gentleman, enemy to_ Duarte.
+Leopold, _a Sea Captain Enamour'd on_ Hippolyta.
+Zabulon, _a_ Jew, _servant to_ Hippolyta.
+Jaques, _servant to_ Sulpitia.
+Doctor.
+Chirurgion.
+Officers.
+Guard.
+Page.
+Bravo.
+Knaves, _of the Male Stewes_.
+Servants.
+
+_WOMEN._
+
+Zenocia, _Mistress to_ Arnoldo, _and a chaste Wife_.
+Guiomar, _a vertuous Lady, Mother to_ Duarte.
+Hippolyta, _a rich Lady, wantonly in Love with_ Arnoldo.
+Sulpitia, _a Bawd, Mistress of the Male Stewes_.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+_The Scene sometimes_ Lisbon, _sometimes_ Italy.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+The principal Actors were
+_Joseph Taylor_. _Robert Benfeild_.
+_John Lowin_. _William Eglestone_.
+_Nicholas Toolie_. _Richard Sharpe_.
+_John Underwood_. _Thomas Holcomb_.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+_Actus primus. Scena prima_.
+
+
+_Enter_ Rutilio, _and_ Arnold[o].
+
+_Rut._ Why do you grieve thus still?
+
+_Arn._ 'Twould melt a Marble,
+And tame a Savage man, to feel my fortune.
+
+_Rut._ What fortune? I have liv'd this thirty years,
+And run through all these follies you call fortunes,
+Yet never fixt on any good and constant,
+But what I made myself: why should I grieve then
+At that I may mould any way?
+
+_Arn._ You are wide still.
+
+_Rut._ You love a Gentlewoman, a young handsom woman,
+I have lov'd a thosand, not so few.
+
+_Arn._ You are dispos'd.
+
+_Rut._ You hope to Marry her; 'tis a lawful calling
+And prettily esteem'd of, but take heed then,
+Take heed dear Brother of a stranger fortune
+Than e're you felt yet; fortune my foe is a friend to it.
+
+_Arn._ 'Tis true I love, dearly, and truly love,
+A noble, vertuous, and most beauteous Maid,
+And am belov'd again.
+
+_Rut._ That's too much o' Conscience,
+To love all these would run me out o' my wits.
+
+_Arn._ Prethee give ear, I am to Marry her.
+
+_Rut._ Dispatch it then, and I'le go call the Piper.
+
+_Arn._ But O the wicked Custom of this Country,
+The barbarous, most inhumane, damned Custom.
+
+_Rut_. 'Tis true, to marry is a Custom
+I' the world; for look you Brother,
+Wou'd any man stand plucking for the Ace of Harts,
+With one pack of Cards all dayes on's life?
+
+_Arn._ You do not
+Or else you purpose not to understand me.
+
+_Rut._ Proceed, I will give ear.
+
+_Arn._ They have a Custom
+In this most beastly Country, out upon't.
+
+_Rut._ Let's hear it first.
+
+_Arn._ That when a Maid is contracted
+And ready for the tye o'th' Church, the Governour,
+He that commands in chief, must have her Maiden-head,
+Or Ransom it for mony at his pleasure.
+
+_Rut._ How might a man atchieve that place? a rare Custom!
+An admirable rare Custom: and none excepted?
+
+_Arn._ None, none.
+
+_Rut._ The rarer still: how could I lay about me,
+In this rare Office? are they born to it, or chosen?
+
+_Arn._ Both equal damnable.
+
+_Rut._ Me thinks both excellent,
+Would I were the next heir.
+
+_Arn._ To this mad fortune
+Am I now come, my Marriage is proclaim'd,
+And nothing can redeem me from this mischief.
+
+_Rut._ She's very young.
+
+_Arn._ Yes.
+
+_Rut._ And fair I dare proclaim her,
+Else mine eyes fail.
+
+_Arn._ Fair as the bud unblasted.
+
+_Rut._ I cannot blame him then, if 'twere mine own case,
+I would not go an Ace less.
+
+_Arn._ Fye _Rutilio_,
+Why do you make your brothers misery
+Your sport and game?
+
+_Rut._ There is no pastime like it.
+
+_Arn._ I look'd for your advice, your timely Counsel,
+How to avoid this blow, not to be mockt at,
+And my afflictions jeer'd.
+
+_Rut._ I tell thee _Arnoldo_,
+An thou wert my Father, as thou art but my Brother,
+My younger Brother too, I must be merry.
+And where there is a wench yet can, a young wench,
+A handsome wench, and sooner a good turn too,
+An I were to be hang'd, thus must I handle it.
+But you shall see Sir, I can change this habit
+To do you any service; advise what you please,
+And see with what Devotion I'le attend it?
+But yet me thinks, I am taken with this Custom,
+
+[_Enter_ Charino _and_ Zenocia.
+
+And could pretend to th' place.
+
+_Arn._ Draw off a little;
+Here comes my Mistress and her Father.
+
+_Rut._ A dainty wench!
+Wou'd I might farm his Custom.
+
+_Char._ My dear Daughter,
+Now to bethink your self of new advice
+Will be too late, later this timeless sorrow,
+No price, nor prayers, can infringe the fate
+Your beauty hath cast on yo[u], my best _Zenocia_,
+Be rul'd by me, a Fathers care directs ye,
+Look on the Count, look chearfully and sweetly;
+What though he have the power to possess ye,
+To pluck your Maiden honour, and then slight ye
+By Custom unresistible to enjoy you;
+Yet my sweet Child, so much your youth and goodness,
+The beauty of your soul, and Saint-like Modesty,
+Have won upon his mild mind, so much charm'd him,
+That all power laid aside, what Law allows him,
+Or sudden fires, kindled from those bright eyes,
+He sues to be your servant, fairly, nobly
+For ever to be tyed your faithful Husband:
+Consider my best child.
+
+_Zeno._ I have considered.
+
+_Char._ The blessedness that this breeds too, consider
+Besides your Fathers Honour, your own peace,
+The banishment for ever of this Custom,
+This base and barbarous use, for after once
+He has found the happiness of holy Marriage,
+And what it is to grow up with one Beauty,
+How he will scorn and kick at such an heritage
+Left him by lust and lewd progenitors.
+All Virgins too, shall bless your name, shall Saint it,
+And like so many Pilgrims go to your shrine,
+When time has turn'd your beauty into ashes,
+Fill'd with your pious memory.
+
+_Zeno._ Good Father
+Hide not that bitter Pill I loath to swallow
+In such sweet words.
+
+_Char._ The Count's a handsome Gentleman,
+And having him, y'are certain of a fortune,
+A high and noble fortune to attend you:
+Where if you fling your Love upon this stranger
+This young _Arnoldo_, not knowing from what place
+Or honourable strain of blood he is sprung, you venture
+All your own sweets, and my long cares to nothing,
+Nor are you certain of his faith; why may not that
+Wander as he does, every where?
+
+_Zen._ No more Sir;
+I must not hear, I dare not hear him wrong'd thus,
+Vertue is never wounded, but I suffer.
+'Tis an ill Office in your age, a poor one,
+To judge thus weakly: and believe your self too,
+A weaker, to betray your innocent Daughter,
+To his intemp'rate, rude, and wild embraces,
+She hates as Heaven hates falshood.
+
+_Rut._ A good wench,
+She sticks close to you Sir.
+
+_Zeno._ His faith uncertain?
+The nobleness his vertue springs from, doubted?
+D'ye doubt it is day now? or when your body's perfect,
+Your stomach's well dispos'd, your pulse's temperate,
+D'ye doubt you are in health? I tell you Father,
+One hour of this mans goodness, this mans Nobleness
+Put in the Scale, against the Counts whole being,
+Forgive his lusts too, which are half his life,
+He could no more endure to hold weight with him;
+_Arnoldo's_ very looks, are fair examples;
+His common and indifferent actions,
+Rules and strong ties of vertue: he has my first love,
+To him in sacred vow I have given this body,
+In him my mind inhabits.
+
+_Rut._ Good wench still.
+
+_Zeno._ And till he fling me off, as undeserving,
+Which I confess I am, of such a blessing,
+But would be loth to find it so--
+
+_Arn._ O never;
+Never my happy Mistress, never, never,
+When your poor servant lives but in your favour,
+One foot i'th' grave the other shall not linger.
+What sacrifice of thanks, what age of service,
+What danger, of more dreadful look than death,
+What willing Martyrdom to crown me constant
+May merit such a goodness, such a sweetness?
+A love so Nobly great, no power can ruine;
+Most blessed Maid go on, the Gods that gave this,
+This pure unspotted love, the Child of Heaven,
+In their own goodness, must preserve and save it,
+And raise you a reward beyond our recompence.
+
+_Zeno._ I ask but you, a pure Maid to possess,
+And then they have crown'd my wishes: If I fall then
+Go seek some better love, mine will debase you.
+
+_Rut._ A pretty innocent fool; well, Governour,
+Though I think well of your custom, and could wish my self
+For this night in your place, heartily wish it:
+Yet if you play not fair play and above board too,
+I have a foolish gin here, I say no more;
+I'le tell you what, and if your honours guts are not inchanted.
+
+_Arn._ I should now chide you Sir, for so declining
+The goodness and the grace you have ever shew'd me,
+And your own vertue too, in seeking rashly
+To violate that love Heaven has appointed,
+To wrest your Daughters thoughts, part that affection
+That both our hearts have tyed, and seek to give it.
+
+_Rut._ To a wild fellow, that would weary her;
+A Cannibal, that feeds on the heads of Maids,
+Then flings their bones and bodies to the Devil,
+Would any man of discretion venture such a gristle,
+To the rude clawes of such a _Cat-a-mountain_?
+You had better tear her between two Oaks, a Town Bull
+Is a meer _Stoick_ to this fellow, a grave Philosopher,
+And a _Spanish_ Jennet, a most vertuous Gentleman.
+
+_Arn._ Does this seem handsome Sir?
+
+_Rut._ Though I confess
+Any man would desire to have her, and by any means,
+At any rate too, yet that this common Hangman,
+That hath whipt off the heads of a thousand maids already,
+That he should glean the Harvest, sticks in my stomach:
+This Rogue breaks young wenches to the Saddle,
+And teaches them to stumble ever after;
+That he should have her? for my Brother now
+That is a handsome young fellow; and well thought on,
+And will deal tenderly in the business;
+Or for my self that have a reputation,
+And have studied the conclusions of these causes,
+And know the perfect manage, I'le tell you old Sir,
+If I should call you wise Sir, I should bely you,
+This thing, you study to betray your child to,
+This Maiden-monger. When you have done your best,
+And think you have fixt her in the point of honour,
+Who do you think you have tyed her to? a Surgeon,
+I must confess an excellent dissector,
+One that has cut up more young tender Lamb-pies--
+
+_Char_. What I spake Gentlemen, was meer compulsion,
+No Fathers free-will, nor did I touch your person
+With any edge of spight; or strain your loves
+With any base, or hir'd perswasions;
+Witness these tears, how well I wisht your fortunes. [_Exit._
+
+_Rut_. There's some grace in thee yet, you are determined
+To marry this Count, Lady.
+
+_Zen_. Marry him _Rutilio_?
+
+_Rut_. Marry him, and lye with him I mean.
+
+_Zen_. You cannot mean that,
+If you be a true Gentleman, you dare not,
+The Brother to this man, and one that loves him;
+I'le marry the Devil first.
+
+_Rut_. A better choice
+And lay his horns by, a handsomer bed-fellow,
+A cooler o' my conscience.
+
+_Arn_. Pray let me ask you;
+And my dear Mistris, be not angry with me
+For what I shall propound, I am confident,
+No promise, nor no power, can force your love,
+I mean in way of marriage, never stir you,
+Nor to forget my faith, no state can wound you.
+But for this Custom, which this wretched country
+Hath wrought into a law, and must be satisfied;
+Where all the pleas of honour are but laught at,
+And modesty regarded as a may-game,
+What shall be here considered? power we have none,
+To make resistance, nor policie to cross it:
+'Tis held Religion too, to pay this duty.
+
+_Zeno_. I'le dye an _Atheist_ then.
+
+_Arn_. My noblest Mistris,
+Not that I wish it so, but say it were so,
+Say you did render up part of your honour,
+For whilst your will is clear, all cannot perish;
+Say for one night you entertain'd this monster,
+Should I esteem you worse, forc'd to this render?
+Your mind I know is pure, and full as beauteous;
+After this short eclipse, you would rise again,
+And shaking off that cloud, spread all your lustre.
+
+_Zeno_. Who made you witty, to undoe your self, Sir?
+Or are you loaden, with the love I bring you,
+And fain would fling that burthen on another?
+Am I grown common in your eyes _Arnoldo_?
+Old, or unworthy of your fellowship?
+D'ye think because a woman, I must err,
+And therefore rather wish that fall before-hand
+Coloured with Custom, not to be resisted?
+D'ye love as painters doe, only some pieces,
+Some certain handsome touches of your Mistris,
+And let the mind pass by you, unexamined?
+Be not abus'd; with what the maiden vessel
+Is seasoned first, you understand the proverb.
+
+_Rut_. I am afraid, this thing will make me vertuous.
+
+_Zeno_. Should you lay by the least part of that love
+Y'ave sworn is mine, your youth and faith has given me,
+To entertain another, nay a fairer,
+And make the case thus desp'rate, she must dy else;
+D'ye think I would give way, or count this honest?
+Be not deceiv'd, these eyes should never see you more,
+This tongue forget to name you, and this heart
+Hate you, as if you were born, my full _Antipathie_.
+_Empire_ and more imperious love, alone
+Rule, and admit no rivals: the purest springs
+When they are courted by lascivious land-floods,
+Their maiden pureness, and their coolness perish.
+And though they purge again to their first beauty,
+The sweetness of their taste is clean departed.
+I must have all or none; and am not worthy
+Longer the noble name of wife, _Arnoldo_,
+Than I can bring a whole heart pure and handsom.
+
+_Arnol_. I never shall deserve you: not to thank you;
+You are so heavenly good, no man can reach you:
+I am sorrie I spake so rashly, 'twas but to try you.
+
+_Rut_. You might have tryed a thousand women so,
+And 900, fourscore and 19 should ha' followed your counsel.
+Take heed o' clapping spurrs to such free cattell.
+
+_Arn_. We must bethink us suddenly and constantly,
+And wisely too, we expect no common danger.
+
+_Zen_. Be most assur'd, I'le dye first.
+
+_Enter_ Clodio, _and_ Guard.
+
+_Rut_. An't come to that once,
+The Devil pick his bones, that dyes a coward,
+I'le jog along with you, here comes the Stallion,
+How smug he looks upon the imagination
+Of what he hopes to act! pox on your kidneys;
+How they begin to melt! how big he bears,
+Sure he will leap before us all: what a sweet company
+Of rogues and panders wait upon his lewdness!
+Plague of your chops, you ha' more handsome bitts,
+Than a hundred honester men, and more deserving.
+How the dogg leers.
+
+_Clod_. You need not now be jealous,
+I speak at distance to your wife, but when the Priest has done,
+We shall grow nearer, and more familiar.
+
+_Rut_. I'le watch you for that trick, baboon, I'le
+Smoke you: the rogue sweats, as if he had eaten
+Grains, he broyles, if I do come to the
+Basting of you.
+
+_Arno_. Your Lordship
+May happily speak this, to fright a stranger,
+But 'tis not in your honour, to perform it;
+The Custom of this place, if such there be,
+At best most damnable, may urge you to it,
+But if you be an honest man you hate it,
+How ever I will presently prepare
+To make her mine, and most undoubtedly
+Believe you are abus'd, this custome feign'd too,
+And what you now pretend, most fair and vertuous.
+
+_Clod_. Go and believe, a good belief does well Sir;
+And you Sir, clear the place, but leave her here.
+
+_Arn_. Your Lordships pleasure.
+
+_Clod_. That anon _Arnoldo_,
+This is but talk.
+
+_Rut_. Shall we goe off?
+
+_Arn_. By any means,
+I know she has pious thoughts enough to guard her:
+Besides, here's nothing due to him till the tye be done,
+Nor dare he offer.
+
+_Rut_. Now do I long to worry him:
+Pray have a care to the main chance.
+
+_Zen_. Pray Sir, fear not. [_Exit_ Ar. _and_ Rut.
+
+_Clod_. Now, what say you to me?
+
+_Zen_. Sir it becomes
+The modestie, that maids are ever born with,
+To use few words.
+
+_Clod_. Do you see nothing in me?
+Nothing to catch your eyes, nothing of wonder
+The common mould of men, come short, and want in?
+Do you read no future fortune for your self here?
+And what a happiness it may be to you,
+To have him honour you, all women aim at?
+To have him love you Lady, that man love you,
+The best, and the most beauteous have run mad for?
+Look and be wise, you have a favour offer'd you
+I do not every day propound to women;
+You are a prettie one; and though each hour
+I am glutted with the sacrifice of beautie,
+I may be brought, as you may handle it,
+To cast so good a grace and liking on you.
+You understand, come kiss me, and be joyfull,
+I give you leave.
+
+_Zen_. Faith Sir, 'twill not shew handsome;
+Our sex is blushing, full of fear, unskil'd too
+In these alarms.
+
+_Clod_. Learn then and be perfect.
+
+_Zen_. I do beseech your honour pardon me,
+And take some skilfull one can hold you play,
+I am a fool.
+
+_Clod_. I tell thee maid I love thee,
+Let that word make thee happie, so far love thee,
+That though I may enjoy thee without ceremony,
+I will descend so low, to marry thee,
+Me thinks I see the race that shall spring from us,
+Some Princes, some great Souldiers.
+
+_Zen_. I am afraid
+Your honour's couzen'd in this calculation;
+For certain, I shall ne're have a child by you.
+
+_Clod_. Why?
+
+_Zen_. Because I must not think to marry you,
+I dare not Sir, the step betwixt your honour,
+And my poor humble State.
+
+_Clod_. I will descend to thee,
+And buoy thee up.
+
+_Zen_. I'le sink to th' Center first.
+Why would your Lordship marry, and confine that pleasure
+You ever have had freely cast upon you?
+Take heed my Lord, this marrying is a mad matter,
+Lighter a pair of shackles will hang on you,
+And quieter a quartane feaver find you.
+If you wed me I must enjoy you only,
+Your eyes must be called home, your thoughts in cages,
+To sing to no ears then but mine; your heart bound,
+The custom, that your youth was ever nurst in,
+Must be forgot, I shall forget my duty else,
+And how that will appear--
+
+_Clod_. Wee'l talk of that more.
+
+_Zen_. Besides I tell ye, I am naturally,
+As all young women are, that shew like handsome,
+Exceeding proud, being commended, monstrous.
+Of an unquiet temper, seldom pleas'd,
+Unless it be with infinite observance,
+Which you were never bred to; once well angred,
+As every cross in us, provokes that passion,
+And like a Sea, I roule, toss, and chafe a week after.
+And then all mischief I can think upon,
+Abusing of your bed the least and poorest,
+I tell you what you'le finde, and in these fitts,
+This little beauty you are pleased to honour,
+Will be so chang'd, so alter'd to an ugliness,
+To such a vizard, ten to one, I dye too,
+Take't then upon my death you murder'd me.
+
+_Clod_. Away, away fool, why dost thou proclame these
+To prevent that in me, thou hast chosen in another?
+
+_Zen_. Him I have chosen, I can rule and master,
+Temper to what I please, you are a great one
+Of a strong will to bend, I dare not venture.
+Be wise my Lord, and say you were well counsel'd,
+Take mony for my ransom, and forget me,
+'Twill be both safe, and noble for your honour,
+And wheresoever my fortunes shall conduct me,
+So worthy mentions I shall render of you,
+So vertuous and so fair.
+
+_Clod_. You will not marrie me?
+
+_Zen_. I do beseech your honour, be not angry
+At what I say, I cannot love ye, dare not;
+But set a ransom, for the flowr you covet.
+
+_Clod_. No mony, nor no prayers, shall redeem that,
+Not all the art you have.
+
+_Zen_. Set your own price Sir.
+
+_Clod_. Goe to your wedding, never kneel to me,
+When that's done, you are mine, I will enjoy you:
+Your tears do nothing, I will not lose my custom
+To cast upon my self an Empires fortune.
+
+_Zen_. My mind shall not pay this custom, cruel man. [_Ex_.
+
+_Clod_. Your body will content me: I'le look for you. [_Ex_.
+
+_Enter_ Charino, _and servants in blacks. Covering the
+place with blacks_.
+
+_Char_. Strew all your withered flowers, your Autumn sweets
+By the hot Sun ravisht of bud and beauty
+Thus round about her Bride-bed, hang those blacks there
+The emblemes of her honour lost; all joy
+That leads a Virgin to receive her lover,
+Keep from this place, all fellow-maids that bless her,
+And blushing do unloose her Zone, keep from her:
+No merry noise nor lusty songs be heard here,
+Nor full cups crown'd with wine make the rooms giddy,
+This is no masque of mirth, but murdered honour.
+Sing mournfully that sad Epithalamion
+I gave thee now: and prethee let thy lute weep.
+
+Song, Dance. _Enter_ Rutilio.
+
+_Rut_. How now, what livery's this? do you call this a wedding?
+This is more like a funeral.
+
+_Char_. It is one,
+And my poor Daughter going to her grave,
+To his most loath'd embraces that gapes for her.
+Make the Earles bed readie, is the marriage done Sir?
+
+_Rut_. Yes they are knit; but must this slubberdegullion
+Have her maiden-head now?
+
+[_Char_.] There's no avoiding it.
+
+_Rut_. And there's the scaffold where she must lose it.
+
+[_Char_.] The bed Sir.
+
+_Rut_. No way to wipe his mouldy chaps?
+
+_Char_. That we know.
+
+_Rut_. To any honest well-deserving fellow,
+And 'twere but to a merry Cobbler, I could sit still now,
+I love the game so well; but that this puckfist,
+This universal rutter--fare ye well Sir;
+And if you have any good prayers, put 'em forward,
+There may be yet a remedie.
+
+_Char_. I wish it, [_Exit_ Rut.
+And all my best devotions offer to it.
+
+_Enter_ Clodio, _and_ Guard.
+
+_Clod_. Now is this tye dispatch'd?
+
+_Char_. I think it be Sir.
+
+_Clod_. And my bed ready?
+
+_Char_. There you may quickly find Sir,
+Such a loath'd preparation.
+
+_Clod_. Never grumble,
+Nor fling a discontent upon my pleasure,
+It must and shall be done: give me some wine,
+And fill it till it leap upon my lips: [_wine_
+Here's to the foolish maidenhead you wot of,
+The toy I must take pains for.
+
+_Char_. I beseech your Lordship
+Load not a Fathers love.
+
+_Clod_. Pledge it _Charino_,
+Or by my life I'le make thee pledge thy last,
+And be sure she be a maid, a perfect Virgin,
+(I will not have my expectation dull'd)
+Or your old pate goes off. I am hot and fiery,
+And my bloud beats alarms through my body,
+And fancie high. You of my guard retire,
+And let me hear no noise about the lodging
+But musick and sweet ayres, now fetch your Daughter,
+And bid the coy wench put on all her beauties,
+All her enticements, out-blush damask Roses,
+And dim the breaking East with her bright Crystals.
+I am all on fire, away.
+
+_Char_. And I am frozen. [_Exit_.
+
+_Enter_ Zenocia _with Bow and Quiver, an Arrow bent_,
+Arnoldo _and_ Rutilio _after her, arm'd_.
+
+_Zen_. Come fearless on.
+
+_Rut_. Nay an I budge from thee
+Beat me with durty sticks.
+
+_Clod_. What Masque is this?
+What pretty fancy to provoke me high?
+The beauteous Huntress, fairer far, and sweeter;
+Diana shewes an Ethiop to this beauty
+Protected by two Virgin Knights.
+
+_Rut_. That's a lye,
+A loud one, if you knew as much as I do,
+The Guard's dispers'd.
+
+_Arn_. Fortune I hope invites us.
+
+_Clod_. I can no longer hold, she pulls my heart from me.
+
+_Zen_. Stand, and stand fixt, move not a foot, nor speak not,
+For if thou doest, upon this point thy death sits.
+Thou miserable, base, and sordid lecher,
+Thou scum of noble blood, repent and speedily,
+Repent thy thousand thefts, from helpless Virgins,
+Their innocence betrayed to thy embraces.
+
+_Arn_. The base dishonour, that thou doest to strangers,
+In glorying to abuse the Laws of Marriage,
+Thy Infamy thou hast flung upon thy Country,
+In nourishing this black and barbarous Custom.
+
+_Clod_. My Guard.
+
+_Arn_. One word more, and thou diest.
+
+_Rut_. One syllable
+That tends to any thing, but I beseech you,
+And as y'are Gentlemen tender my case,
+And I'le thrust my Javeling down thy throat.
+Thou Dog-whelp, thou, pox upon thee, what
+Should I call thee, Pompion,
+Thou kiss my Lady? thou scour her Chamber-pot:
+Thou have a Maiden-head? a mottly Coat,
+You great blind fool, farewel and be hang'd to ye,
+Lose no time Lady.
+
+_Arn_. Pray take your pleasure Sir,
+And so we'l take our leaves.
+
+_Zen_. We are determined,
+Dye, before yield.
+
+_Arn_. Honour, and a fair grave.
+
+_Zen_. Before a lustful Bed, so for our fortunes.
+
+_Rut_. _Du cat awhee_, good Count, cry, prethee cry,
+O what a wench hast thou lost! cry you great booby. [_Exe_.
+
+_Enter_ Charino.
+
+_Clod_. And is she gone then, am I dishonoured thus,
+Cozened and baffl'd? my Guard there, no man answer?
+My Guard I say, sirrah you knew of this plot;
+Where are my Guard? I'le have your life you villain,
+You politick old Thief.
+
+_Char_. Heaven send her far enough,
+
+_Enter Guard_.
+
+And let me pay the ransom.
+
+_Guard_. Did your honour call us?
+
+_Clod_. Post every way, and presently recover
+The two strange Gentlemen, and the fair Lady.
+
+_Guard_. This day was Married Sir?
+
+_Clod_. The same.
+
+_Guard_. We saw 'em.
+Making with all main speed to th' Port.
+
+_Clod_. Away villains. [_Exit Guard_.
+Recover her, or I shall dye; deal truly,
+Didst not thou know?
+
+_Char_. By all that's good I did not.
+If your honour mean their flight, to say I grieve for that,
+Will be to lye; you may handle me as you please.
+
+_Clod_. Be sure, with all the cruelty, with all the rigor,
+For thou hast rob'd me villain of a treasure.
+
+_Enter Guard_.
+
+How now?
+
+_Guard_. They're all aboard, a Bark rode ready for 'em,
+And now are under Sail, and past recovery.
+
+_Clod_. Rig me a Ship with all the speed that may be,
+I will not lose her: thou her most false Father,
+Shalt go along; and if I miss her, hear me,
+A whole day will I study to destroy thee.
+
+_Char_. I shall be joyful of it; and so you'l find me.
+
+[_Exeunt omnes_.
+
+
+
+
+_Actus Secundus. Scena Prima_.
+
+
+_Enter_ Manuel du Sosa, _and_ Guiomar.
+
+_Man_. I Hear and see too much of him, and that
+Compels me Madam, though unwillingly,
+To wish I had no Uncles part in him,
+And much I fear, the comfort of a Son
+You will not long enjoy.
+
+_Gui_. 'Tis not my fault,
+And therefore from his guilt my innocence
+Cannot be tainted, since his Fathers death,
+(Peace to his soul) a Mothers prayers and care
+Were never wanting, in his education.
+His Child-hood I pass o're, as being brought up
+Under my wing; and growing ripe for study,
+I overcame the tenderness, and joy
+I had to look upon him, and provided
+The choicest Masters, and of greatest name
+Of _Salamanca_, in all liberal Arts.
+
+_Man_. To train his youth up.
+I must witness that.
+
+_Gui_. How there he prospered to the admiration
+Of all that knew him, for a general Scholar,
+Being one of note, before he was a man,
+Is still remembred in that _Academy_,
+From thence I sent him to the Emperours Court,
+Attended like his Fathers Son, and there
+Maintain'd him, in such bravery and height,
+As did become a Courtier.
+
+_Man_. 'Twas that spoil'd him, my Nephew had been happy.
+The Court's a School indeed, in which some few
+Learn vertuous principles, but most forget
+What ever they brought thither good and honest.
+Trifling is there in practice, serious actions
+Are obsolete and out of use, my Nephew
+Had been a happy man, had he ne're known
+What's there in grace and fashion.
+
+_Gui_. I have heard yet,
+That while he liv'd in Court, the Emperour
+Took notice of his carriage and good parts,
+The Grandees did not scorn his company,
+And of the greatest Ladies he was held
+A compleat Gentleman.
+
+_Man_. He indeed Daunc'd well;
+A turn o'th' Toe, with a lofty trick or two,
+To argue nimbleness, and a strong back,
+Will go far with a Madam: 'tis most true,
+That he's an excellent Scholar, and he knows it;
+An exact Courtier, and he knows that too;
+He has fought thrice, and come off still with honour,
+Which he forgets not.
+
+_Gui_. Nor have I much reason,
+To grieve his fortune that way.
+
+_Man_. You are mistaken,
+Prosperity does search a Gentlemans temper,
+More than his adverse fortune: I have known
+Many, and of rare parts from their success
+In private Duels, rais'd up to such a pride,
+And so transform'd from what they were, that all
+That lov'd them truly, wish'd they had fallen in them.
+I need not write examples, in your Son
+'Tis too apparent; for e're _Don Duarte_
+Made tryal of his valour, he indeed was
+Admired for civil courtesie, but now
+He's swoln so high, out of his own assurance,
+Of what he dares do, that he seeks occasions,
+Unjust occasions, grounded on blind passion,
+Ever to be in quarrels, and this makes him
+Shunn'd of all fair Societies.
+
+_Gui_. Would it were
+In my weak power to help it: I will use
+With my entreaties th' Authority of a Mother,
+As you may of an Uncle, and enlarge it
+With your command, as being a Governour
+To the great King in _Lisbon.
+
+Enter_ Duarte _and his Page_.
+
+_Man_. Here he comes.
+We are unseen, observe him.
+
+_Dua_. Boy.
+
+_Page_. My Lord.
+
+_Dua_. What saith the _Spanish_ Captain that I struck,
+To my bold challenge?
+
+_Page_. He refus'd to read it.
+
+_Dua_. Why didst not leave it there?
+
+_Page_. I did my Lord,
+But to no purpose, for he seems more willing
+To sit down with the wrongs, than to repair
+His honour by the sword; he knows too well,
+That from your Lordship nothing can be got
+But more blows, and disgraces.
+
+_Dua_. He's a wretch,
+A miserable wretch, and all my fury
+Is lost upon him; holds the Mask, appointed
+I'th' honour of _Hippolyta_?
+
+_Page_. 'Tis broke off.
+
+_Dua_. The reason?
+
+_Page_. This was one, they heard your Lordship
+Was by the Ladies choice to lead the Dance,
+And therefore they, too well assur'd how far
+You would outshine 'em, gave it o're and said,
+They would not serve for foiles to set you off.
+
+_Dua_. They at their best are such, and ever shall be
+Where I appear.
+
+_Man_. Do you note his modesty?
+
+_Dua_. But was there nothing else pretended?
+
+_Page_. Yes,
+Young Don _Alonzo_, the great Captains Nephew,
+Stood on comparisons.
+
+_Dua_. With whom?
+
+_Page_. With you,
+And openly profess'd that all precedence,
+His birth and state consider'd, was due to him,
+Nor were your Lordship to contend with one
+So far above you.
+
+_Dua_. I look down upon him
+With such contempt and scorn, as on my slave,
+He's a name only, and all good in him
+He must derive from his great grandsires Ashes,
+For had not their victorious acts bequeath'd
+His titles to him, and wrote on his forehead,
+This is a Lord, he had liv'd unobserv'd
+By any man of mark, and died as one
+Amongst the common route. Compare with me?
+'Tis Gyant-like ambition; I know him,
+And know my self, that man is truly noble,
+And he may justly call that worth his own,
+Which his deserts have purchas'd, I could wish
+My birth were more obscure, my friends and kinsmen
+Of lesser power, or that my provident Father
+Had been like to that riotous Emperour
+That chose his belly for his only heir;
+For being of no family then, and poor
+My vertues wheresoe'r I liv'd, should make
+That kingdom my inheritance.
+
+_Gui_. Strange self Love!
+
+_Dua_. For if I studied the Countries Laws,
+I should so easily sound all their depth,
+And rise up such a wonder, that the pleaders,
+That now are in most practice and esteem,
+Should starve for want of Clients: if I travell'd,
+Like wise _Ulysses_ to see men and manners,
+I would return in act, more knowing, than
+_Homer_ could fancy him; if a Physician,
+So oft I would restore death-wounded men,
+That where I liv'd, _Galen_ should not be nam'd,
+And he that joyn'd again the scatter'd limbs
+Of torn _Hippolytus_ should be forgotten.
+I could teach _Ovid_ courtship, how to win
+A _Julia_, and enjoy her, though her Dower
+Were all the Sun gives light to: and for arms
+Were the _Persian_ host that drank up Rivers, added
+To the _Turks_ present powers, I could direct,
+Command, and Marshal them.
+
+_Man_. And yet you know not
+To rule your self, you would not to a boy else
+Like _Plautus_ Braggart boast thus.
+
+_Dua_. All I speak,
+In act I can make good.
+
+_Gui_. Why then being Master
+Of such and so good parts do you destroy them,
+With self opinion, or like a rich miser,
+Hoard up the treasures you possess, imparting
+Nor to your self nor others, the use of them?
+They are to you but like inchanted viands,
+On which you seem to feed, yet pine with hunger;
+And those so rare perfections in my Son
+Which would make others happy, render me
+A wretched Mother.
+
+_Man_. You are too insolent.
+And those too many excellencies, that feed
+Your pride, turn to a Pleurisie, and kill
+That which should nourish vertue; dare you think
+All blessings are confer'd on you alone?
+Y'are grosly cousen'd; there's no good in you,
+Which others have not: are you a Scholar? so
+Are many, and as knowing: are you valiant?
+Waste not that courage then in braules, but spend it
+In the Wars, in service of your King and Country.
+
+_Dua_. Yes, so I might be General, no man lives
+That's worthy to command me.
+
+_Man_. Sir, in _Lisbon_
+I am: and you shall know it; every hour
+I am troubled with complaints of your behaviour
+From men of all conditions, and all sexes.
+And my authority, which you presume
+Will bear you out, in that you are my Nephew,
+No longer shall protect you, for I vow
+Though all that's past I pardon, I will punish
+The next fault with as much severity
+As if you were a stranger, rest assur'd on't.
+
+_Gui_. And by that love you should bear, or that duty
+You owe a Mother, once more I command you
+To cast this haughtiness off; which if you do,
+All that is mine, is yours, if not, expect
+My prayers, and vows, for your conversion only,
+But never means nor favour. [_Ex_. Manuel _and_ Guiomar.
+
+_Dua_. I am Tutor'd
+As if I were a child still, the base Peasants
+That fear, and envy my great worth, have done this;
+But I will find them out, I will o'boord
+Get my disguise; I have too long been idle,
+Nor will I curb my spirit, I was born free,
+And will pursue the course best liketh me. [_Exeunt_.
+
+_Enter_ Leopold, Sailers, _and_ Zenocia.
+
+_Leop_. Divide the spoil amongst you, this fair Captive
+I only challenge for my self.
+
+_Sail_. You have won her
+And well deserve her: twenty years I have liv'd
+A Burgess of the Sea, and have been present
+At many a desperate fight, but never saw
+So small a Bark with such incredible valour
+So long defended, and against such odds,
+And by two men scarce arm'd too.
+
+_Leop_. 'Twas a wonder.
+And yet the courage they exprest being taken,
+And their contempt of death wan more upon me
+Than all they did, when they were free: me thinks
+I see them yet when they were brought aboard us,
+Disarm'd and ready to be put in fetters
+How on the suddain, as if they had sworn
+Never to taste the bread of servitude,
+Both snatching up their swords, and from this Virgin,
+Taking a farewel only with their eyes,
+They leapt into the Sea.
+
+_Sail_. Indeed 'twas rare.
+
+_Leop_. It wrought so much on me, that but I fear'd
+The great ship that pursued us, our own safety
+Hindring my charitable purpose to 'em,
+I would have took 'em up, and with their lives
+They should have had their liberties.
+
+_Zen_. O too late,
+For they are lost, for ever lost.
+
+_Leop_. Take comfort
+'Tis not impossible, but that they live yet,
+For when they left the ships, they were within
+A League o'th' shore, and with such strength and cunning
+They swimming, did delude the rising Billows,
+With one hand making way, and with the other,
+Their bloudy swords advanced, threatning the Sea-gods
+With war, unless they brought them safely off,
+That I am almost confident they live,
+And you again may see them.
+
+_Zen_. In that hope
+I brook a wretched being, till I am
+Made certain of their fortunes; but they dead,
+Death hath so many doors to let out life,
+I will not long survive them.
+
+_Leop_. Hope the best,
+And let the courteous usage you have found,
+Not usual in men of War perswade you
+To tell me your condition.
+
+_Zen_. You know it,
+A Captive, my fate and your power have made me,
+Such I am now, but what I was it skills not:
+For they being dead, in whom I only live,
+I dare not challenge Family, or Country,
+And therefore Sir enquire not, let it suffice,
+I am your servant, and a thankful servant
+(If you will call that so, which is but duty)
+I ever will be, and my honour safe,
+Which nobly hitherto ye have preserv'd,
+No slavery can appear in such a form,
+Which with a masculine constancy I will not
+Boldly look on and suffer.
+
+_Leop_. You mistake me:
+That you are made my prisoner, may prove
+The birth of your good fortune. I do find
+A winning language in your tongue and looks;
+Nor can a suit by you mov'd be deni'd,
+And therefore of a prisoner you must be
+The Victors advocate.
+
+_Zen._ To whom?
+
+_Leap._ A Lady:
+In whom all graces that can perfect beauty
+Are friendly met. I grant that you are fair:
+And had I not seen her before, perhaps
+I might have sought to you.
+
+_Zen._ This I hear gladly.
+
+_Leap._ To this incomparable Lady I will give you,
+(Yet being mine, you are already hers)
+And to serve her is more than to be free,
+At least I think so; and when you live with her,
+If you will please to think on him that brought you
+To such a happiness, for so her bounty
+Will make you think her service, you shall ever
+Make me at your devotion.
+
+_Zen._ All I can do,
+Rest you assur'd of.
+
+_Leap._ At night I'le present you,
+Till when I am your Guard.
+
+_Zen._ Ever your servant. [_Exeunt._
+
+ _Enter_ Arnoldo _and_ Rutilio.
+
+_Arn._ To what are we reserv'd?
+
+_Rut._ Troth 'tis uncertain,
+Drowning we have scap'd miraculously, and
+Stand fair for ought I know for hanging; mony
+We have none, nor e're are like to have,
+'Tis to be doubted: besides we are strangers,
+Wondrous hungry strangers; and charity
+Growing cold, and miracles ceasing,
+Without a Conjurers help, cannot find
+When we shall eat again.
+
+_Arn._ These are no wants
+If put in ballance with _Zenocias_ loss;
+In that alone all miseries are spoken:
+O my _Rutilio_, when I think on her,
+And that which she may suffer, being a Captive,
+Then I could curse my self, almost those powers
+That send me from the fury of the Ocean.
+
+_Rut_. You have lost a wife indeed, a fair and chast one,
+Two blessings, not found often in one woman;
+But she may be recovered, questionless
+The ship that took us was of _Portugal_,
+And here in _Lisbon_, by some means or other
+We may hear of her.
+
+_Arn_. In that hope I live.
+
+_Rut_. And so do I, but hope is a poor Sallad
+To dine and sup with, after a two dayes fast too,
+Have you no mony left?
+
+_Arn_. Not a Denier.
+
+_Rut_. Nor any thing to pawn? 'tis now in fashion,
+Having a Mistress, sure you should not be
+Without a neat Historical shirt.
+
+_Arn_. For shame
+Talk not so poorly.
+
+_Rut_. I must talk of that
+Necessity prompts us to, for beg I cannot,
+Nor am I made to creep in at a window,
+To filch to feed me, something must be done,
+And suddenly resolve on't.
+
+_Enter_ Zabulon _and a Servant_.
+
+_Arn_. What are these?
+
+_Rut_. One by his habit is a _Jew_.
+
+_Zab_. No more:
+Thou art sure that's he.
+
+_Ser_. Most certain.
+
+_Zab_. How long is it
+Since first she saw him?
+
+_Ser_. Some two hours.
+
+_Zab_. Be gone--let me alone to work him. [_Exit_ Ser.
+
+_Rut_. How he eyes you!
+Now he moves towards us, in the Devils name
+What would he with us?
+
+_Arn_. Innocence is bold:
+Nor can I fear.
+
+_Zab_. That you are poor and strangers,
+I easily perceive.
+
+_Rut_. But that you'l help us,
+Or any of your tribe, we dare not hope Sir.
+
+_Zab_. Why think you so?
+
+_Rut_. Because you are a _Jew_ Sir,
+And courtesies come sooner from the Devil
+Than any of your Nation.
+
+_Zab_. We are men,
+And have like you, compassion when we find
+Fit subjects for our bounty, and for proof
+That we dare give, and freely, not to you Sir,
+Pray spare your pains, there's gold, stand not amaz'd,
+'Tis current I assure you.
+
+_Rut_. Take it man,
+Sure thy good Angel is a _Jew_, and comes
+In his own shape to help thee: I could wish now
+Mine would appear too like a _Turk_.
+
+_Arn_. I thank you,
+But yet must tell you, if this be the Prologue
+To any bad act, you would have me practise,
+I must not take it.
+
+_Zab_. This is but the earnest
+Of [t]hat which is to follow, and the bond
+Which you must seal to for't, is your advancement,
+Fortune with all that's in her power to give,
+Offers her self up to you: entertain her,
+And that which Princes have kneel'd for in vain
+Presents it self to you.
+
+_Arn_. 'Tis above wonder.
+
+_Zab_. But far beneath the truth, in my relation
+Of what you shall possess, if you emb[r]ace it.
+There is an hour in each mans life appointed
+To make his happiness if then he seize it,
+And this, (in which, beyond all expectation,
+You are invited to your good) is yours,
+If you dare follow me, so, if not, hereafter
+Expect not the like offer. [_Exit_.
+
+_Arn_. 'Tis no vision.
+
+_Rut_. 'Tis gold I'm sure.
+
+_Arn_. We must like brothers share;
+There's for you.
+
+_Rut_. By this light I'm glad I have it:
+There are few Gallants, (for men may be such
+And yet want gold, yea and sometimes silver)
+But would receive such favours from the Devil,
+Though he appear'd like a Broker, and demanded
+Sixty i'th' hundred.
+
+_Arn_. Wherefore should I fear
+Some plot upon my life? 'tis now to me
+Not worth the keeping. I will follow him,
+Farewel, wish me good fortune, we shall meet
+Again I doubt not.
+
+_Rut_. Or I'le ne're trust _Jew_ more, [_Exit_ Arnoldo.
+Nor Christian for his sake--plague o' my stars,
+How long might I have walkt without a Cloak,
+Before I should have met with such a fortune?
+We elder Brothers, though we are proper men,
+_Ha' not the luck_, ha' too much beard, that spoils us;
+The smooth Chin carries all: what's here to do now?
+[_Manet_ Rutilio.
+
+_Enter_ Duarte, Alonzo, _and a_ Page.
+
+_Dua_. I'le take you as I find you.
+
+_Alon_. That were base--you see I am unarm'd.
+
+_Dua_. Out with your Bodkin
+Your Pocket-dagger, your Steletto, out with it,
+Or by this hand I'le kill you: such as you are
+Have studied the undoing of poor Cutlers,
+And made all manly weapons out of fashion:
+You carry Poniards to murder men,
+Yet dare not wear a sword to guard your Honour.
+
+_Rut_. That's true indeed: upon my life this gallant
+Is brib'd to repeal banisht swords.
+
+_Dua_. I'le shew you
+The difference now between a _Spanish_ Rapier
+And your pure Pisa.
+
+_Alon_. Let me fetch a sword,
+Upon mine honour I'le return.
+
+_Dua._ Not so Sir.
+
+_Alon._ Or lend me yours I pray you, and take this.
+
+_Rut._ To be disgrac'd as you are, no I thank you
+Spight of the fashion, while I live, I am
+Instructed to go arm'd: what folly 'tis
+For you that are a man, to put your self
+Into your enemies mercy.
+
+_Dua._ Yield it quickly
+Or I'le cut off your hand, and now disgrace you,
+Thus kick and baffle you: as you like this,
+You may again prefer complaints against me
+To my Uncle and my Mother, and then think
+To make it good with a Poniard.
+
+_Alon._ I am paid
+For being of the fashion.
+
+_Dua._ Get a sword,
+Then if you dare redeem your reputation:
+You know I am easily found: I'le add this to it
+To put you in mind.
+
+_Rut._ You are too insolent,
+And do insult too much on the advantage
+Of that which your unequal weapon gave you,
+More than your valour.
+
+_Dua._ This to me, you Peasant?
+Thou art not worthy of my foot poor fellow,
+'Tis scorn, not pity, makes me give thee life:
+Kneel down and thank me for't: how, do you stare?
+
+_Rut._ I have a sword Sir, you shall find, a good one;
+This is no stabbing guard.
+
+_Dua._ Wert thou thrice arm'd,
+Thus yet I durst attempt thee.
+
+_Rut._ Then have at you, [_Fight._
+I scorn to take blows.
+
+_Dua._ O I am slain. [_Falls._
+
+_Page._ Help! murther, murther!
+
+_Alon._ Shift for your self you are dead else,
+You have kill'd the Governou[r]s Nephew.
+
+_Page._ Raise the streets there.
+
+_Alon._ If once you are beset you cannot scape,
+Will you betray your self?
+
+_Rut_. Undone for ever. [_Exit_ Rut. _and_ Alonzo.
+
+_Enter_ Officers.
+
+_1 Off_. Who makes this out-cry?
+
+_Page_. O my Lord is murdered;
+This way he took, make after him,
+Help help there. [_Exit_ Page.
+
+_2 Offi_. 'Tis _Don Duarte_.
+
+_1 Offi_. Pride has got a fall,
+He was still in quarrels, scorn'd us Peace-makers,
+And all our Bill-authority, now h'as paid for't.
+You ha' met with your match Sir now, bring off his body
+And bear it to the Governour. Some pursue
+The murderer; yet if he scape, it skills not;
+Were I a Prince, I would reward him for't,
+He has rid the City of a turbulent beast,
+There's few will pity him: but for his Mother
+I truly grieve indeed, she's a good Lady. [_Exeunt_.
+
+_Enter_ Guiomar _and_ Servants.
+
+_Gui_. He's not i'th' house?
+
+_Ser. No Madam.
+
+_Gui_. Haste and seek him,
+Go all and every where, Pie not to bed
+Till you return him, take away the lights too,
+The Moon lends me too much, to find my fears
+And those devotions I am to pay
+Are written in my heart, not in this book, [_Kneel_.
+And I shall read them there without a Taper. [_Ex_. Ser.
+
+_Enter_ Rutilio.
+
+_Rut_. I am pursued; all the Ports are stopt too;
+Not any hope to escape, behind, before me,
+On either side I am beset, cursed fortune
+My enemie on the Sea, and on the Land too,
+Redeem'd from one affliction to another:
+Would I had made the greedy waves my tomb
+And dyed obscure, and innocent, not as Nero
+Smear'd o're with blood. Whither have my fears brought me?
+I am got into a house, the doors all open,
+This, by the largeness of the room, the hangings,
+And other rich adornments, glistring through
+The sable masque of night, sayes it belongs
+To one of means and rank: no servant stirring?
+Murmur nor whisper?
+
+_Guio._ Who's that?
+
+_Rut._ By the voice,
+This is a woman.
+
+_Guio._ _Stephana, Jaspe, Julia,_
+Who waits there?
+
+_Rut._ 'Tis the Lady of the house,
+I'le flie to her protection.
+
+_Guio._ Speak, what are you?
+
+_Rut._ Of all that ever breath'd, a man most wretched.
+
+_Guio._ I am sure you are a man of most ill manners,
+You could not with so little reverence else
+Press to my private chamber. Whither would you,
+Or what do you seek for?
+
+_Rut._ Gracious woman hear me;
+I am a stranger, and in that I answer
+All your demands, a most unfortunate stranger,
+That call'd unto it by my enemies pride,
+Have left him dead i'th' streets, Justice pursues me,
+And for that life I took unwillingly,
+And in a fair defence, I must lose mine,
+Unless you in your charity protect me.
+Your house is now my sanctuary, and the Altar,
+I gladly would take hold of your sweet mercy.
+By all that's dear unto you, by your vertues,
+And by your innocence, that needs no forgiveness,
+Take pity on me.
+
+_Guio._ Are you a _Castillian_?
+
+_Rut._ No Madam, _Italy_ claims my birth.
+
+_Guio._ I ask not
+With purpose to betray you, if you were
+Ten thousand times a Spaniard, the nation
+We Portugals most hate, I yet would save you
+If it lay in my power: lift up these hangings;
+Behind my Beds head there's a hollow place,
+Into which enter; so, but from this stir not
+If the Officers come, as you expect they will doe,
+I know they owe such reverence to my lodgings,
+That they will easily give credit to me
+And search no further.
+
+_Rut._ The blest Saints pay for me
+The infinite debt I owe you.
+
+_Guio._ How he quakes!
+Thus far I feel his heart beat, be of comfort,
+Once more I give my promise for your safety,
+All men are subject to such accidents,
+Especially the valiant; and who knows not,
+But that the charity I afford this stranger
+My only Son else where may stand in need of?
+
+_Enter Officers, and Servants, with the body of Duarte--Page._
+
+_1 Ser._ Now Madam, if your wisedom ever could
+Raise up defences against floods of sorrow
+That haste to overwhelm you, make true use of
+Your great discretion.
+
+_2 Ser._ Your only son
+My Lord _Duart's_ slain.
+
+_1 Off._ His murtherer, pursued by us
+Was by a boy discovered
+Entring your house, and that induced us
+To press into it for his apprehension.
+
+_Guio._ Oh!
+
+_1 Ser._ Sure her heart is broke.
+
+_Off._ Madam.
+
+_Guio._ Stand off.
+My sorrow is so dear and pretious to me,
+That you must not partake it, suffer it
+Like wounds that do breed inward to dispatch me.
+O my _Duart_, such an end as this
+Thy pride long since did prophesie; thou art dead,
+And to encrease my misery, thy sad Mother
+Must make a wilfull shipwrack of her vow
+Or thou fall unreveng'd. My Soul's divided,
+And piety to a son, and true performance
+Of hospitable duties to my guest,
+That are to others Angels, are my furies.
+Vengeance knocks at my heart, but my word given
+Denies the entrance, is no _Medium_ left,
+But that I must protect the murderer,
+Or suffer in that faith he made his altar?
+Motherly love give place, the fault made this way,
+To keep a vow, to which high Heaven is witness,
+Heaven may be pleas'd to pardon.
+
+_Enter_ Manuel, Doctors, Surgeons.
+
+_Man._ 'Tis too late,
+Hee's gone, past all recovery: now reproof
+Were but unseasonable when I should give comfort,
+And yet remember Sister.
+
+_Guio._ O forbear,
+Search for the murtherer, and remove the body,
+And as you think fit, give it burial.
+Wretch that I am, uncapable of all comfort,
+And therefore I intreat my friends and kinsfolk,
+And you my Lord, for some space to forbear
+Your courteous visitations.
+
+_Man._ We obey you. [_Exeunt omnes with the body._
+Manet Guiomar.
+
+_Rut._ My Spirits come back, and now despair resigns
+Her place again to hope.
+
+_Guio._ What ere thou art
+To whom I have given means of life, to witness
+With what Religion I have kept my promise,
+Come fearless forth, but let thy face be cover'd,
+That I hereafter be not forc't to know thee,
+For motherly affection may return
+My vow once paid to heaven. Thou hast taken from me
+The respiration of my heart, the light
+Of my swoln eyes, in his life that sustain'd me:
+Yet my word given to save you, I make good,
+Because what you did, was not done with malice,
+You are not known, there is no mark about you
+That can discover you; let not fear betray you.
+With all convenient speed you can, flie from me
+That I may never see you; and that want
+Of means may be no let unto your journie,
+There are a hundred Crownes: you are at the door now,
+And so Farewell for ever.
+
+_Rut._ Let me first fall
+Before your feet, and on them pay the duty
+I owe your goodness; next all blessings to you,
+And Heaven restore the joyes I have bereft you,
+With full increase hereafter, living be
+The Goddess stil'd of Hospitalitie.
+
+
+
+
+_Actus Tertius. Scena Prima._
+
+
+_Enter Leopold, and Zenocia._
+
+_Leo._ Fling off these sullen clouds, you are enter'd now
+Into a house of joy and happiness,
+I have prepar'd a blessing for ye.
+
+_Zen._ Thank ye, my state would rather ask a curse.
+
+_Leo._ You are peevish
+And know not when ye are friended, I have us'd those means,
+The Lady of this house, the noble Lady,
+Will take ye as her own, and use ye graciously:
+Make much of what you are, Mistris of that beautie,
+And expose it not to such betraying sorrows,
+When ye are old, and all those sweets hang wither'd,
+
+_Enter_ Servant.
+
+Then sit and sigh.
+
+_Zen._ My _Autumn_ is not far off.
+
+_Leo._ Have you told your Lady?
+
+_Ser._ Yes Sir, I have told her
+Both of your noble service, and your present,
+Which she accepts.
+
+_Leo._ I should be blest to see her.
+
+_Ser._ That now you cannot doe: she keeps the Chamber
+Not well dispos'd; and has denied all visits,
+The maid I have in charge to receive from ye,
+So please you render her.
+
+_Leo._ With all my service,
+But fain I would have seen.
+
+_Ser._ 'Tis but your patience;
+No doubt she cannot but remember nobly.
+
+_Leo._ These three years I have lov'd this scornfull Lady,
+And follow'd her with all the truth of service,
+In all which time, but twice she has honour'd me
+With sight of her blest beauty: when you please Sir,
+You may receive your charge, and tell your Lady;
+A Gentleman whose life is only dedicated
+To her commands, kisses her beauteous hands;
+And Faire-one, now your help, you may remember
+The honest courtesies, since you are mine,
+I ever did your modestie: you shall be near her,
+And if sometimes you name my service to her,
+And tell her with what nobleness I love her,
+'Twill be a gratitude I shall remember.
+
+_Zen._ What in my poor power lyes, so it be honest.
+
+_Leo._ I ask no more.
+
+_Ser._ You must along with me (Fair.)
+
+_Leo._ And so I leave you two: but a fortune
+Too happy for my fate: you shall enjoy her.
+
+
+
+
+_Scena Secunda._
+
+
+_Enter Zabulon and Servants._
+
+_Zab._ Be quick, be quick, out with the banquet there,
+These scents are dull; cast richer on, and fuller;
+Scent every place, where have you plac'd the musick?
+
+_Ser._ Here they stand ready Sir.
+
+_Zab._ 'Tis well, be sure
+The wines be lusty, high, and full of Spirit,
+And Amber'd all.
+
+_Ser._ They are.
+
+_Zab._ Give fair attendance.
+In the best trim, and state, make ready all.
+I shall come presently again. [_Banquet set forth. Exit._
+
+_2 Ser._ We shall Sir,
+What preparation's this?
+Some new device
+My Lady has in hand.
+
+_1 Ser._ O, prosper it
+As long as it carries good wine in the mouth,
+And good meat with it, where are all the rest?
+
+_2 Ser._ They are ready to attend. [_Musick._
+
+_1 Ser._ Sure some great person,
+They would not make this hurry else.
+
+_2 Ser._ Hark the Musick.
+
+_Enter_ Zabulon, _and_ Arnoldo.
+
+It will appear now certain, here it comes.
+Now to our places.
+
+_Arn._ Whither will he lead me?
+What invitation's this? to what new end
+Are these fair preparations? a rich Banquet,
+Musick, and every place stuck with adornment,
+Fit for a Princes welcome; what new game
+Has Fortune now prepar'd to shew me happy?
+And then again to sink me? 'tis no illusion,
+Mine eyes are not deceiv'd, all these are reall;
+What wealth and state!
+
+_Zab._ Will you sit down and eat Sir?
+These carry little wonder, they are usual;
+But you shall see, if you be wise to observe it,
+That that will strike dead, strike with amazement,
+Then if you be a man: this fair health to you.
+
+_Ar._ What shall I see? I pledge ye Sir, I was never
+So buried in amazement--
+
+_Zab._ You are so still:
+Drink freely.
+
+_Ar._ The very wines are admirable:
+Good Sir, give me leave to ask this question,
+For what great worthy man are these prepar'd?
+And why do you bring me hither?
+
+_Zab._ They are for you, Sir;
+And under-value not the worth you carry,
+You are that worthy man: think well of these,
+They shall be more, and greater.
+
+_Ar._ Well, blind fortune
+Thou hast the prettiest changes when thou art pleas'd,
+To play thy game out wantonly--
+
+_Zab._ Come be lusty,
+And awake your Spirits. [_Cease Musick._
+
+_Ar._ Good Sir, do not wake me.
+For willingly I would dye in this dream, pray whose Servants
+Are all these that attend here?
+
+_Zab._ They are yours;
+They wait on you.
+
+_Ar._ I never yet remember
+I kept such faces, nor that I was ever able
+To maintain so many.
+
+_Zab._ Now you are, and shall be.
+
+_Ar._ You'l say this house is mine too?
+
+_Zab._ Say it? swear it.
+
+_Ar._ And all this wealth?
+
+_Zab._ This is the least you see Sir.
+
+_Ar._ Why, where has this been hid these thirtie years?
+For certainly I never found I was wealthie
+Till this hour, never dream'd of house, and Servants.
+I had thought I had been a younger Brother, a poor Gent.
+I may eat boldly then.
+
+_Zab._ 'Tis prepar'd for ye.
+
+_Ar._ The taste is perfect, and most delicate:
+But why for me? give me some wine, I do drink;
+I feel it sensibly, and I am here,
+Here in this glorious place: I am bravely us'd too,
+Good Gentle Sir, give me leave to think a little,
+For either I am much abus'd--
+
+_Zab._ Strike Musick
+And sing that lusty Song. [_Musick. Song._
+
+_Ar._ Bewitching harmony!
+Sure I am turn'd into another Creature.
+
+_Enter_ Hippolyta.
+
+Happy and blest, _Arnoldo_ was unfortunate;
+Ha! bless mine eyes; what pretious piece of nature
+To pose the world?
+
+_Zab._ I told you, you would see that
+Would darken these poor preparations;
+What think ye now? nay rise not, 'tis no vision.
+
+_Ar._ 'Tis more: 'tis miracle.
+
+_Hip._ You are welcom Sir.
+
+_Ar._ It speaks, and entertains me still more glorious;
+She is warm, and this is flesh here: how she stirs me!
+Bless me what stars are there?
+
+_Hip._ May I sit near ye?
+
+_Ar._ No, you are too pure an object to behold,
+Too excellent to look upon, and live;
+I must remove.
+
+_Zab._ She is a woman Sir,
+Fy, what faint heart is this?
+
+_Arn._ The house of wonder.
+
+_Zab._ Do not you think your self now truly happy?
+You have the abstract of all sweetness by ye,
+The precious wealth youth labours to arrive at;
+Nor is she less in honour, than in beauty,
+_Ferrara's_ Royal Duke is proud to call her
+His best, his Noblest, and most happy Sister,
+Fortune has made her Mistress of herself,
+Wealthy, and wise, without a power to sway her,
+Wonder of _Italy_, of all hearts Mistress.
+
+_Arn._ And all this is--
+
+_Zab._ _Hippolyta_ the beauteous.
+
+_Hip._ You are a poor relator of my fortunes,
+Too weak a Chronicle to speak my blessings,
+And leave out that essential part of story
+I am most high and happy in, most fortunate,
+The acquaintance, and the noble fellowship
+Of this fair Gentleman: pray ye do not wonder,
+Nor hold it strange to hear a handsome Lady
+Speak freely to ye: with your fair leave and courtesie
+I will sit by ye.
+
+_Arn._ I know not what to answer,
+Nor where I am, nor to what end consider;
+Why do you use me thus?
+
+_Hip._ Are ye angry Sir,
+Because ye are entertain'd with all humanity?
+Freely and nobly us'd?
+
+_Arn._ No gentle Lady,
+That were uncivil, but it much amazes me
+A stranger, and a man of no desert
+Should find such floods of courtesie.
+
+_Hip._ I love ye,
+I honour ye, the first and best of all men,
+And where that fair opinion leads, 'tis usual
+These trifles that but serve to set off, follow.
+I would not have you proud now, nor disdainful
+Because I say I love ye, though I swear it,
+Nor think it a stale favour I fling on ye,
+Though ye be handsome, and the only man
+I must confess I ever fixt mine eye on,
+And bring along all promises that please us,
+Yet I should hate ye then, despise ye, scorn ye,
+And with as much contempt pursue your person,
+As now I do with love. But you are wiser,
+At least I think, more master of your fortune,
+And so I drink your health.
+
+_Arn._ Hold fast good honesty,
+I am a lost man else.
+
+_Hip._ Now you may kiss me,
+'Tis the first kiss, I ever askt, I swear to ye.
+
+_Arn._ That I dare do sweet Lady.
+
+_Hip._ You do it well too;
+You are a Master Sir, that makes you coy.
+
+_Arn._ Would you would send your people off.
+
+_Hip._ Well thought on.
+Wait all without. [_Exit_ Zab. _and Servants._
+
+_Zab._ I hope she is pleas'd throughly.
+
+_Hip._ Why stand ye still? here's no man to detect ye,
+My people are gone off: come, come, leave conjuring,
+The Spirit you would raise, is here already,
+Look boldly on me.
+
+_Arn._ What would you have me do?
+
+_Hip._ O most unmanly question! have you do?
+Is't possible your years should want a Tutor?
+I'le teach ye: come, embrace me.
+
+_Arn._ Fye stand off;
+And give me leave, more now than e're, to wonder,
+A building of so goodly a proportion,
+Outwardly all exact, the frame of Heaven,
+Should hide within so base inhabitants?
+You are as fair, as if the morning bare ye,
+Imagination never made a sweeter;
+Can it be possible this frame should suffer,
+And built on slight affections, fright the viewer?
+Be excellent in all, as you are outward,
+The worthy Mistress of those many blessings
+Heaven has bestowed, make 'em appear still nobler,
+Because they are trusted to a weaker keeper.
+Would ye have me love ye?
+
+_Hip._ Yes.
+
+_Arn._ Not for your beauty;
+Though I confess, it blowes the first fire in us,
+Time as he passes by, puts out that sparkle;
+Nor for your wealth, although the world kneel to it,
+And make it all addition to a woman,
+Fortune that ruines all, makes that his conquest;
+Be honest, and be vertuous, I'le admire ye,
+At least be wise, and where ye lay these nets,
+Strow over 'em a little modesty,
+'Twill well become your cause, and catch more Fools.
+
+_Hip._ Could any one that lov'd this wholesome counsel
+But love the giver more? you make me fonder:
+You have a vertuous mind, I want that ornament;
+Is it a sin I covet to enjoy ye?
+If ye imagine I am too free a Lover,
+And act that part belongs to you, I am silent:
+Mine eyes shall speak my blushes, parly with ye;
+I will not touch your hand, but with a tremble
+Fitting a Vestal Nun; not long to kiss ye,
+But gently as the Air, and undiscern'd too,
+I'le steal it thus: I'le walk your shadow by ye,
+So still and silent that it shall be equal,
+To put me off, as that, and when I covet,
+To give such toyes as these--
+
+_Arn._ A new temptation--
+
+_Hip._ Thus like the lazie minutes will I drop 'em,
+Which past once are forgotten.
+
+_Arn._ Excellent vice!
+
+_Hip._ Will ye be won? look stedfastly upon me,
+Look manly, take a mans affections to you;
+Young women, in the old world were not wont, Sir,
+To hang out gaudy bushes for their beauties,
+To talk themselves into young mens affections;
+How cold and dull you are!
+
+_Arn._ How I stagger!
+She is wise, as fair; but 'tis a wicked wisdom;
+I'le choak before I yield.
+
+_Hip._ Who waits within there? [Zabulon _within._
+Make ready the green Chamber.
+
+_Zab._ It shall be Madam.
+
+_Arn._ I am afraid she will injoy me indeed.
+
+_Hip._ What Musick do ye love?
+
+_Arn._ A modest tongue.
+
+_Hip._ We'l have enough of that: fye, fye, how lumpish!
+In a young Ladyes arms thus dull?
+
+_Arn._ For Heaven sake
+Profess a little goodness.
+
+_Hip._ Of what Country?
+
+_Arn._ I am of _Rome_.
+
+_Hip._ Nay then I know you mock me,
+The _Italians_ are not frighted with such bug-bears,
+Prethee go in.
+
+_Arn._ I am not well.
+
+_Hip._ I'le make thee,
+I'le kiss thee well.
+
+_Arn._ I am not sick of that sore.
+
+_Hip._ Upon my Conscience, I must ravish thee,
+I shall be famous for the first example:
+With this I'le tye ye first, then try your strength Sir.
+
+_Arn._ My strength? away base woman, I abhor thee.
+I am not caught with stales, disease dwell with thee. [_Exit._
+
+_Hip._ Are ye so quick? and have I lost my wishes?
+Hoe, _Zabulon_; my servants.
+
+_Enter_ Zabulon _and_ Servants.
+
+_Zab._ Call'd ye Madam?
+
+_Hip._ Is all that beauty scorned, so many su'd for;
+So many Princes? by a stranger too?
+Must I endure this?
+
+_Zab._ Where's the Gentleman?
+
+_Hip._ Go presently, pursue the stranger, _Zabulon_.
+He has broke from me, Jewels I have given him:
+Charge him with theft: he has stoln my love, my freedome,
+Draw him before the Governour, imprison him,
+Why dost thou stay?
+
+_Zab._ I'le teach him a new dance,
+For playing fast and loose with such a Lady.
+Come fellows, come: I'le execute your anger,
+And to the full.
+
+_Hip._ His scorn shall feel my vengeance.-- [_Exeunt._
+
+
+
+
+_Scena Tertia._
+
+
+_Enter_ Sulpicia _and_ Jaques.
+
+_Sul._ Shall I never see a lusty man again?
+
+_Ja._ Faith Mistress
+You do so over-labour 'em when you have 'em,
+And so dry-founder 'em, they cannot last.
+
+_Sul._ Where's the _French_-man?
+
+_Ja._ Alas, he's all to fitters,
+and lyes, taking the height of his fortune with a Syringe.
+He's chin'd, he's chin'd good man, he is a mourner.
+
+_Sul._ What's become of the _Dane_?
+
+_Ja._ Who? goldy-locks?
+He's foul i'th' touch-hole; and recoils again,
+The main Spring's weaken'd that holds up his cock,
+He lies at the sign of the _Sun_, to be new breech'd.
+
+_Sul._ The Rutter too, is gone.
+
+_Ja._ O that was a brave Rascal,
+He would labour like a Thrasher: but alas
+What thing can ever last? he has been ill mew'd,
+And drawn too soon; I have seen him in the Hospital.
+
+_Sul._ There was an _English_-man.
+
+_Ja._ I there was an _English_-man;
+You'l scant find any now, to make that name good:
+There were those _English_ that were men indeed,
+And would perform like men, but now they are vanisht:
+They are so taken up in their own Country,
+And so beaten of their speed by their own women,
+When they come here, they draw their legs like Hackneys:
+Drink, and their own devices have undone 'em.
+
+_Sul._ I must have one that's strong, no life in _Lisbon_ else,
+Perfect and young: my Custom with young Ladies,
+And high fed City dames, will fall, and break else.
+I want my self too, in mine age to nourish me:
+They are all sunk I mantain'd: now what's this business,
+What goodly fellow's that?
+
+_Enter_ Rutilio _and_ Officers.
+
+_Rut._ Why do you drag me?
+Pox o' your justice; let me loose.
+
+_1 Offi._ Not so Sir.
+
+_Rut._ Cannot a man fall into one of your drunken Cellars,
+And venture the breaking on's neck, your trap-doors open,
+But he must be us'd thus rascally?
+
+_1 Offi._ What made you wandring
+So late i'th' night? you know that is imprisonment.
+
+_Rut._ May be I walk in my sleep.
+
+_2 Offi._ May be we'l walk ye.
+What made you wandring Sir, into that vault
+Where all the City store, and the Munition lay?
+
+_Rut._ I fell into it by chance, I broke my shins for't:
+Your worships feel not that: I knockt my head
+Against a hundred posts, would you had had it.
+Cannot I break my neck in my own defence?
+
+_2 Offi._ This will not serve: you cannot put it off so,
+Your coming thither was to play the villain,
+To fire the Powder, to blow up that part o'th' City.
+
+_Rut._ Yes, with my nose: why were the trap-doors open?
+Might not you fall, or you, had you gone that way?
+I thought your City had sunk.
+
+_1 Offi._ You did your best Sir,
+We must presume, to help it into th' Air,
+If you call that sinking: we have told you what's the law,
+He that is taken there, unless a Magistrate,
+And have command in that place, presently
+If there be nothing found apparent near him
+Worthy his torture, or his present death,
+Must either pay his fine for his presumption,
+(Which is six hundred Duckets) or for six years
+Tug at an Oar i'th' Gallies: will ye walk Sir,
+For we presume you cannot pay the penalty.
+
+_Rut._ Row in the Gallies, after all this mischief?
+
+_2 Offi._ May be you were drunk, they'l keep you sober there.
+
+_Rut._ Tug at an Oar? you are not arrant rascals,
+To catch me in a pit-fall, and betray me?
+
+_Sul._ A lusty minded man.
+
+_Ja._ A wondrous able.
+
+_Sul._ Pray Gentlemen, allow me but that liberty
+To speak a few words with your prisoner,
+And I shall thank you.
+
+_1 Offi._ Take your pleasure Lady.
+
+_Sul._ What would you give that woman should redeem ye,
+Redeem ye from this slavery?
+
+_Rut._ Besides my service
+I would give her my whole self, I would be her vassal.
+
+_Sul._ She has reason to expect as much, considering
+The great sum she pays for't, yet take comfort,
+What ye shall do to merit this, is easie,
+And I will be the woman shall befriend ye,
+'Tis but to entertain some handsome Ladies,
+And young fair Gentlewomen: you guess the way:
+But giving of your mind--
+
+_Rut._ I am excellent at it:
+You cannot pick out such another living.
+I understand ye: is't not thus?
+
+_Sul._ Ye have it.
+
+_Rut._ Bring me a hundred of 'em: I'le dispatch 'em.
+I will be none but yours: should another offer
+Another way to redeem me, I should scorn it.
+What women you shall please: I am monstrous lusty:
+Not to be taken down: would you have Children?
+I'le get you those as fast, and thick as flie-blows.
+
+_Sul._ I admire him: wonder at him!
+
+_Rut._ Hark ye Lady,
+You may require sometimes--
+
+_Sul._ I by my faith.
+
+_Rut._ And you shall have it by my faith, and handsomly:
+This old Cat will suck shrewdly: you have no Daughters?
+I flye at all: now am I in my Kingdom.
+Tug at an Oar? no, tug in a Feather-bed,
+With good warm Caudles; hang your bread and water,
+I'le make you young again, believe that Lady.
+I will so frubbish you.
+
+_Sul._ Come, follow Officers,
+This Gentleman is free: I'le pay the Duckets.
+
+_Rut._ And when you catch me in your City-powdring-tub
+Again, boil me with Cabbidge.
+
+_1 Offi._ You are both warn'd and arm'd Sir. [_Exeunt._
+
+
+
+
+_Scena Quarta._
+
+
+_Enter_ Leopold, Hippolyta, Zenocia.
+
+_Zen._ Will your Ladyship wear this Dressing?
+
+_Hip._ Leave thy prating:
+I care not what I wear.
+
+_Zen._ Yet 'tis my duty
+To know your pleasure, and my worst affliction
+To see you discontented.
+
+_Hip._ Weeping too?
+Prethee forgive me: I am much distemper'd,
+And speak I know not what: to make thee amends
+The Gown that I wore yesterday, is thine;
+Let it alone awhile.
+
+_Leo._ Now you perceive,
+And taste her bounty.
+
+_Zen._ Much above my merit.
+
+_Leo._ But have you not yet found a happy time
+To move for me.
+
+_Zen._ I have watched all occasions,
+But hitherto, without success: yet doubt not
+But I'le embrace the first means.
+
+_Leo._ Do, and prosper:
+Excellent creature, whose perfections make
+Even sorrow lovely, if your frowns thus take me,
+What would your smiles doe?
+
+_Hip._ Pox o' this stale Courtship:
+If I have any power.
+
+_Leo._ I am commanded,
+Obedience is the Lovers sacrifice
+Which I pay gladly.
+
+_Hip._ To be forc'd to wooe,
+Being a woman, could not but torment me,
+But bringing for my advocates, youth and beauty,
+Set off with wealth, and then to be deni'd too
+Do's comprehend all tortures. They flatter'd me,
+That said my looks were charms, my touches fetters,
+My locks soft chains, to bind the arms of Princes,
+And make them in that wish'd for bondage, happy.
+I am like others of a coarser feature,
+As weak to allure, but in my dotage, stronger:
+I am no _Circe_; he, more than _Ulysses_,
+Scorns all my offer'd bounties, slights my favours,
+And, as I were some new Egyptian, flyes me,
+Leaving no pawn, but my own shame behind him.
+But he shall finde, that in my fell revenge,
+I am a woman: one that never pardons
+The rude contemner of her proffered sweetness.
+
+_Enter_ Zabulon.
+
+_Zab._ Madam, 'tis done.
+
+_Hip._ What's done?
+
+_Zab._ The uncivill stranger
+Is at your suite arrested.
+
+_Hip._ 'Tis well handled.
+
+_Zab._ And under guard sent to the Governour,
+With whom my testimony, and the favour
+He bears your Ladiship, have so prevail'd
+That he is sentenc'd.
+
+_Hip._ How?
+
+_Zab._ To lose his head.
+
+_Hip._ Is that the means to quench the scorching heat
+Of my inrag'd desires? must innocence suffer,
+'Cause I am faulty? or is my Love so fatall
+That of necessity it must destroy
+The object it most longs for? dull _Hippolyta_,
+To think that injuries could make way for love,
+When courtesies were despis'd: that by his death
+Thou shouldst gain that, which only thou canst hope for
+While he is living: My honour's at the stake now,
+And cannot be preserv'd, unless he perish,
+The enjoying of the thing I love, I ever
+Have priz'd above my fame: why doubt I now then?
+One only way is left me, to redeem all:
+Make ready my Caroch.
+
+_Leo._ What will you Madam?
+
+_Hip._ And yet I am impatient of such stay:
+Bind up my hair: fye, fye, while that is doing
+The Law may seise his life: thus as I am then,
+Not like _Hippolyta_, but a _Bacchanal_
+My frantique Love transports me. [_Exit._
+
+_Leo._ Sure she's distracted.
+
+_Zab._ Pray you follow her: I will along with you:
+I more than ghess the cause: women that love
+Are most uncertain, and one minute crave,
+What in another they refuse to have. [_Exit._
+
+
+
+
+_Scena Quinta._
+
+
+_Enter_ Clodio, Charino.
+
+_Clo._ Assure thy self _Charino_, I am alter'd
+From what I was; the tempests we have met with
+In our uncertain voyage, were smooth gales
+Compar'd to those, the memory of my lusts
+Rais'd in my Conscience: and if ere again
+I live to see _Zenocia_, I will sue,
+And seek to her as a Lover, and a Servant,
+And not command affection, like a Tyrant.
+
+_Char._ In hearing this, you make me young again,
+And Heaven, it seems, favouring this good change in you
+In setting of a period to our dangers
+Gives us fair hopes to find that here in _Lisbon_
+Which hitherto in vain we long have sought for.
+I have receiv'd assur'd intelligence,
+Such strangers have been seen here: and though yet
+I cannot learn their fortunes, nor the place
+Of their abode, I have a Soul presages
+A fortunate event here.
+
+_Clo._ There have pass'd
+A mutual enterchange of courtesies
+Between me, and the Governour; therefore boldly
+We may presume of him, and of his power
+If we finde cause to use them, otherwise
+I would not be known here, and these disguises
+Will keep us from discovery.
+
+_Enter_ Manuel, Doctor, Arnoldo, Guard.
+
+_Char._ What are these?
+
+_Clo._ The Governour: with him my Rival, bound.
+
+_Char._ For certain 'tis _Arnoldo_.
+
+_Clo._ Let's attend
+What the success will be.
+
+_Mar._ Is't possible
+There should be hope of his recovery,
+His wounds so many and so deadly?
+
+_Doct._ So they appear'd at first, but the blood stop'd,
+His trance forsook him, and on better search
+We found they were not mortal.
+
+_Man._ Use all care
+To perfect this unhop'd for cure: that done
+Propose your own rewards: and till you shall
+Hear farther from me, for some ends I have,
+Conceal it from his Mother.
+
+_Doct._ Wee'l not fail Sir. [_Exit._
+
+_Man._ You still stand confident on your innocence.
+
+_Arn._ It is my best and last guard, which I will not
+Leave, to relye on your uncertain mercy.
+
+_Enter_ Hippolyta, Zabulon, Leopold, Zenocia, 2 Servants.
+
+_Hip._ Who bad you follow me! Goe home, and you Sir,
+As you respect me, goe with her.
+
+_Arn._ _Zenocia_!
+And in her house a Servant!
+
+_Char._ 'Tis my Daughter.
+
+_Clo._ My love? Contain your joy, observe the sequel. [_Zen. passes._
+
+_Man._ Fye Madam, how undecent 'tis for you,
+So far unlike your self to bee seen thus
+In th' open streets? why do you kneel? pray you rise,
+I am acquainted with the wrong, and loss
+You have sustain'd, and the Delinquent now
+Stands ready for his punishment.
+
+_Hip._ Let it fall, Sir,
+On the offender: he is innocent,
+And most unworthy of these bonds he wears,
+But I made up of guilt.
+
+_Man._ What strange turn's this?
+
+_Leo._ This was my prisoner once.
+
+_Hip._ If chastity
+In a young man, and tempted to the height too
+Did ere deserve reward, or admiration,
+He justly may claim both. Love to his person
+(Or if you please give it a fouler name)
+Compel'd me first to train him to my house,
+All engines I rais'd there to shake his vertue,
+Which in the assault were useless; he unmov'd still
+As if he had no part of humane frailty.
+Against the nature of my Sex, almost
+I plaid the Ravisher. You might have seen
+In our contention, young _Apollo_ fly
+And love-sick _Daphne_ follow, all arts failing,
+By flight he wan the victory, breaking from
+My scorn'd embraces: the repulse (in women
+Unsufferable) invited me to practise
+A means to be reveng'd: and from this grew
+His Accusation, and the abuse
+Of your still equall justice: My rage ever
+Thanks heaven, though wanton, I found not my self
+So far engag'd to Hell, to prosecute
+To the death what I had plotted, for that love
+That made me first desire him, then accuse him,
+Commands me with the hazard of my self
+First to entreat his pardon, then acquit him.
+
+_Man._ What ere you are, so much I love your vertue,
+That I desire your friendship: do you unloose him
+From those bonds, you are worthy of: your repentance
+Makes part of satisfaction; yet I must
+Severely reprehend you.
+
+_Leo._ I am made
+A stale on all parts: But this fellow shall
+Pay dearly for her favour.
+
+_Arn._ My life's so full
+Of various changes, that I now despair
+Of any certain port; one trouble ending,
+A new, and worse succeeds it: what should _Zenocia_
+Do in this womans house? Can chastity
+And hot Lust dwell together without infection?
+I would not be or jealous, or secure,
+Yet something must be done, to sound the depth on't:
+That she lives is my bliss, but living there,
+A hell of torments; there's no way to her
+In whom I live, but by this door, through which
+To me 'tis death to enter, yet I must,
+And will make tryal.
+
+_Man._ Let me hear no more
+Of these devices, Lady: this I pardon,
+And at your intercession I forgive
+Your instrument the Jew too: get you home.
+The hundred thousand crowns you lent the City
+Towards the setting forth of the last Navy
+Bound for the Islands, was a good then, which
+I ballance with your ill now.
+
+_Char._ Now Sir, to him,
+You know my Daughter needs it.
+
+_Hip._ Let me take
+A farewell with mine eye, Sir, though my lip
+Be barr'd the Ceremonie, courtesie
+And Custom too allows of.
+
+_Arn._ Gentle Madam,
+I neither am so cold, nor so ill bred
+But that I dare receive it: you are unguarded,
+And let me tell you that I am asham'd
+Of my late rudeness, and would gladly therefore
+If you please to accept my ready service
+Wait on you to your house.
+
+_Hip._ Above my hope:
+Sir, if an Angel were to be my convoy,
+He should not be more welcom.-- [_Ex._ Arn. _and_ Hip.
+
+_Clo._ Now you know me.
+
+_Man._ Yes Sir, and honour you: ever remembring
+Your many bounties, being ambitious only
+To give you cause to say by some one service
+That I am not ungratefull.
+
+_Clod._ 'Tis now offer'd:
+I have a suit to you, and an easie one,
+Which e're long you shall know.
+
+_Man._ When you think fit Sir,
+And then as a command I will receive it,
+Till when, most welcom: you are welcom too Sir,
+'Tis spoken from the heart, and therefore needs not
+Much protestation: at your better leisure
+I will enquire the cause that brought you hither:
+In the mean time serve you.
+
+_Clod._ You out-doe me Sir. [_Exeunt._
+
+
+
+
+_Actus Quartus. Scena Prima._
+
+
+_Enter_ Duarte, Doctor.
+
+_Dua._ You have bestow'd on me a second life,
+For which I live your creature, and have better'd
+What nature fram'd unperfect, my first being
+Insolent pride made monstrous; but this later
+In learning me to know my self, hath taught me
+Not to wrong others.
+
+_Doct._ Then we live indeed,
+When we can goe to rest without alarm
+Given every minute to a guilt-sick conscience
+To keep us waking, and rise in the morning
+Secure in being innocent: but when
+In the remembrance of our worser actions
+We ever bear about us whips and furies,
+To make the day a night of sorrow to us,
+Even life's a burthen.
+
+_Dua._ I have found and felt it;
+But will endeavour having first made peace
+With those intestine enemies my rude passions,
+To be so with man-kind: but worthy Doctor,
+Pray if you can resolve me; was the Gentleman
+That left me dead, ere brought unto his tryal?
+
+_Doct._ Not known, nor apprehended.
+
+_Dua._ That's my grief.
+
+_Doct._ Why, do you wish he had been punished?
+
+_Dua._ No,
+The stream of my swoln sorrow runs not that way:
+For could I find him, as I vow to Heaven
+It shall be my first care to seek him out,
+I would with thanks acknowledge that his sword,
+In opening my veins, which proud bloud poison'd,
+Gave the first symptoms of true health.
+
+_Doct._ 'Tis in you
+A Christian resolution: that you live
+Is by the Governours, your Uncles charge
+As yet conceal'd. And though a sons loss never
+Was solemniz'd with more tears of true sorrow
+Than have been paid by your unequal'd Mother
+For your supposed death, she's not acquainted
+With your recovery.
+
+_Dua._ For some few dayes
+Pray let her so continue: thus disguis'd
+I may abroad unknown.
+
+_Doct._ Without suspicion
+Of being discovered.
+
+_Dua._ I am confident
+No moisture sooner dies than womens tears,
+And therefore though I know my Mother vertuous,
+Yet being one of that frail sex I purpose
+Her farther tryal.
+
+_Doct._ That as you think fit--I'le not betray you.
+
+_Dua._ To find out this stranger
+This true Physician of my mind and manners
+Were such a blessing. He seem'd poor, and may
+Perhaps be now in want; would I could find him.
+The Innes I'le search first, then the publick Stewes;
+He was of _Italy_, and that Country breeds not
+Precisians that way, but hot Libertines;
+And such the most are: 'tis but a little travail:
+I am unfurnisht too, pray Mr. Doctor,
+Can you supply me?
+
+_Doct._ With what summ you please.
+
+_Dua._ I will not be long absent.
+
+_Doct._ That I wish too;
+For till you have more strength, I would not have you
+To be too bold.
+
+_Dua._ Fear not, I will be carefull. [_Exeunt._
+
+_Enter_ Leopold, Zabulon, Bravo.
+
+_Zab._ I have brought him Sir, a fellow that will do it
+Though Hell stood in his way, ever provided
+You pay him for't.
+
+_Leop._ He has a strange aspect,
+And looks much like the figure of a hang-man
+In a table of the Passion.
+
+_Zab._ He transcends
+All precedents, believe it, a flesh'd ruffian,
+That hath so often taken the Strappado,
+That 'tis to him but as a lofty trick
+Is to a tumbler: he hath perused too
+All Dungeons in _Portu[g]al_, thrice seven years
+Rowed in the Galleys for three several murthers,
+Though I presume that he has done a hundred,
+And scap't unpunisht.
+
+_Leop._ He is much in debt to you,
+You set him off so well. What will you take Sir
+To beat a fellow for me, that thus wrong'd me?
+
+_Bra._ To beat him say you?
+
+_Leop._ Yes, beat him to lameness,
+To cut his lips or nose off; any thing,
+That may disfigure him.
+
+_Bra._ Let me consider?
+Five hundred pistolets for such a service
+I think were no dear penniworth.
+
+_Zab._ Five hundred!
+Why there are of your Brother-hood in the City,
+I'le undertake, shall kill a man for twenty.
+
+_Bra._ Kill him? I think so; I'le kill any man
+For half the mony.
+
+_Leop._ And will you ask more
+For a sound beating than a murther?
+
+_Bra._ I Sir,
+And with good reason, for a dog that's dead,
+The Spanish proverb says, will never bite:
+But should I beat or hurt him only, he may
+Recover, and kill me.
+
+_Leo._ A good conclusion,
+The obduracie of this rascal makes me tender.
+I'le run some other course, there's your reward
+Without the employment.
+
+_Bra._ For that as you please Sir;
+When you have need to kill a man, pray use me,
+But I am out at beating. [_Exit._
+
+_Zab._ What's to be done then?
+
+_Leop._ I'le tell thee _Zabulon_, and make thee privy
+To my most near designs: this stranger, which
+_Hippolyta_ so dotes on, was my prisoner
+When the last Virgin, I bestowed upon her,
+Was made my prize; how he escaped, hereafter
+I'le let thee know; and it may be the love
+He bears the servant, makes him scorn the Mistris.
+
+_Zab._ 'Tis not unlike; for the first time he saw her
+His looks exprest so much, and for more proof
+Since he came to my Ladys house, though yet
+He never knew her, he hath practis'd with me
+To help him to a conference, without
+The knowledge of _Hippolyta_; which I promis'd.
+
+_Leop._ And by all means perform it for their meeting,
+But work it so, that my disdainful Mistris
+(Whom, notwithstanding all her injuries,
+'Tis my hard fate to love) may see and hear them.
+
+_Zab._ To what end Sir?
+
+_Leop._ This _Zabulon_: when she sees
+Who is her rival, and her Lovers baseness
+To leave a Princess for her bondwoman,
+The sight will make her scorn, what now she dotes on,
+I'le double thy reward.
+
+_Zab._ You are like to speed then:
+For I confess what you will soon believe,
+We serve them best that are most apt to give,
+For you, I'le place you where you shall see all, and yet be unobserv'd.
+
+_Leop._ That I desire too. [_Exeunt._
+
+_Enter_ Arnoldo.
+
+_Arn._ I cannot see her yet, how it afflicts me
+The poyson of this place should mix it self
+With her pure thoughts? 'Twas she that was commanded,
+Or my eyes failed me grosly; that youth, that face
+And all that noble sweetness. May she not live here,
+And yet be honest still?
+
+_Enter_ Zenocia.
+
+_Zen._ It is _Arnoldo_,
+From all his dangers free; fortune I bless thee.
+My noble husband! how my joy swells in me,
+But why in this place? what business hath he here?
+He cannot hear of me, I am not known here.
+I left him vertuous; how I shake to think now!
+And how that joy I had, cools, and forsakes me!
+
+_Enter above_ Hippolyta _and_ Zabulon.
+
+This Lady is but fair, I have been thought so
+Without compare admired; She has bewitched him
+And he forgot--
+
+_Arn._ 'Tis she again, the same--the same _Zenocia_.
+
+_Zab._ There they are together.--Now you may mark.
+
+_Hip._ Peace, let 'em parly.
+
+_Arn._ That you are well _Zenocia_, and once more
+Bless my despairing eyes, with your wisht presence,
+I thank the gods; but that I meet you here--
+
+_Hip._ They are acquainted.
+
+_Zab._ I found that secret Madam,
+When you co[m]manded her go home: pray hear 'em.
+
+_Zen._ That you meet me here, ne're blush at that _Arnoldo_.
+Your coming comes too late: I am a woman,
+And one woman with another may be trusted;
+Do you fear the house?
+
+_Arn._ More than a fear, I know it,
+Know it not good, not honest.
+
+_Zen._ What do you here then?
+I'th' name of vertue why do you approach it?
+Will you confess the doubt and yet pursue it?
+Where have your eyes been wandring, my _Arnoldo_?
+What constancy, what faith do you call this? Fie,
+Aim at one wanton mark, and wound another?
+I do confess, the Lady fair, most beauteous,
+And able to betray a strong mans liberty,
+ [Leopold _places himself unseen below._
+But you that have a love, a wife--you do well
+To deal thus wisely with me: yet _Arnoldo_,
+Since you are pleas'd to study a new beauty,
+And think this old and ill, beaten with misery,
+Study a nobler way for shame to love me,
+Wrong not her honesty.
+
+_Arn._ You have confirm'd me.
+
+_Zen._ Who though she be your wife, will never hinder you,
+So much I rest a servant to your wishes,
+And love your Loves, though they be my destructions,
+No man shall know me, nor the share I have in thee,
+No eye suspect I am able to prevent you,
+For since I am a slave to this great Lady,
+Whom I perceive you follow,
+
+_Arn._ Be not blinded.
+
+_Zen._ Fortune shall make me useful to your service,
+I will speak for you.
+
+_Arn._ Speak for me? you wrong me.
+
+_Zen._ I will endeavour all the wayes I am able
+To make her think well of you; will that please?
+To make her dote upon you, dote to madness,
+So far against my self I will obey you.
+But when that's done, and I have shewed this duty,
+This great obedience, few will buy it at my price,
+Thus will I shake hands with you, wish you well,
+But never see you more, nor receive comfort
+From any thing, _Arnoldo_.
+
+_Arn._ You are too tender;
+I neither doubt you, nor desire longer
+To be a man, and live, than I am honest
+And only yours; our infinite affections
+Abus'd us both.
+
+_Zab._ Where are your favours now?
+The courtesies you shew'd this stranger, Madam?
+
+_Hip._ Have I now found the cause?
+
+_Zab._ Attend it further.
+
+_Zen._ Did she invite you, do you say?
+
+_Arn._ Most cunningly,
+And with a preparation of that state
+I was brought in and welcom'd.
+
+_Zen._ Seem'd to love you?
+
+_Arn._ Most infinitely, at first sight, most dotingly.
+
+_Zen._ She is a goodly Lady.
+
+_Arn._ Wondrous handsom:
+At first view, being taken unprepar'd,
+Your memory not present then to assist me,
+She seem'd so glorious sweet, and so far stir'd me,
+Nay be not jealous, there's no harm done.
+
+_Zen._ Prethee--didst thou not kiss, _Arnoldo_?
+
+_Arn._ Yes faith did I.
+
+_Zen._ And then--
+
+_Arn._ I durst not, did not--
+
+_Zen._ I forgive you,
+Come tell the truth.
+
+_Arn._ May be I lay with her.
+
+_Hip._ He mocks me too, most basely.
+
+_Zen._ Did ye faith? did ye forget so far?
+
+_Arn._ Come, come, no weeping;
+I would have lyen first in my grave, believe that.
+Why will you ask those things you would not hear?
+She is too untemperate to betray my vertues,
+Too openly lascivious: had she dealt
+But with that seeming modesty she might,
+And flung a little Art upon her ardor,
+But 'twas forgot, and I forgot to like her,
+And glad I was deceiv'd. No my _Zenocia_,
+My first love here begun, rests here unreapt yet,
+And here for ever.
+
+_Zen._ You have made me happy,
+Even in the midst of bondage blest.
+
+_Zab._ You see now
+What rubs are in your way.
+
+_Hip._ And quickly _Zabulon_
+I'le root 'em out.--Be sure you do this presently.
+
+_Zab._ Do not you alter then.
+
+_Hip._ I am resolute. [_Exit Zabulon._
+
+_Arn._ To see you only I came hither last,
+Drawn by no love of hers, nor base allurements,
+For by this holy light I hate her heartily.
+
+_Leop._ I am glad of that, you have sav'd me so much vengeance
+And so much fear,
+From this hour fair befal you.
+
+_Arn._ Some means I shall make shortly to redeem you,
+Till when, observe her well, and fit her temper,
+Only her lust contemn.
+
+_Zen._ When shall I see you?
+
+_Arn._ I will live hereabouts, and bear her fair still,
+Till I can find a fit hour to redeem you.
+
+_Hip._ Shut all the doors.
+
+_Arn._ Who's that?
+
+_Zen._ We are betray'd,
+The Lady of the house has heard our parly,
+Seen us, and seen our Loves.
+
+_Hip._ You courteous Gallant,
+You that scorn all I can bestow, that laugh at
+The afflictions, and the groans I suffer for you,
+That slight and jeer my love, contemn the fortune
+My favours can fling on you, have I caught you?
+Have I now found the cause? ye fool my wishes;
+Is mine own slave, my bane? I nourish that
+That sucks up my content. I'le pray no more,
+Nor wooe no more; thou shalt see foolish man,
+And to thy bitter pain and anguish, look on
+The vengeance I shall take, provok'd and slighted;
+Redeem her then, and steal her hence: ho _Zabulon_
+Now to your work.
+
+_Enter_ Zabulon, _and_ Servants, _some holding_ Arnoldo,
+_some ready with a cord to strangle_ Zenocia.
+
+_Arn._ Lady, but hear me speak first,
+As you have pity.
+
+_Hip._ I have none. You taught me,
+When I even hung about your neck, you scorn'd me.
+
+_Zab._ Shall we pluck yet?
+
+_Hip._ No, hold a little _Zabulon_,
+I'le pluck his heart-strings first: now am I worthy
+A little of your love?
+
+_Arn._ I'le be your Servant,
+Command me through what danger you shall aime at,
+Let it be death.
+
+_Hip._ Be sure Sir, I shall fit you.
+
+_Arn._ But spare this Virgin.
+
+_Hip._ I would spare that villain first,
+Had cut my Fathers throat.
+
+_Arn._ Bounteous Lady,
+If in your sex there be that noble softness,
+That tenderness of heart, women are crown'd for--
+
+_Zen._ Kneel not _Arnoldo_, doe her not that honour,
+She is not worthy such submission,
+I scorn a life depends upon her pity.
+Proud woman do thy worst, and arm thy anger
+With thoughts as black as Hell, as hot and bloody,
+I bring a patience here, shall make 'em blush,
+An innocence, shall outlook thee, and death too.
+
+_Arn._ Make me your slave, I give my freedom to ye,
+For ever to be fetter'd to your service;
+'Twas I offended, be not so unjust then,
+To strike the innocent, this gentle maid
+Never intended fear and doubt against you:
+She is your Servant, pay not her observance
+With cruel looks, her duteous faith with death.
+
+_Hip._ Am I fair now? now am I worth your liking?
+
+_Zen._ Not fair, not to be liked, thou glorious Devil,
+Thou vernisht piece of lust, thou painted fury.
+
+_Arn._ Speak gently sweet, speak gently.
+
+_Zen._ I'le speak nobly.
+'Tis not the saving of a life I aim at,
+Mark me lascivious woman, mark me truly,
+And then consider, how I weigh thy anger.
+Life is no longer mine, nor dear unto me,
+Than usefull to his honour I preserve it.
+If thou hadst studied all the courtesies
+Humanity and noble blood are linkt to,
+Thou couldst not have propounded such a benefit,
+Nor heapt upon me such unlookt for honour
+As dying for his sake, to be his Martyr,
+'Tis such a grace.
+
+_Hip._ You shall not want that favour,
+Let your bones work miracles.
+
+_Arn._ Dear Lady
+By those fair eyes--
+
+_Hip._ There is but this way left ye
+To save her life.--
+
+_Arn._ Speak it, and I embrace it.
+
+_Hip._ Come to my private chamber presently,
+And there, what love and I command--
+
+_Arn._ I'le doe it,
+Be comforted _Zenocia_.
+
+_Zen._ Do not do this
+To save me, do not lose your self I charge you,
+I charge you by your love, that love [you] bear me;
+That love, that constant love you have twin'd to me,
+By all your promises, take heed you keep 'em,
+Now is your constant tryal. If thou dost this,
+Or mov'st one foot, to guide thee to her lust,
+My curses and eternal hate pursue thee.
+Redeem me at the base price of dis-loyalty?
+Must my undoubted honesty be thy Bawd too?
+Go and intwine thy self about that body;
+Tell her, for my life thou hast lost thine honour,
+Pull'd all thy vows from heaven, basely, most basely
+Stoop'd to the servile flames of that foul woman,
+To add an hour to me that hate thee for it,
+Know thee not again, nor name thee for a Husband.
+
+_Arn._ What shall I do to save her?
+
+_Hip._ How now, what hast there?
+
+_Enter a_ Servant.
+
+_Ser._ The Governour, attended with some Gentlemen,
+Are newly entred, to speak with your Ladiship.
+
+_Hip._ Pox o' their business, reprieve her for this hour,
+I shall have other time.
+
+_Arn._ Now fortune help us.
+
+_Hip._ I'le meet 'em presently: retire awhile all. [_Exeunt._
+
+_Zab._ You rise to day upon your right side Lady;
+You know the danger too, and may prevent it,
+And if you suffer her to perish thus,
+As she must do, and suddenly, believe it,
+Unless you stand her friend; you know the way on't,
+I guess you poorly love her, less your fortune.
+Let her know nothing, and perform this matter,
+There are hours ordained for several businesses,
+You understand.
+
+_Arn._ I understand you Bawd Sir,
+And such a Counsellour I never car'd for.
+
+_Enter the_ Governour, Clodio, Leopold, Charino _and_
+Attendants _at one door_, Hippolyta _at the other._
+
+_Hip._ Your Lordship does me honour.
+
+_Gover._ Fair _Hippolyta_,
+I am come to ease you of a charge.
+
+_Hip._ I keep none
+I count a burthen Sir: and yet I lye too.
+
+_Gover._ Which is the Maid; is she here?
+
+_Clod._ Yes Sir,
+This is she, this is _Zenocia_,
+The very same I sued to your Lordship for.
+
+_Zen._ _Clodio_ again? more misery? more ruin?
+Under what angry star is my life govern'd?
+
+_Gov._ Come hither Maid, you are once more a free woman,
+Here I discharge your bonds.
+
+_Arn._ Another smile,
+Another trick of fortune to betray us!
+
+_Hip._ Why does your Lordship use me so unnobly?
+Against my will to take away my bond-woman?
+
+_Gov._ She was no lawful prize, therefore no bond-woman:
+She's of that Country we hold friendship with,
+And ever did, and therefore to be used
+With entertainment, fair and courteous.
+The breach of League in us gives foul example,
+Therefore you must be pleas'd to think this honest;
+Did you know what she was?
+
+_Leop._ Not till this instant;
+For had I known her, she had been no prisoner.
+
+_Gov._ There, take the Maid, she is at her own dispose now,
+And if there be ought else to do your honour
+Any poor service in--
+
+_Clod._ I am vowed your servant.
+
+_Arn._ Your Father's here too, that's our only comfort,
+And in a Country now, we stand free people,
+Where _Clodio_ has no power, be comforted.
+
+_Zen._ I fear some trick yet.
+
+_Arn._ Be not so dejected.
+
+_Gover._ You must not be displeas'd; so farewel Lady.
+Come Gentlemen; Captain, you must with me too,
+I have a little business.
+
+_Leop._ I attend your Lordship:
+Now my way's free, and my hope's Lord again.
+ [_Exeunt all but_ Hip. _and_ Zab.
+
+_Hip._ D'ye jeer me now ye are going?
+I may live yet--to make you howl both.
+
+_Zab._ You might have done; you had power then,
+But now the chains are off, the command lost,
+And such a story they will make of this
+To laugh out lazie time.
+
+_Hip._ No means yet left me?
+For now I burst with anger: none to satisfie me?
+No comfort? no revenge?
+
+_Zab._ You speak too late;
+You might have had all these, your useful servants,
+Had you been wise, and suddain: what power, or will
+Over her beauty, have you now? by violence
+To constrain his love; she is as free as you are,
+And no law can impeach her liberty,
+And whilst she is so, _Arnoldo_ will despise you.
+
+_Hip._ Either my love or anger must be satisfied,
+Or I must dye.
+
+_Zab._ I have a way wou'd do it,
+Wou'd do it yet, protect me from the Law.
+
+_Hip._ From any thing; thou knowest what power I have,
+What mony, and what friends.
+
+_Zab._ 'Tis a devilish one:
+But such must now be us'd: walk in, I'le tell you;
+And if you like it, if the Devil can do any thing--
+
+_Hip._ Devil, or what thou wilt, so I be satisfied. [_Ex._
+
+_Enter_ Sulpitia, _and_ Jaques.
+
+_Sulp._ This is the rarest and the lustiest fellow,
+And so bestirs himself--
+
+_Jaq._ Give him breath Mistress,
+You'l melt him else.
+
+_Sulp._ He does perform such wonders--
+The women are mad on him.
+
+_Jaq._ Give him breath I say;
+The man is but a man, he must have breath.
+
+_Sulp._ How many had he yesterday?
+And they paid bravely too.
+
+_Jaq._ About fourteen,
+But still I cry give breath, spare him and have him.
+
+_Sulp._ Five Dames to day; this was a small stage,
+He may endure five more.
+
+_Jaq._ Breath, breath I cry still;
+Body o' me give breath, the man's a lost man else.
+Feed him and give him breath.
+
+_Enter_ 2 Gentlewomen.
+
+_Sulp._ Welcome Gentlewomen,
+Y'are very welcome.
+
+_1 Gen._ We hear you have a lusty and well complexion'd fellow
+That does rare tricks; my Sister and my self here,
+Would trifle out an hour or two, so please you.
+
+_Sulp._ _Jaques_, conduct 'em in.
+
+_Both._ There's for your courtesie. [_Ex._ Jaq. _and_ Gent.
+
+_Sulp._ Good pay still, good round pay, this happy fellow
+Will set me up again; he brings in gold
+Faster than I have leisure to receive it.
+O that his body were not flesh and fading;
+But I'le so pap him up--nothing too dear for him;
+What a sweet scent he has?--Now what news _Jaques_?
+
+_Jaq._ He cannot last, I pity the poor man,
+I suffer for him; two Coaches of young City dames,
+And they drive as the Devil were in the wheels,
+Are ready now to enter: and behind these
+An old dead-palsied Lady in a Litter,
+And she makes all the haste she can: the man's lost,
+You may gather up his dry bones to make Nine-pins,
+But for his flesh.
+
+_Sulp._ These are but easie labours
+Yet, for I know he must have rest.
+
+_Ja._ He must--you'll beat him off his legs else presently.
+
+_Sul._ Go in, and bid him please himself, I am pleas'd too:
+To morrow's a new day; but if he can
+I would have him take pity o' the old Lady.
+Alas 'tis charity.
+
+_Jaq._ I'le tell him all this,
+And if he be not too fool-hardy.
+
+_Enter_ Zabulon.
+
+_Sulp._ How now?
+What news with you?
+
+_Zab._ You must presently
+Shew all the art you have, and for my Lady.
+
+_Sulp._ She may command.
+
+_Zab._ You must not dream nor trifle.
+
+_Sulp._ Which way?
+
+_Zab._ A spell you must prepare, a powerful one,
+Peruse but these directions, you shall find all;
+There is the picture too, be quick, and faithful,
+And do it with that strength--when 'tis perform'd,
+Pitch your reward at what you please, you have it.
+
+_Sul._ I'le do my best, and suddenly: but hark ye,
+Will you never lye at home again?
+
+_Zab._ Excuse me,
+I have too much business yet.
+
+_Sulp._ I am right glad on't.
+
+_Zab._ Think on your business, so farewel.
+
+_Sulp._ I'le do it.
+
+_Zab._ Within this hour I'le visit you again
+And give you greater lights.
+
+_Sulp._ I shall observe ye;
+This brings a brave reward, bravely I'le do it,
+And all the hidden art I have, express in't. [_Exeunt at both doors._
+
+_Enter_ Rutilio _with a Night-cap._
+
+_Rut._ Now do I look as if I were Crow-trodden,
+Fye, how my hams shrink under me! O me,
+I am broken-winded too; is this a life?
+Is this the recreation I have aim'd at?
+I had a body once, a handsome body,
+And wholesome too. Now I appear like a rascal,
+That had been hung a year or two in Gibbets.
+Fye how I faint! women? keep me from women;
+Place me before a Cannon, 'tis a pleasure;
+Stretch me upon a Rack, a recreation;
+But women? women? O the Devil! women?
+_Curtius_ Gulf was never half so dangerous.
+Is there no way to find the Trap-door again,
+And fall into the Cellar, and be taken?
+No lucky fortune to direct me that way?
+No Gallies to be got, nor yet no Gallows?
+For I fear nothing now, no earthly thing
+But these unsatisfied Men-leeches, women.
+How devilishly my bones ake! O the old Lady!
+I have a kind of waiting-woman lyes cross my back too,
+O how she stings! no treason to deliver me?
+Now what are you? do you mock me?
+
+ _Enter_ 3. _with Night-caps very faintly._
+
+_1_ No Sir, no;
+We were your Predecessors in this place.
+
+_2_ And come to see you bear up.
+
+_Rut._ Good Gentlemen;
+You seem to have a snuffing in your head Sir,
+A parlous snuffing, but this same dampish air--
+
+_2_ A dampish air indeed.
+
+_Rut._ Blow your face tenderly,
+Your nose will ne're endure it: mercy o' me,
+What are men chang'd to here? is my nose fast yet?
+Me thinks it shakes i'th' hilts: pray tell me gentlemen,
+How long is't since you flourisht here?
+
+_3_ Not long since.
+
+_Rut._ Move your self easily, I see you are tender,
+Nor long endured.
+
+_2_ The labour was so much Sir,
+And so few to perform it--
+
+_Rut._ Must I come to this?
+And draw my legs after me like a lame Dog?
+I cannot run away, I am too feeble:
+Will you sue for this place again Gentlemen?
+
+_1_ No truly Sir, the place has been too warm for our complexions.
+We have enough on't, rest you merry Sir,
+We came but to congratulate your fortune,
+You have abundance.
+
+_3_ Bear your fortune soberly,
+And so we leave you to the next fair Lady. [_Ex. the_ 3.
+
+_Rut._ Stay but a little, and I'le meet you Gentlemen,
+At the next Hospital: there's no living thus,
+Nor am I able to endure it longer,
+With all the helps and heats that can be given me,
+I am at my trot already: they are fair and young
+Most of the women that repair unto me,
+But they stick on like Burs, shake me like Feathers.
+
+_Enter_ Sulpitia.
+
+More Women yet?
+Would I were honestly married
+To any thing that had but half a face,
+And not a groat to keep her, nor a smock,
+That I might be civilly merry when I pleased,
+Rather than labouring in these Fulling-mills.
+
+_Sul._ By this the spell begins to work: you are lusty,
+I see you bear up bravely yet.
+
+_Rut._ Do you hear Lady,
+Do not make a game-bear of me, to play me hourly,
+And fling on all your whelps; it would not hold;
+Play me with some discretion; to day one course,
+And two dayes hence another.
+
+_Sulp._ If you be so angry
+Pay back the mony I redeem'd you at
+And take your course, I can have men enough:
+You have cost me a hundred crowns since you came hither,
+In Broths and strength[n]ing Caudles; till you do pay me,
+If you will eat and live, you shall endeavour,
+I'le chain you to't else.
+
+_Rut._ Make me a Dog-kennel,
+I'le keep your house and bark, and feed on bare bones,
+And be whipt out o' doors,
+Do you mark me Lady? whipt,
+I'le eat old shoes.
+
+_Enter_ Duarte.
+
+_Dua._ In this house I am told
+There is a stranger, of a goodly person,
+And such a one there was; if I could see him,
+I yet remember him.
+
+_Sulp._ Your business Sir,
+If it be for a woman, ye are couzen'd,
+I keep none here. [_Exit._
+
+_Dua._ Certain this is the Gentleman;
+The very same.
+
+_Rut._ Death, if I had but mony,
+Or any friend to bring me from this bondage,
+I would Thresh, set up a Cobler's shop, keep Hogs,
+And feed with 'em, sell Tinder-boxes,
+And Knights of Ginger-bread, Thatch for three
+Half pence a day, and think it Lordly,
+From this base Stallion trade: why does he eye me,
+Eye me so narrowly?
+
+_Dua._ It seems you are troubled Sir,
+I heard you speak of want.
+
+_Rut._ 'Tis better hearing
+Far, than relieving Sir.
+
+_Dua._ I do not think so, you know me not.
+
+_Rut._ Not yet that I remember.
+
+_Dua._ You shall, and for your friend: I am beholding to ye,
+Greatly beholding Sir; if you remember,
+You fought with such a man, they call'd _Duarte_,
+A proud distemper'd man: he was my enemy,
+My mortal foe, you slew him fairly, nobly.
+
+_Rut._ Speak softly Sir, you do not mean to betray me,
+I wisht the Gallows, now th'are coming fairly.
+
+_Dua._ Be confident, for as I live, I love you,
+And now you shall perceive it: for that service,
+Me, and my purse command: there, take it to ye,
+'Tis gold, and no small sum, a thousand Duckets,
+Supply your want.
+
+_Rut._ But do you do this faithfully?
+
+_Dua._ If I mean ill, spit in my face and kick me:
+In what else I may serve you, Sir--
+
+_Rut._ I thank you,
+This is as strange to me as Knights adventures.
+I have a project, 'tis an honest one,
+And now I'le tempt my fortune.
+
+_Dua._ Trust me with it.
+
+_Rut._ You are so good and honest I must trust ye,
+'Tis but to carry a letter to a Lady
+That sav'd my life once.
+
+_Dua._ That will be most thankful,
+I will do't with all care.
+
+_Rut._ Where are you, white-broth?
+Now lusty blood,
+Come in, and tell your mony:
+'Tis ready here, no threats, nor no orations,
+Nor prayers now.
+
+_Sulp._ You do not mean to leave me.
+
+_Rut._ I'le live in Hell sooner than here, and cooler.
+Come quickly come, dispatch, this air's unwho[l]som:
+Quickly good Lady, quickly to't.
+
+_Sulp._ Well, since it must be,
+The next I'le fetter faster sure, and closer.
+
+_Rut._ And pick his bones, as y'have done mine, pox take ye.
+
+_Dua._ At my lodging for a while, you shall be quartered,
+And there take Physick for your health.
+
+_Rut._ I thank ye,
+I have found my angel now too, if I can keep him.
+ [_Exeunt omnes._
+
+
+
+
+_Actus Quintus. Scena Prima._
+
+
+_Enter Rutilio and Duarte._
+
+_Rut. You like the Letter?
+
+_Dua._ Yes, but I must tell you
+You tempt a desperate hazard, to sollicite
+The mother, (and the grieved one too, 'tis rumor'd)
+Of him you slew so lately.
+
+_Rut._ I have told you
+Some proofs of her affection, and I know not
+A nearer way to make her satisfaction
+For a lost Son, than speedily to help her
+To a good Husband; one that will beget
+Both Sons and Daughters, if she be not barren.
+I have had a breathing now, and have recovered
+What I lost in my late service, 'twas a hot one:
+It fired and fired me; but all thanks to you Sir,
+You have both freed and cool'd me.
+
+_Dua._ What is done Sir,
+I thought well done, and was in that rewarded,
+And therefore spare your thanks.
+
+_Rut._ I'le no more Whoring:
+This fencing 'twixt a pair of sheets, more wears one
+Than all the exercise in the world besides.
+To be drunk with good Canary, a meer Julip
+Or like gourd-water to't; twenty Surfeits
+Come short of one nights work there. If I get this Lady
+As ten to one I shall, I was ne're denied yet,
+I will live wondrous honestly; walk before her
+Gravely and demurely
+And then instruct my family; you are sad,
+What do you muse on Sir?
+
+_Dua._ Truth I was thinking
+What course to take for the delivery of your letter,
+And now I have it: but faith did this Lady
+(For do not gull your self) for certain know,
+You kill'd her Son?
+
+_Rut._ Give me a Book I'le swear't;
+Denyed me to the Officers, that pursued me,
+Brought me her self to th' door, then gave me gold
+To bear my charges, and shall I make doubt then
+But that she lov'd me? I am confident
+Time having ta'ne her grief off, that I shall be
+Most welcome to her: for then to have wooed her
+Had been unseasonable.
+
+_Dua._ Well Sir, there's more mony,
+To ma[ke] you handsome; I'le about your business:
+You know where you must stay?
+
+_Rut._ There you shall find me:
+Would I could meet my Brother now, to know,
+Whether the Jew, his Genius, or my Christian,
+Has prov'd the better friend. [_Exit._
+
+_Dua._ O who would trust
+Deceiving woman! or believe that one
+The best, and most Canoniz'd ever was
+More than a seeming goodness? I could rail now
+Against the sex, and curse it; but the theam
+And way's too common: yet that _Guiomar_
+My Mother; (nor let that forbid her to be
+The wonder of our nation) she that was
+Mark'd out the great example, for all Matrons
+Both Wife and Widow; she that in my breeding
+Exprest the utmost of a Mothers care,
+And tenderness to a Son; she that yet feigns
+Such sorrow for me; good God, that this mother,
+After all this, should give up to a stranger,
+The wreak she ow'd her Son; I fear her honour.
+That he was sav'd, much joyes me, and grieve only
+That she was his preserver. I'le try further,
+And by this Engine, find whether the tears,
+Of which she is so prodigal, are for me,
+Or us'd to cloak her base hypocrisie. [_Exit._
+
+_Enter_ Hippolyta _and_ Sulpitia.
+
+_Hip._ Are you assur'd the charm prevails?
+
+_Sulp._ Do I live?
+Or do you speak to me? Now this very instant
+Health takes its last leave of her; meager paleness
+Like winter, nips the Roses and the Lilies,
+The Spring that youth, and love adorn'd her face with.
+To force affection, is beyond our art,
+For I have prov'd all means that hell has taught me,
+Or the malice of a woman, which exceeds it,
+To change _Arnoldo's_ love, but to no purpose:
+But for your bond-woman--
+
+_Hip._ Let her pine and dye;
+She remov'd, which like a brighter Sun,
+Obscures my beams, I may shine out again,
+And as I have been, be admir'd and sought to:
+How long has she to live?
+
+_Sulp._ Lady, before
+The Sun twice rise and set, be confident,
+She is but dead; I know my Charm hath found her.
+Nor can the Governours Guard; her lovers tears;
+Her Fathers sorrow, or his power that freed her,
+Defend her from it.
+
+_Enter_ Zabulon.
+
+_Zab._ All things have succeeded,
+As you could wish; I saw her brought sick home;
+The image of pale death, stampt on her fore-head.
+Let me adore this second Hecate,
+This great Commandress, of the fatal Sisters,
+That as she pleases, can cut short, or lengthen
+The thread of life.
+
+_Hip._ Where was she when the inchantment
+First seis'd upon her?
+
+_Zab._ Taking the fresh air,
+In the company of the Governour, and Count _Clodio_,
+_Arnoldo_ too, was present with her Father,
+When, in a moment (so the servants told me)
+As she was giving thanks to the Governour,
+And _Clodio_, for her unexpected freedom,
+As if she had been blasted, she sunk down,
+To their amazement.
+
+_Hip._ 'Tis thy master-piece
+Which I will so reward, that thou shalt fix here,
+And with the hazard of thy life, no more
+Make tryal of thy powerful Art; which known
+Our Laws call death: off with this Magical Robe,
+And be thy self.
+
+_Enter_ Governour, Clodio, _and_ Charino.
+
+_Sulp._ Stand close, you shall hear more.
+
+_Man._ You must have patience; all rage is vain now,
+And piety forbids, that we should question
+What is decreed above, or ask a reason
+Why heaven determines this or that way of us.
+
+_Clod._ Heaven has no hand in't; 'tis a work of hell.
+Her life hath been so innocent, all her actions
+So free from the suspicion of crime,
+As rather she deserves a Saints place here,
+Than to endure, what now her sweetness suffers.
+
+_Char._ Not for her fault, but mine Sir, _Zenocia_ suffers:
+The sin I made, when I sought to rase down
+_Arnoldo's_ love, built on a Rock of truth,
+Now to the height is punish'd. I profess,
+Had he no birth, nor parts, the present sorrow
+He now expresses for her, does deserve her
+Above all Kings, though such had been his rivals.
+
+_Clod._ All ancient stories, of the love of Husbands
+To vertuous Wives, be now no more remembred.
+
+_Char._ The tales of _Turtles_, ever be forgotten,
+Or, for his sake believ'd.
+
+_Man._ I have heard, there has been
+Between some married pairs, such sympathy,
+That th' Husband has felt really the throws
+His Wife then teeming suffers, this true grief
+Confirms, 'tis not impossible.
+
+_Clod._ We shall find
+Fit time for this hereafter; let's use now
+All possible means to help her.
+
+_Man._ Care, nor cost,
+Nor what Physicians can do, shall be wanting;
+Make use of any means or men.
+
+_Char._ You are noble.
+ [_Exeunt_ Man. Clod, _and_ Char.
+
+_Sulp._ Ten Colledges of Doctors shall not save her.
+Her fate is in your hand.
+
+_Hip._ Can I restore her?
+
+_Sulp._ If you command my Art.
+
+_Hip._ I'le dye my self first.
+And yet I'le go visit her, and see
+This miracle of sorrow in _Arnoldo_:
+And 'twere for me, I should change places with her,
+And dye most happy, such a lovers tears
+Were a rich monument, but too good for her,
+Whose misery I glory in: come _Sulpitia_,
+You shall along with me, good _Zabulon_
+Be not far off.
+
+_Zab._ I will attend you Madam. [_Exeunt._
+
+_Enter_ Duarte, _and a_ Servant.
+
+_Ser._ I have serv'd you from my youth, and ever
+You have found me faithful: that you live's a treasure
+I'le lock up here; nor shall it be let forth,
+But when you give me warrant.
+
+_Dua._ I rely
+Upon thy faith; nay, no more protestations,
+Too many of them will call that in question,
+Which now I doubt not: she is there?
+
+_Ser._ Alone too,
+But take it on my life, your entertainment,
+Appearing as you are, will be but course,
+For the displeasure I shall undergo
+I am prepar'd.
+
+_Dua._ Leave me, I'le stand the hazard. [_Exit_ Servant.
+The silence that's observ'd, her close retirements,
+No visitants admitted, not the day;
+These sable colours, all signs of true sorrow,
+Or hers is deeply counterfeit. I'le look nearer,
+Manners give leave--she sits upon the ground;
+By heaven she weeps; my picture in her hand too;
+She kisses it and weeps again.
+
+_Enter_ Guiomar.
+
+_Gui._ Who's there?
+
+_Dua._ There is no starting back now Madam.
+
+_Gui._ Ha, another murderer! I'le not protect thee,
+Though I have no more Sons.
+
+_Dua._ Your pardon Lady,
+There's no such foul fact taints me.
+
+_Gui._ What makes thou here then?
+Where are my servants, do none but my sorrows
+Attend upon me? speak, what brought thee hither?
+
+_Dua._ A will to give you comfort.
+
+_Gui._ Thou art but a man.
+And 'tis beyond a humane reach to do it,
+If thou could raise the dead out of their graves,
+Bid time run back, make me now what I was,
+A happy Mother; gladly I would hear thee,
+But that's impossible.
+
+_Dua._ Please you but read this;
+You shall know better there, why I am sent,
+Than if I should deliver it.
+
+_Gui._ From whom comes it?
+
+_Dua._ That will instruct you. I suspect this stranger,
+Yet she spake something that holds such alliance
+With his reports; I know not what to think on't;
+What a frown was there? she looks me through, & through,
+Now reads again, now pauses, and now smiles;
+And yet there's more of anger in't than mirth,
+These are strange changes; oh I understand it,
+She's full of serious thoughts.
+
+_Gui._ You are just, you Heavens,
+And never do forget to hear their prayers,
+That truly pay their vows, the defer'd vengeance,
+For you, and my words sake so long defer'd,
+Under which as a mountain my heart groans yet
+When 'twas despair'd of, now is offer'd to me;
+And if I lose it, I am both wayes guilty.
+The womans mask, dissimulation help me.
+Come hither friend, I am sure you know the Gentleman,
+That sent these charms.
+
+_Dua._ Charms Lady?
+
+_Gui._ These charms;
+I well may call them so, they've won upon me,
+More than ere letter did; thou art his friend,
+(The confidence he has in thee, confirms it)
+And therefore I'le be open breasted to thee;
+To hear of him, though yet I never saw him,
+Was most desir'd of all men; let me blush,
+And then I'le say I love him.
+
+_Dua._ All men see,
+In this a womans vertue.
+
+_Gui._ I expected
+For the courtesie I did, long since to have seen him,
+And though I then forbad it, you men know,
+Between our hearts and tongues there's a large distance;
+But I'le excuse him, may be hitherto
+He has forborn it, in respect my Son
+Fell by his hand.
+
+_Dua._ And reason Lady.
+
+_Gui._ No, he did me a pleasure in't, a riotous fellow,
+And with that insolent, not worth the owning;
+I have indeed kept a long solemn sorrow,
+For my friends sake partly; but especially
+For his long absence.
+
+_Dua._ O the Devil.
+
+_Guio._ Therefore
+Bid him be speedy; a Priest shall be ready
+To tye the holy knot; this kiss I send him,
+Deliver that and bring him.
+
+_Dua._ I am dumb:
+A good cause I have now, and a good sword,
+And something I shall do, I wait upon you. [_Exeunt._
+
+_Enter_ Manuel, Charino, Arnoldo, Zenocia, _born in a chair_. 2 Doctors,
+Clodio.
+
+_Doct._ Give her more air, she dyes else.
+
+_Arn._ O thou dread power,
+That mad'st this all, and of thy workmanship
+This virgin wife, the Master piece, look down on her;
+Let her minds virtues, cloth'd in this fair garment,
+That worthily deserves a better name
+Than flesh and bloud, now sue, and prevail for her.
+Or if those are denyed, let innocence,
+To which all passages in Heaven stand open,
+Appear in her white robe, before thy throne;
+And mediate for her: or if this age of sin
+Be worthy of a miracle, the Sun
+In his diurnal progress never saw
+So sweet a subject to imploy it on.
+
+_Man._ Wonders are ceas'd Sir, we must work by means.
+
+_Arno._ 'Tis true, and such reverend Physicians are;
+To you thus low I fall then; so may you ever
+Be stil'd the hands of Heaven, natures restorers;
+Get wealth and honours; and by your success,
+In all your undertakings, propagate
+Your great opinion in the world, as now
+You use your saving art; for know good Gentlemen,
+Besides the fame, and all that I possess,
+For a reward, posterity shall stand
+Indebted to you, for (as Heaven forbid it)
+Should my _Zenocia_ dye, robbing this age
+Of all that's good or gracefull, times succeeding,
+The story of her pure life not yet perfect,
+Will suffer in the want of her example.
+
+_Doct._ Were all the world to perish with her, we
+Can do no more, than what art and experience
+Give us assurance of, we have us'd all means
+To find the cause of her disease, yet cannot;
+How should we then, promise the cure?
+
+_Arn._ Away,
+I did bely you, when I charg'd you with
+The power of doing, ye are meer names only,
+And even your best perfection, accidental;
+What ever malady thou art, or Spirit,
+As some hold all diseases that afflict us,
+As love already makes me sensible
+Of half her sufferings, ease her of her part,
+And let me stand the butt of thy fell malice,
+And I will swear th'art mercifull.
+
+_Doct._ Your hand Lady;
+What a strange heat is here! bring some warm water.
+
+_Arn._ She shall use nothing that is yours; my sorrow
+Provides her of a better bath, my tears
+Shall do that office.
+
+_Zeno._ O my best _Arnoldo_!
+The truest of all lovers! I would live
+Were heaven so pleas'd, but to reward your sorrow
+With my true service; but since that's denied me,
+May you live long and happy: do not suffer
+(By your affection to me I conjure you)
+My sickness to infect you; though much love
+Makes you too subject to it.
+
+_Arn._ In this only
+
+_Zenocia_ wrongs her servant; can the body
+Subsist, the Soul departed? 'tis as easie
+As I to live without you; I am your husband,
+And long have been so, though our adverse fortune,
+Bandying us from one hazard to another,
+Would never grant me so much happiness,
+As to pay a husbands debt; despite of fortune,
+In death I'le follow you, and guard mine own;
+And there enjoy what here my fate forbids me.
+
+_Clod._ So true a sorrow, and so feelingly
+Exprest, I never read of.
+
+_Man._ I am struck
+With wonder to behold it, as with pity.
+
+_Char._ If you that are a stranger, suffer for them,
+Being tied no further than humanity
+Leads you to soft compassion; think great Sir,
+What of necessity I must endure,
+That am a Father?
+
+Hippolyta, Zabulon, _and_ Sulpitia _at the door._
+
+_Zab._ Wait me there, I hold it
+Unfit to have you seen; as I find cause,
+You shall proceed.
+
+_Man._ You are welcom Lady.
+
+_Hip._ Sir, I come to do a charitable office,
+How does the patient?
+
+_Clod._ You may enquire
+Of more than one; for two are sick, and deadly,
+He languishes in her, her health's despair'd of,
+And in hers, his.
+
+_Hip._ 'Tis a strange spectacle,
+With what a patience they sit unmov'd!
+Are they not dead already?
+
+_Doct._ By her pulse,
+She cannot last a day.
+
+_Arn._ Oh by that summons,
+I know my time too!
+
+_Hip._ Look to the man.
+
+_Clod._ Apply
+Your Art, to save the Lady, preserve her,
+A town is your reward.
+
+_Hip. I'le treble it,
+In ready gold, if you restore _Arnoldo_;
+For in his death I dye too.
+
+_Clod._ Without her
+I am no more.
+
+_Arn._ Are you there Madam? now
+You may feast on my miseries; my coldness
+In answering your affections, or hardness,
+Give it what name you please, you are reveng'd of,
+For now you may perceive, our thred of life
+Was spun together, and the poor _Arnoldo_
+Made only to enjoy the best _Zenocia_,
+And not to serve the use of any other;
+And in that she may equal; my Lord _Clodio_
+Had long since else enjoyed her, nor could I
+Have been so blind, as not to see your great
+And many excellencies far, far beyond
+Or my deservings, or my hopes; we are now
+Going our latest journey, and together,
+Our only comfort we desire, pray give it,
+Your charity to our ashes, such we must be,
+And not to curse our memories.
+
+_Hip._ I am much mov'd.
+
+_Clod._ I am wholly overcome, all love to women
+Farewell for ever; ere you dye, your pardon;
+And yours Sir; had she many years to live,
+Perhaps I might look on her, as a Brother,
+But as a lover never; and since all
+Your sad misfortunes had original
+From the barbarous Custom practis'd in my Country,
+Heaven witness, for your sake I here release it;
+So to your memory, chaste Wives and Virgins
+Shall ever pay their vowes. I give her to you;
+And wish, she were so now, as when my lust
+Forc'd you to quit the Country.
+
+_Hip._ It is in vain
+To strive with destiny, here my dotage ends,
+Look up _Zenocia_, health in me speaks to you;
+She gives him to you, that by divers ways,
+So long has kept him from you: and repent not,
+That you were once my servant, for which health
+In recompence of what I made you suffer,
+The hundred thousand Crowns, the City owes me,
+Shall be your dower.
+
+_Man._ 'Tis a magnificent gift,
+Had it been timely given.
+
+_Hip._ It is believe it, _Sulpitia_.
+
+_Enter a_ Servant, _and_ Sulpitia.
+
+_Sulp._ Madam.
+
+_Hip._ Quick, undoe the charm;
+Ask not a reason why; let it suffice,
+It is my will.
+
+_Sulp._ Which I obey and gladly. [_Exit._
+
+_Man._ Is to be married, sayest thou?
+
+_Ser._ So she sayes Sir,
+And does desire your presence. [_They are born off in chairs._
+
+_Man._ And tell her I'le come.
+
+_Hip._ Pray carry them to their rest; for though already,
+They do appear as dead, let my life pay for't,
+If they recover not.
+
+_Man._ What you have warranted,
+Assure your self, will be expected from you;
+Look to them carefully; and till the tryal,--
+
+_Hip._ Which shall not be above four hours.
+
+_Man._ Let me
+Intreat your companies: there is something
+Of weight invites me hence.
+
+_All._ We'll wait upon you. [_Exeunt._
+
+_Enter_ Guiomar, _and_ Servants.
+
+_Guio._ You understand what my directions are,
+And what they guide you to; the faithfull promise
+You have made me all.
+
+_All._ We do and will perform it.
+
+_Guio._ The Governour will not fail to be here presently;
+Retire a while, till you shall find occasion,
+And bring me word, when they arrive.
+
+_All._ Wee shall Madam.
+
+_Guio._ Only stay you to entertain.
+
+_1 Ser._ I am ready.
+
+_Guio._ I wonder at the bold, and practis'd malice,
+Men ever have o' foot against our honours,
+That nothing we can do, never so vertuous,
+No shape put on so pious, no not think
+What a good is, be that good ne're so noble,
+Never so laden with admir'd example,
+But still we end in lust; our aims, our actions,
+Nay, even our charities, with lust are branded;
+Why should this stranger else, this wretched stranger,
+Whose life I sav'd at what dear price sticks here yet,
+Why should he hope? he was not here an hour,
+And certainly in that time, I may swear it
+I gave him no loose look, I had no reason;
+Unless my tears were flames, my curses courtships;
+The killing of my Son, a kindness to me.
+Why should he send to me, or with what safety
+(Examining the ruine he had wrought me)
+Though at that time, my pious pity found him,
+And my word fixt; I am troubled, strongly troubled.
+
+_Enter a_ Servant.
+
+_Ser._ The Gentlemen are come.
+
+_Guio._ Then bid 'em welcome--I must retire. [_Exit._
+
+_Enter_ Rutilio, _and_ Duarte.
+
+_Ser._ You are welcom Gentlemen.
+
+_Rut._ I thank you friend, I would speak with your Lady.
+
+_Ser._ I'le let her understand.
+
+_Rut._ It shall befit you.
+How do I look Sir, in this handsome trim? [_Exit_ Servant.
+Me thinks I am wondrous brave.
+
+_Duar._ You are very decent.
+
+_Rut._ These by themselves, without more helps of nature,
+Would set a woman hard; I know 'em all,
+And where their first aims light; I'le lay my head on't,
+I'le take her eye, as soon as she looks on me,
+And if I come to speak once, woe be to her,
+I have her in a nooze, she cannot scape me;
+I have their several lasts.
+
+_Dua._ You are throughly studied,
+But tell me Sir, being unacquainted with her,
+As you confess you are--
+
+_Rut._ That's not an hours work,
+I'le make a Nun forget her beads in two hours.
+
+_Dua._ She being set in years, next none of those lusters
+Appearing in her eye, that warm the fancy;
+Nor nothing in her face, but handsom ruines.
+
+_Rut._ I love old stories: those live believ'd, Authentique,
+When 20. of your modern faces are call'd in,
+For new opinion, paintings, and corruptions;
+Give me an old confirm'd face; besides she sav'd me,
+She sav'd my life, have I not cause to love her?
+She's rich and of a constant state, a fair one,
+Have I not cause to wooe her? I have tryed sufficient
+All your young Phillies, I think this back has try'd 'em,
+And smarted for it too: they run away with me,
+Take bitt between the teeth, and play the Devils;
+A staied pace now becomes my years; a sure one,
+Where I may sit and crack no girths.
+
+_Dua._ How miserable,
+If my Mother should confirm, what I suspect now,
+Beyond all humane cure were my condition!
+Then I shall wish, this body had been so too.
+Here comes the Lady Sir.
+
+_Enter_ Guiomar.
+
+_Rut._ Excellent Lady,
+To shew I am a creature, bound to your service,
+And only yours--
+
+_Guio._ Keep at that distance Sir;
+For if you stir--
+
+_Rut._ I am obedient.
+She has found already, I am for her turn;
+With what a greedy hawks eye she beholds me!
+Mark how she musters all my parts.
+
+_Guio._ A goodly Gentleman,
+Of a more manly set, I never look'd on.
+
+_Rut._ Mark, mark her eyes still; mark but the carriage of 'em.
+
+_Guio._ How happy am I now, since my Son fell,
+He fell not by a base unnoble hand!
+As that still troubled me; how far more happy
+Shall my revenge be, since the Sacrifice,
+I offer to his grave, shall be both worthy
+A Sons untimely loss, and a Mothers sorrow!
+
+_Rut._ Sir, I am made believe it; she is mine own,
+I told you what a spell I carried with me,
+All this time does she spend in contemplation
+Of that unmatch'd delight: I shall be thankfull to ye;
+And if you please to know my house, to use it;
+To take it for your own.
+
+_Guio._ Who waits without there?
+
+_Enter_ Guard, _and_ Servants, _they seize upon_ Rut. _and bind him._
+
+_Rut._ How now? what means this, Lady?
+
+_Guio._ Bind him fast.
+
+_Rut._ Are these the bride-laces you prepare for me?
+The colours that you give?
+
+_Dua._ Fye Gentle Lady,
+This is not noble dealing.
+
+_Guio._ Be you satisfied,
+I[t] seems you are a stranger to this meaning,
+You shall not be so long.
+
+_Rut._ Do you call this wooing--Is there no end of womens persecutions?
+Must I needs fool into mine own destruction?
+Have I not had fair warnings, and enough too?
+Still pick the Devils teeth? you are not mad Lady;
+Do I come fairly, and like a Gentleman,
+To offer you that honour?
+
+_Guio._ You are deceiv'd Sir,
+You come besotted, to your own destruction:
+I sent not for you; what honour can ye add to me,
+That brake that staff of honour, my age lean'd on?
+That rob'd me of that right, made me a Mother?
+Hear me thou wretched man, hear me with terrour,
+And let thine own bold folly shake thy Soul,
+Hear me pronounce thy death, that now hangs o're thee,
+Thou desperate fool; who bad thee seek this ruine?
+What mad unmanly fate, made thee discover
+Thy cursed face to me again? was't not enough
+To have the fair protection of my house,
+When misery and justice close pursued thee?
+When thine own bloudy sword, cryed out against thee,
+Hatcht in the life of him? yet I forgave thee.
+My hospitable word, even when I saw
+The goodliest branch of all my blood lopt from me,
+Did I not seal still to thee?
+
+_Rut._ I am gone.
+
+_Guio._ And when thou went'st, to Imp thy miserie,
+Did I not give thee means? but hark ungratefull,
+Was it not thus? to hide thy face and fly me?
+To keep thy name for ever from my memory?
+Thy cursed blood and kindred? did I not swear then,
+If ever, (in this wretched life thou hast left me,
+Short and unfortunate,) I saw thee again,
+Or came but to the knowledge, where thou wandredst,
+To call my vow back, and pursue with vengeance
+With all the miseries a Mother suffers?
+
+_Rut._ I was born to be hang'd, there's no avoiding it.
+
+_Guio._ And dar'st thou with this impudence appear here?
+Walk like the winding sheet my Son was put in,
+Stand with those wounds?
+
+_Dua._ I am happy now again;
+Happy the hour I fell, to find a Mother,
+So pious, good, and excellent in sorrows.
+
+_Enter a_ Servant.
+
+_Ser._ The Governour's come in.
+
+_Guio._ O let him enter.
+
+_Rut._ I have fool'd my self a fair thred of all my fortunes,
+This strikes me most; not that I fear to perish,
+But that this unmannerly boldness has brought me to it.
+
+_Enter_ Governour, Clodio, Charino.
+
+_Gov._ Are these fit preparations for a wedding Lady?
+I came prepar'd a guest.
+
+_Guio._ O give me justice;
+As ever you will leave a vertuous name,
+Do justice, justice, Sir.
+
+_Gove._ You need not ask it,
+I am bound to it.
+
+_Guio._ Justice upon this man
+That kill'd my Son.
+
+_Gove._ Do you confess the act?
+
+_Rut._ Yes Sir.
+
+_Clod._ _Rutilio_?
+
+_Char._ 'Tis the same.
+
+_Clod._ How fell he thus?
+Here will be sorrow for the good _Arnoldo_.
+
+_Gove._ Take heed Sir what you say.
+
+_Rut._ I have weigh'd it well,
+I am the man, nor is it life I start at;
+Only I am unhappy I am poor,
+Poor in expence of lives, there I am wretched,
+That I have not two lives lent me for his sacrifice;
+One for her Son, another for her sorrows.
+Excellent Lady, now rejoyce again,
+For though I cannot think, y'are pleas'd in blood,
+Nor with that greedy thirst pursue your vengeance;
+The tenderness, even in those tears denies that;
+Yet let the world believe, you lov'd _Duarte_;
+The unmatcht courtesies you have done my miseries;
+Without this forfeit to the law, would charge me
+To tender you this life, and proud 'twould please you.
+
+_Guio._ Shall I have justice?
+
+_Gover._ Yes.
+
+_Rut._ I'le ask it for ye,
+I'le follow it my self, against my self.
+Sir, 'Tis most fit I dye; dispatch it quickly,
+The monstrous burthen of that grief she labours with
+Will kill her else, then blood on blood lyes on me;
+Had I a thousand lives, I'd give 'em all,
+Before I would draw one tear more from that vertue.
+
+_Guio._ Be not too cruel Sir, and yet his bold sword--
+But his life cannot restore that, he's a man too--
+Of a fair promise, but alas my Son's dead;
+If I have justice, must it kill him?
+
+_Gov._ Yes.
+
+_Guio._ If I have not, it kills me, strong and goodly!
+Why should he perish too?
+
+_Gover._ It lies in your power,
+You only may accuse him, or may quit him.
+
+_Clod._ Be there no other witnesses?
+
+_Guio._ Not any.
+And if I save him, will not the world proclaim,
+I have forgot a Son, to save a murderer?
+And yet he looks not like one, he looks manly.
+
+_Hip._ Pity so brave a Gentleman should perish.
+She cannot be so hard, so cruel hearted.
+
+_Guio._ Will you pronounce? yet stay a little Sir.
+
+_Rut._ Rid your self, Lady, of this misery;
+And let me go, I do but breed more tempests,
+With which you are already too much shaken.
+
+_Guio._ Do now, pronounce; I will not hear.
+
+_Dua._ You shall not,
+Yet turn and see good Madam.
+
+_Gove._ Do not wonder.
+'Tis he, restor'd again, thank the good Doctor,
+Pray do not stand amaz'd, it is _Duarte_;
+Is well, is safe again.
+
+_Guio._ O my sweet Son,
+I will not press my wonder now with questions--
+Sir, I am sorry for that cruelty,
+I urg'd against you.
+
+_Rut._ Madam, it was but justice.
+
+_Dua._ 'Tis [t]rue, the Doctor heal'd this body again,
+But this man heal'd my soul, made my minde perfect,
+The good sharp lessons his sword read to me, sav'd me;
+For which, if you lov'd me, dear Mother,
+Honour and love this man.
+
+_Guio._ You sent this letter?
+
+_Rut._ My boldness makes me blush now.
+
+_Guio._ I'le wipe off that,
+And with this kiss, I take you for my husband,
+Your wooing's done Sir; I believe you love me,
+And that's the wealth I look for now.
+
+_Rut._ You have it.
+
+_Dua._ You have ended my desire to all my wishes.
+
+_Gov._ Now 'tis a wedding again. And if _Hippolyta_
+Make good, what with the hazard of her life,
+She undertook, the evening will set clear
+
+_Enter_ Hippolyta, _leading_ Leopold, Arnoldo, Zenocia, _in either hand_,
+Zabulon, Sulpitia.
+
+After a stormy day.
+
+_Char._ Here comes the Lady.
+
+_Clod._ With fair _Zenocia_,
+Health with life again
+Restor'd unto her.
+
+_Zen._ The gift of her goodness.
+
+_Rut._ Let us embrace, I am of your order too,
+And though I once despair'd of women, now
+I find they relish much of Scorpions,
+For both have stings, and both can hurt, and cure too;
+But what have been your fortunes?
+
+_Arn._ Wee'l defer
+Our story, and at time more fit, relate it.
+Now all that reverence vertue, and in that
+_Zenocias_ constancy, and perfect love,
+Or for her sake _Arnoldo_, join with us
+In th' honour of this Lady.
+
+_Char._ She deserves it.
+
+_Hip._ _Hippolytas_ life shall make that good hereafter,
+Nor will I alone better my self but others:
+For these whose wants perhaps have made their actions
+Not altogether innocent, shall from me
+Be so supplied, that need shall not compel them,
+To any course of life, but what the law
+Shall give allowance to.
+
+_Zab._ _Sulpitia_, Your Ladiships creatures.
+
+_Rut._ Be so, and no more you man-huckster.
+
+_Hip._ And worthy _Leopold_, you that with such fervour,
+So long have sought me, and in that deserv'd me,
+Shall now find full reward for all your travels,
+Which you have made more dear by patient sufferance.
+And though my violent dotage did transport me,
+Beyond those bounds, my modesty should have kept in,
+Though my desires were loose, from unchast art
+Heaven knows I am free.
+
+_Leop._ The thought of that's dead to me;
+I gladly take your offer.
+
+_Rut._ Do so Sir,
+A piece of crackt gold ever will weigh down
+Silver that's whole.
+
+_Gov._ You shall be all my guests,
+I must not be denyed.
+
+_Arn._ Come my _Zenocia_.
+Our bark at length has found a quiet harbour;
+And the unspotted progress of our loves
+Ends not alone in safety, but reward,
+To instruct others, by our fair example;
+That though good purposes are long withstood,
+The hand of Heaven still guides such as are good.
+
+ [_Ex. omnes._
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+The Prologue.
+
+_So free this work is, Gentlemen, from offence,
+That we are confident, it needs no defence
+From us, or from the Poets--we dare look
+On any man, that brings his Table-book
+To write down, what again he may repeat
+At some great Table, to deserve his meat.
+Let such come swell'd with malice, to apply
+What is mirth here, there for an injurie.
+Nor Lord, nor Lady we have tax'd; nor State,
+Nor any private person, their poor hate
+Will be starved here, for envy shall not finde
+One touch that may be wrested to her minde.
+And yet despair not, Gentlemen, The play
+Is quick and witty; so the Poets say,
+And we believe them; the plot neat, and new,
+Fashion'd like those, that are approv'd by you.
+Only 'twill crave attention, in the most;
+Because one point unmarked, the whole is lost.
+Hear first then, and judge after, and be free,
+And as our cause is, let our censure be._
+
+
+
+
+Epilogue.
+
+
+_Why there should be an Epilogue to a play,
+I know no cause: the old and usuall way,
+For which they were made, was to entreat the grace
+Of such as were spectators in this place,
+And time, 'tis to no purpose; for I know
+What you resolve already to bestow,
+Will not be alter'd, what so e're I say,
+In the behalf of us, and of the Play;
+Only to quit our doubts, if you think fit,
+You may, or cry it up, or silence it._
+
+
+
+
+Another Prologue for the Custom of the Country.
+
+_We wish, if it were possible, you knew
+ What we would give for this nights look, if new.
+It being our ambition to delight
+ Our kind spectators with what's good, and right.
+Yet so far know, and credit me, 'twas made
+ By such, as were held work-men in their Trade,
+At a time too, when they as I divine,
+ Were truly merrie, and drank lusty wine,
+The nectar of the Muses; Some are here
+ I dare presume, to whom it did appear
+A well-drawn piece, which gave a lawfull birth
+ To passionate Scenes mixt with no vulgar mirth.
+But unto such to whom 'tis known by fame
+ From others, perhaps only by the name,
+I am a suitor, that they would prepare
+ Sound palats, and then judge their bill of fare.
+It were injustice to decry this now
+ For being like'd before, you may allow
+(Your candor safe) what's taught in the old schools,
+ All such as liv'd before you, were not fools._
+
+
+
+
+The Epilogue.
+
+_I spake much in the Prologue for the Play,
+ To its desert I hope, yet you might say
+Should I change now from that, which then was meant,
+ Or in a syllable grow less confident,
+I were weak-hearted. I am still the same
+ In my opinion, and forbear to frame
+Qualification, or excuse: If you
+ Concur with me, and hold my judgement true,
+Shew it with any sign, and from this place,
+ Or send me off exploded, or with grace._
+
+
+
+
+THE CUSTOM OF THE COUNTRY.
+
+A = The First Folio.
+
+p. 302,
+l. 2. A _omits_ Lists of Persons Represented in the Play
+ and of principal Actors.
+l. 49. Second Folio _misprints_] Arnolda.
+
+p. 303,
+l. 5. A] And that.
+l. 17. A] a conscience.
+l. 21. A] Customes.
+l. 24. A] In the world.
+
+p. 304,
+l. 25. A] it can.
+l. 36. A] I A dainty wench.
+l. 37. A _omits_] I.
+
+p. 305,
+l. 3. Second Folio _misprints_] yon.
+l. 11. A] wilde minde.
+l. 24. A] a heritage.
+
+p. 306,
+l. 14. A] De'e doubt tis day now.
+l. 15. A] pulses.
+
+p. 307,
+l. 32. A] This rogue that breaks.
+
+p. 308,
+l. 7. A] speake.
+
+p. 311,
+l. 31. A] alarums.
+
+p. 312,
+l. 14. A] this marring.
+l. 15. A] sheckles.
+ll. 26-28. A adds in the margin] _Boy ready for the songs._
+
+p. 313,
+l. 13. A] But such a ransome.
+ll. 28 and 29. A _adds_ marginal stage-direction]
+ _Bowle of wine ready._
+l. 31. A] And blushing and unloose.
+
+p. 314,
+l. 39. A] alarums.
+ll. 7 and 9. Second Folio] Arn.
+
+p. 316,
+l. 2. A] Pompean.
+l. 19. A] Ile ha' your life.
+l. 20. A prints this line as part of Charino's speech.
+
+p. 317,
+l. 8. A _omits_] A.
+l. 23. A _omits_] o're.
+
+p. 319,
+l. 8. A] Lisborne.
+
+p. 321,
+l. 21. A] renders.
+l. 35. A] Lisborne.
+
+p. 322,
+l. 14. A] aboord.
+l. 15. A] Yet my disguise.
+l. 30. A] the contempt.
+
+p. 325,
+l. 10. A] And he in Lisbon.
+ll. 22-26. This speech is printed in A as a continuation of
+ Arnoldo's.
+
+p. 326,
+ll. 18 and 19. A _adds_ in the margin] Tapers ready.
+l. 20. A] so, like a Turke.
+l. 26. Second Folio _misprints_] Of what.
+l. 34. Second Folio _misprints_] embace.
+
+p. 327,
+ll. 2-10. A gives all these lines to Rutilio.
+
+p. 328,
+ll. 5 and 6. A _adds_ in margin] Lights ready.
+l. 33. A _omits_] Fight.
+l. 35. A _omits_] Falls.
+l. 38. Second Folio _misprints_] Governous.
+
+p. 329,
+l. 4. A _omits_] 1.
+
+p. 331,
+l. 30. A prints marginal direction] Hold a purse ready.
+
+p. 333,
+l. 14. In A the words 'my state would rather ask a curse'
+ are printed by mistake between ll. 16 and 17.
+l. 23. A] sight.
+l. 30. A] her Chamber.
+
+p. 334.
+l. 17. A] but to a fortune.
+l. 21. A] bucket.
+l. 39. A prints the marginal direction (Musicke)
+ at the end of the following line.
+
+p. 335,
+l. 1. A _omits_] 1.
+l. 19. A] strike indeed.
+
+p. 336,
+l. 1. A] attend her.
+
+p. 341,
+ll. 14-16. A by mistake gives these lines as a continuation of
+ Sulpicia's speech.
+l. 33. A] beaten off.
+
+p. 342,
+l. 23. A] blow that part.
+
+p. 344,
+l. 12. A] affection.
+
+p. 345,
+l. 33. A] give that.
+
+p. 346,
+l. 4. A] may cease.
+
+p. 350,
+l. 18. A] a larum.
+
+p. 352,
+l. 5. A] had.
+l. 13. Second Folio _misprints_] Portual.
+
+p. 353,
+l. 29. A _omits_] will.
+
+p. 354,
+l. 25. Second Folio] comanded.
+
+p. 358,
+l. 31. A] angers.
+
+p. 359,
+l. 13. Second Folio] you.
+l. 25 and 26. A transposes these lines.
+l. 26. A _omits_] not.
+
+p. 361,
+l. 10. A] hopes. Lords againe.
+l. 38. A _omits_] and.
+
+p. 365,
+l. 27. A] it will not hold.
+l. 33. A] lost me an.
+l. 34. Second Folio _misprints_] strengthing.
+l. 39. A] a dores.
+
+p. 367,
+l. 4. A] adventure.
+1. 20. Second Folio _misprints_] unwhosom.
+
+p. 368,
+l. 38. Second Folio _misprints_] To may you.
+
+p. 369,
+l. 27. A _omits_] do.
+l. 28. A] maugre.
+
+p. 371,
+l. 9. A] sorrowes.
+l. 27. A _omits_] and.
+
+p. 372,
+l. 18. A] visitance.
+
+p. 373,
+l. 3. A] but to read.
+
+p. 375,
+l. 11. A] Gives.
+
+p. 376,
+l. 2. A] banding.
+
+p. 379,
+l. 1. A] a foote.
+l. 9. A] stick.
+l. 23. A] welcome home, Gentlemen.
+
+p. 380,
+l. 36. A] eye.
+
+p. 381,
+l. 19. Second Folio] If.
+
+p. 383,
+l. 13. A] Doore in.
+
+p. 384,
+l. 25. Second Folio _misprints_] rrue.
+
+P. 387,
+l. 13. A _adds_] For my Soune Clarke.
+
+
+END OF VOL. I.
+
+CAMBRIDGE: PRINTED BY JOHN CLAY, M.A. AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Beaumont & Fletcher's Works (1 of 10)
+- The Custom of the Country, by Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher
+Edited by Arnold Glover
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BEAUMONT & FLETCHER V1 ***
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