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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/39249-8.txt b/39249-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7acded6 --- /dev/null +++ b/39249-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5668 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Beaumont & Fletcher's Works (3 of 10): The +Loyal Subject, by Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher + +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/license + + +Title: Beaumont & Fletcher's Works (3 of 10): The Loyal Subject + +Author: Francis Beaumont + John Fletcher + +Release Date: March 24, 2012 [EBook #39249] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BEAUMONT & FLETCHER'S WORKS *** + + + + +Produced by Jonathan Ingram and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + THE + LOYAL SUBJECT, + A + TRAGI-COMEDY. + + + Persons Represented in the Play. + + _Great_ Duke _of_ Moscovia. + Archas, _the Loyal Subject_, _General of the_ Moscovites. + Theodore, _Son to_ Archas; _valorous, but impatient_. + Putskie _alias_ Briskie, _a Captain_, _Brother to_ Archas. + Alinda _alias_ Archas, _Son to_ Archas. + Burris, _an honest Lord_, _the Dukes Favourite_. + Boroskie, _a malicious seducing Councellor to the Duke_. + _Ensign to_ Archas, _a stout merry Souldier_. + _Souldiers._ + _Gentlemen._ + _Guard._ + _Servants._ + + _WOMEN._ + + Olympia, _Sister to the Duke_. + Honora, } _Daughters of_ Archas. + Viola, } + Potesca, } _Servants to_ Olympia. + Ladies, } + _Bawd_, _a Court Lady_. + + + _The Scene_ Mosco. + + + The principal Actors were, + + _Richard Burbadge._ } { _Nathanael Feild._ + _Henry Condel._ } { _John Underwood._ + _John Lowin._ } { _Nicholas Toolie._ + _Richard Sharpe._ } { _William Eglestone._ + + + + +_Actus primus. Scena prima._ + + + _Enter_ Theodor _and_ Putskie. + + _The._ Captain, your friend's prefer'd, the Princess has her, + Who, I assure my self, will use her nobly; + A pretty sweet one 'tis indeed. + + _Put._ Well bred, Sir, + I do deliver that upon my credit, + And of an honest stock. + + _The._ It seems so, Captain, + And no doubt will do well. + + _Put._ Thanks to your care, Sir; + But tell me Noble Colonel, why this habit + Of discontent is put on through the Army? + And why your valiant Father, our great General, + The hand that taught to strike, the Love that led all; + Why he, that was the Father of the War, + He that begot, and bred the Souldier, + Why he sits shaking of his Arms, like Autumn, + His Colours folded, and his Drums cas'd up, + The tongue of War for ever ty'd within us? + + _The._ It must be so: Captain you are a stranger, + But of a small time here a Souldier, + Yet that time shews ye a right good, and great one, + Else I could tell ye hours are strangely alter'd: + The young Duke has too many eyes upon him, + Too many fears 'tis thought too, and to nourish those, + Maintains too many Instruments. + + _Put._ Turn their hearts, + Or turn their heels up, Heaven: 'Tis strange it should be: + The old Duke lov'd him dearly. + + _The._ He deserv'd it; + And were he not my Father, I durst tell ye, + The memorable hazards he has run through + Deserv'd of this man too; highly deserv'd too; + Had they been less, they had been safe _Putskie_, + And sooner reach'd regard. + + _Put._ There you struck sure, Sir. + + _The._ Did I never tell thee of a vow he made + Some years before the old Duke dyed? + + _Put._ I have heard ye + Speak often of that vow; but how it was, + Or to what end, I never understood yet. + + _The._ I'le tell thee then: and then thou wilt find the reason: + The last great Muster, ('twas before ye serv'd here, + Before the last Dukes death, whose honour'd bones + Now rest in peace) this young Prince had the ordering, + (To Crown his Fathers hopes) of all the Army: + Who (to be short) put all his power to practise; + Fashion'd, and drew 'em up: but alas, so poorly, + So raggedly and loosely, so unsouldier'd, + The good Duke blush'd, and call'd unto my Father, + Who then was General: Go, _Archas_, speedily, + And chide the Boy, before the Souldiers find him, + Stand thou between his ignorance and them, + Fashion their bodies new to thy direction; + Then draw thou up, and shew the Prince his errours. + My Sire obey'd, and did so; with all duty + Inform'd the Prince, and read him all directions: + This bred distaste, distaste grew up to anger, + And anger into wild words broke out thus: + Well, _Archas_, if I live but to command here, + To be but Duke once, I shall then remember. + I shall remember truly, trust me, I shall, + And by my Fathers hand--the rest his eyes spoke. + To which my Father answer'd (somewhat mov'd too) + And with a vow he seal'd it: Royal Sir, + Since for my faith and fights, your scorn and anger + Only pursue me; if I live to that day, + That day so long expected to reward me, + By his so ever noble hand you swore by, + And by the hand of Justice, never Arms more + Shall rib this body in, nor sword hang here, Sir: + The Conflicts I will do you service then in, + Shall be repentant prayers: So they parted. + The time is come; and now ye know the wonder. + + _Put._ I find a fear too, which begins to tell me, + The Duke will have but poor and slight defences, + If his hot humour raign, and not his honour: + How stand you with him, Sir? + + _The._ A perdue Captain, + Full of my Fathers danger. + + _P[ut]._ He has rais'd a young man, + They say a slight young man, I know him not, + For what desert? + + _The._ Believe it, a brave Gentleman, + Worth the Dukes respect, a clear sweet Gentleman, + And of a noble soul: Come let's retire us, + And wait upon my Father, who within this hour + You will find an alter'd man. + + _Put._ I am sorry for't, Sir. [_Exeunt._ + + +SCENE II. + + _Enter_ Olympia, _and two Gentlewomen_. + + _Olym._ Is't not a handsome Wench? + + _2 Wom._ She is well enough, Madam: + I have seen a better face, and a straighter body, + And yet she is a pretty Gentlewoman. + + _Olym._ What thinkst thou _Petesca_? + + _Pet._ Alas, Madam, I have no skill, she has a black eye, + Which is of the least too, and the dullest water: + And when her mouth was made, for certain Madam, + Nature intended her a right good stomach. + + _Olym._ She has a good hand. + + _2 Wom._ 'Tis good enough to hold fast, + And strong enough to strangle the neck of a Lute. + + _Olym._ What think ye of her colour? + + _Pet._ If it be her own + 'Tis good black blood: right weather-proof + I warrant it. + + _2 Wom._ What a strange pace she has got! + + _Olym._ That's but her breeding. + + _Pet._ And what a manly body! me thinks she looks + As though she would pitch the Bar, or go to Buffets. + + _2 Wom._ Yet her behaviour's utterly against it, + For me thinks she is too bashful. + + _Olym._ Is that hurtful? + + _2 Wom._ Even equal to too bold: either of 'em, Madam, + May do her injury when time shall serve her. + + _Olym._ You discourse learnedly, call in the wench. [_Ex. Gent._ + What envious fools are you? Is the rule general, + That Women can speak handsomly of none, + But those they are bred withal? + + _Pet._ Scarce well of those, Madam, + If they believe they may out-shine 'em any way: + Our natures are like Oyl, compound us with any thing, + Yet still we strive to swim o' th' top: + Suppose there were here now, + Now in this Court of _Mosco_, a stranger Princess, + Of bloud and beauty equal to your excellence, + As many eyes and services stuck on her; + What would you think? + + _Olym._ I would think she might deserve it. + + _Pet._ Your Grace shall give me leave not to believe ye; + I know you are a Woman, and so humour'd: + I'le tell ye Madam, I could then get more Gowns on ye, + More Caps and Feathers, more Scarfs, and more Silk-stockings + With rocking you asleep with nightly railings + Upon that Woman, than if I had nine lives + I could wear out: by this hand ye'would scratch her eyes out. + + _Olym._ Thou art deceiv'd fool; + Now let your own eye mock ye. + + _Enter Gentlewoman and_ Alinda. + + Come hither Girl: hang me and she be not a handsom one. + + _Pet._ I fear it will prove indeed so. + + _Olym._ Did you ever serve yet + In any place of worth? + + _Alin._ No, Royal Lady. + + _Pet._ Hold up your head; fie. + + _Olym._ Let her alone, stand from her. + + _Alin._ It shall be now, + Of all the blessings my poor youth has pray'd for, + The greatest and the happiest to serve you; + And might my promise carry but that credit + To be believ'd, because I am yet a stranger, + Excellent Lady, when I fall from duty, + From all the service that my life can lend me, + May everlasting misery then find me. + + _Olym._ What think ye now? I do believe, and thank ye; + And sure I shall not be so far forgetful, + To see that honest faith die unrewarded: + What must I call your name? + + _Alin._ _Alinda_, Madam. + + _Olym._ Can ye sing? + + _Alin._ A little, when my grief will give me leave, Lady. + + _Olym._ What grief canst thou have Wench? + Thou art not in love? + + _Alin._ If I be Madam, 'tis only with your goodness; + For yet I never saw that man I sighed for. + + _Olym._ Of what years are you? + + _Alin._ My Mother oft has told me, + That very day and hour this land was blest + With your most happy birth, I first saluted + This worlds fair light: Nature was then so busie, + And all the Graces to adorn your goodness, + I stole into the world poor and neglected. + + _Olym._ Something there was, when I first look'd upon thee, + Made me both like and love thee: now I know it; + And you shall find that knowledge shall not hurt you: + I hope ye are a Maid? + + _Alin._ I hope so too, Madam; + I am sure for any man: and were I otherwise, + Of all the services my hopes could point at, + I durst not touch at yours. + + _Flourish. Enter Duke_, Burris, _and Gent._ + + _Pet._ The great Duke, Madam. + + _Duk._ Good morrow, Sister. + + _Olym._ A good day to your highness. + + _Duk._ I am come to pray you use no more perswasions + For this old stubborn man: nay to command ye: + His sail is swell'd too full: he is grown too insolent, + Too self-affected, proud: those poor slight services + He has done my Father, and my self, has blown him + To such a pitch, he flyes to stoop our favours. + + _Olym._ I am sorry Sir: I ever thought those services + Both great and noble. + + _Bur._ However, may it please ye + But to consider 'em a true hearts Servants, + Done out of faith to you, and not self-fame: + Do but consider royal Sir, the dangers; + When you have slept secure, the mid-night tempests, + That as he marcht sung through his aged locks; + When you have fed at full, the wants and famins; + The fires of Heaven, when you have found all temperate, + Death with his thousand doors-- + + _Duk._ I have consider'd; + No more: and that I will have, shall be. + + _Olym._ For the best, + I hope all still. + + _Duk._ What handsom wench is that there? + + _Olym._ My Servant, Sir. + + _Duk._ Prethee observe her _Burris_, + Is she not wondrous handsom? speak thy freedom. + + _Bur._ She appears no less to me Sir. + + _Duk._ Of whence is she? + + _Ol._ Her Father I am told is a good Gentleman, + But far off dwelling: her desire to serve me + Brought her to th' Court, and here her friends have left her. + + _Du._ She may find better friends: + Ye are welcom fair one, + I have not seen a sweeter: By your Ladies leave: + Nay stand up sweet, we'll have no superstition: + You have got a Servant; you may use him kindly, + And he may honour ye: [_Ex._ Duke _and_ Burris. + Good morrow Sister. + + _Ol._ Good morrow to your Grace. How the wench blushes! + How like an A[n]gel now she looks! + + _1 Wom._ At first jump + Jump into the Dukes arms? we must look to you, + Indeed we must, the next jump we are journeymen. + + _Pet._ I see the ruine of our hopes already, + Would she were at home again, milking her Fathers Cows. + + _1 Wom._ I fear she'l milk all the great Courtiers first. + + _Olym._ This has not made ye proud? + + _Al._ No certain, Madam. + + _Olym._ It was the Duke that kist ye. + + _Al._ 'Twas your Brother, + And therefore nothing can be meant but honour. + + _Ol._ But say he love ye? + + _Al._ That he may with safety: + A Princes love extends to all his subjects. + + _Ol._ But say in more particular? + + _Al._ Pray fear not: + For vertues sake deliver me from doubts, Lady: + 'Tis not the name of King, nor all his promises, + His glories, and his greatness stuck about me, + Can make me prove a Traitor to your service: + You are my Mistris, and my noble Master, + Your vertues my ambition, and your favour + The end of all my love, and all my fortune: + And when I fail in that faith-- + + _Ol._ I believe thee, + Come wipe your eyes; I do: take you example-- + + _Pets._ I would her eyes were out. + + _1 Wom._ If the wind stand in this door, + We shall have but cold custome: some trick or other, + And speedily. + + _Pet._ Let me alone to think on't. + + _Ol._ Come, be you near me still. + + _Al._ With all my duty. [_Exeunt._ + + +SCENA III. + + _Enter_ Archas, Theodor, Putskie, _Ancient, and Souldiers, + carrying his armour piece-meale, his Colours wound up, + and his Drums in Cases_. + + _Theod._ This is the heaviest march we e're trod Captain. + + _Puts._ This was not wont to be: these honour'd pieces + The fierie god of war himself would smile at, + Buckl'd upon that body, were not wont thus, + Like Reliques to be offer'd to long rust, + And heavy-ey'd oblivion brood upon 'em. + + _Arch._ There set 'em down: and glorious war farewel; + Thou child of honour and ambitious thoughts, + Begot in bloud, and nurs'd with Kingdomes ruines; + Thou golden danger, courted by thy followers + Through fires and famins, for one title from thee-- + Prodigal man-kind spending all his fortunes; + A long farewel I give thee: Noble Arms, + You ribs for mighty minds, you Iron houses, + Made to defie the thunder-claps of Fortune, + Rust and consuming time must now dwell with ye: + And thou good Sword that knewst the way to conquest, + Upon whose fatal edge despair and death dwelt, + That when I shook thee thus, fore-shew'd destruction, + Sleep now from bloud, and grace my Monument: + Farewel my Eagle; when thou flew'st, whole Armies + Have stoopt below thee: At Passage I have seen thee, + Ruffle the _Tartars_, as they fled thy furie; + And bang 'em up together, as a Tassel, + Upon the streach, a flock of fearfull Pigeons. + I yet remember when the _Volga_ curl'd, + The aged _Volga_, when he heav'd his head up, + And rais'd his waters high, to see the ruins; + The ruines our Swords made, the bloudy ruins, + Then flew this Bird of honour bravely, Gentlemen; + But these must be forgotten: so must these too, + And all that tend to Arms, by me for ever. + Take 'em you holy men; my Vow take with 'em, + Never to wear 'em more: Trophies I give 'em, + And sacred Rites of war to adorn the Temple: + There let 'em hang, to tell the world their master + Is now Devotions Souldier, fit for prayer. + Why do ye hang your heads? why look you sad friends? + I am not dying yet. + + _Theod._ Ye are indeed to us Sir. + + _Puts._ Dead to our fortunes, General. + + _Arch._ You'l find a better, + A greater, and a stronger man to lead ye, + And to a stronger fortune: I am old, friends, + Time, and the wars together make me stoop, Gentle[men], + Stoop to my grave: my mind unfurnish'd too, + Emptie and weak as I am: my poor body, + Able for nothing now but contemplation, + And that will be a task too to a Souldier: + Yet had they but encourag'd me, or thought well + Of what I have done, I think I should have ventur'd + For one knock more, I should have made a shift yet + To have broke one staff more handsomly, and have died + Like a good fellow, and an honest Souldier, + In the head of ye all, with my Sword in my hand, + And so have made an end of all with credit. + + _Theod._ Well, there will come an hour, when all these injuries, + These secure slights-- + + _Ar._ Ha! no more of that sirrah, + Not one word more of that I charge ye. + + _Theod._ I must speak Sir. + And may that tongue forget to sound your service, + That's dumb to your abuses. + + _Ar._ Understand fool, + That voluntary I sit down. + + _Theod._ You are forced, Sir, + Forced for your safety: I too well remember + The time and cause, and I may live to curse 'em: + You made this Vow, and whose unnobleness, + Indeed forgetfulness of good-- + + _Ar._ No more, + As thou art mine no more. + + _The._ Whose doubts and envies-- + But the Devil will have his due. + + _Puts._ Good gentle Colonel. + + _The._ And though disgraces, and contempt of Honour + Reign now, the Wheel must turn again. + + _Ar._ Peace Sirrah, + Your tongue's too saucy: do you stare upon me? + Down with that heart, down suddenly, down with it, + Down with that disobedience; tye that tongue up. + + _Theod._ Tongue? + + _Ar._ Do not provoke me to forget my Vow, Sirrah. + And draw that fatal Sword again in anger. + + _Puts._ For Heavens sake, Colonel. + + _Ar._ Do not let me doubt + Whose Son thou art, because thou canst not suffer: + Do not play with mine anger; if thou dost, + By all the Loyalty my heart holds-- + + _Theod._ I have done, Sir, + Pray pardon me. + + _Ar._ I pray be worthy of it: + Beshrew your heart, you have vext me. + + _The._ I am sorry, Sir. + + _Ar._ Go to, no more of this: be true and honest, + I know ye are man enough, mould it to just ends, + And let not my disgraces, then I am miserable, + When I have nothing left me but thy angers. + + _Flourish. Enter Duke_, Burris, Boroskie, _Attend. and Gent_. + + _Puts._ And't please ye, Sir, the Duke. + + _Duk._ Now, what's all this? + The meaning of this ceremonious Emblem? + + _Ar._ Your Grace should first remember-- + + _Boros._ There's his Nature. + + _Duk._ I do, and shall remember still that injury, + That at the Muster, where it pleas'd your Greatness + To laugh at my poor Souldiership, to scorn it; + And more to make me seem ridiculous, + Took from my hands my charge. + + _Bur._ O think not so, Sir. + + _Duk._ And in my Fathers sight. + + _Ar._ Heaven be my witness, + I did no more, (and that with modesty, + With Love and Faith to you) than was my warrant, + And from your Father seal'd: nor durst that rudeness, + And impudence of scorn fall from my 'haviour, + I ever yet knew duty. + + _Du._ We shall teach ye, + I well remember too, upon some words I told ye, + Then at that time, some angry words ye answer'd, + If ever I were Duke, you were no Souldier. + You have kept your word, and so it shall be to you, + From henceforth I dismiss you; take your ease, Sir. + + _Ar._ I humbly thank your Grace; this wasted Body, + Beaten and bruis'd with Arms, dry'd up with troubles, + Is good for nothing else but quiet, now Sir, + And holy Prayers; in which, when I forget + To thank Heaven for all your bounteous favours, + May that be deaf, and my Petitions perish. + + _Boros._ What a smooth humble Cloak he has cas'd his pride in! + And how he has pull'd his Claws in! there's no trusting-- + + _Bur._ Speak for the best. + + _Bor._ Believe I shall do ever. + + _Du._ To make ye understand, we feel not yet + Such dearth of Valour, and Experience, + Such a declining Age of doing Spirits, + That all should be confin'd within your excellence, + And you, or none be honour'd, take _Boroskie_, + The place he has commanded, lead the Souldier; + A little time will bring thee to his honour, + Which has been nothing but the Worlds opinion, + The Souldiers fondness, and a little fortune, + Which I believe his Sword had the least share in. + + _Theod._ O that I durst but answer now. + + _Puts._ Good Colonel. + + _Theod._ My heart will break else: Royal Sir, I know not + What you esteem mens lives, whose hourly labours, + And loss of Blood, consumptions in your service, + Whose Bodies are acquainted with more miseries, + And all to keep you safe, than Dogs or Slaves are. + His Sword the least share gain'd? + + _Du._ You will not fight with me? + + _Theod._ No Sir, I dare not, + You are my Prince, but I dare speak to ye, + And dare speak truth, which none of their ambitions + That be informers to you, dare once think of; + Yet truth will now but anger ye; I am sorry for't, + And so I take my leave. [_Exit._ + + _Du._ Ev'n when you please, Sir. + + _Ar._ Sirrah, see me no more. + + _Du._ And so may you too: + You have a house i'th' Country, keep you there, Sir, + And when you have rul'd your self, teach your Son manners, + For this time I forgive him. + + _Ar._ Heaven forgive all; + And to your Grace a happy and long Rule here. + And you Lord General, may your fights be prosperous. + In all your Course may Fame and Fortune court you. + Fight for your Country, and your Princes safety; + Boldly, and bravely face your Enemy, + And when you strike, strike with that killing Vertue, + As if a general Plague had seiz'd before ye; + Danger, and doubt, and labour cast behind ye; + And then come home an old and noble Story. + + _Bur._ A little comfort, Sir. + + _Du._ As little as may be: + Farewel, you know your limit. [_Ex. Duke_, &c. + + _Bur._ Alas, brave Gentleman. + + _Ar._ I do, and will observe it suddenly, + My Grave; I, that's my limit; 'tis no new thing, + Nor that can make me start, or tremble at it, + To buckle with that old grim Souldier now: + I have seen him in his sowrest shapes, and dreadfull'st; + I, and I thank my honesty, have stood him: + That audit's cast; farewel my honest Souldiers, + Give me your hands; farewel, farewel good _Ancient_, + A stout man, and a true, thou art come in sorrow. + Blessings upon your Swords, may they ne'r fail ye; + You do but change a man; your fortune's constant; + That by your ancient Valours is ty'd fast still; + Be valiant still, and good: and when ye fight next, + When flame and fury make but one face of horrour, + When the great rest of all your honour's up, + When you would think a Spell to shake the enemy, + Remember me, my Prayers shall be with ye: + So once again farewel. + + _Puts._ Let's wait upon ye. + + _Ar._ No, no, it must not be; I have now left me + A single Fortune to my self, no more, + Which needs no train, nor complement; good Captain, + You are an honest and a sober Gentleman, + And one I think has lov'd me. + + _Puts_. I am sure on't. + + _Ar_. Look to my Boy, he's grown too headstrong for me. + And if they think him fit to carry Arms still, + His life is theirs; I have a house i'th' Country, + And when your better hours will give you liberty, + See me: you shall be welcome. Fortune to ye. [_Exit._ + + _Anc._ I'll cry no more, that will do him no good, + And 'twill but make me dry, and I have no money: + I'll fight no more, and that will do them harm; + And if I can do that, I care not for money: + I could have curst reasonable well, and I have had the luck too + To have 'em hit sometimes. Whosoever thou art, + That like a Devil didst possess the Duke + With these malicious thoughts; mark what I say to thee, + A Plague upon thee, that's but the Preamble. + + _Sold._ O take the Pox too. + + _Anc._ They'll cure one another; + I must have none but kills, and those kill stinking: + Or look ye, let the single Pox possess them, + Or Pox upon Pox. + + _Puts._ That's but ill i'th' arms, Sir. + + _Anc._ 'Tis worse i'th' Legs, I would not wish it else: + And may those grow to scabs as big as Mole-hills, + And twice a day, the Devil with a Curry-Comb + Scratch 'em, and scrub 'em: I warrant him he has 'em. + + _Sold._ May he be ever lowzie. + + _Anc._ That's a pleasure, + The Beggar's Lechery; sometimes the Souldiers: + May he be ever lazie, stink where he stands, + And Maggots breed in's Brains. + + _2 Sold._ I, marry Sir, + May he fall mad in love with his Grand-mother, + And kissing her, may her teeth drop into his mouth, + And one fall cross his throat, then let him gargle. + + _Enter a Post._ + + _Puts._ Now, what's the matter? + + _Post._ Where's the Duke, pray, Gentlemen? + + _Puts._ Keep on your way, you cannot miss. + + _Post._ I thank ye. [_Exit._ + + _Anc._ If he be married, may he dream he's cuckol'd, + And when he wakes believe, and swear he saw it, + Sue a Divorce, and after find her honest: + Then in a pleasant Pigstye, with his own garters, + And a fine running knot, ride to the Devil. + + _Puts._ If these would do-- + + _Anc._ I'll never trust my mind more, + If all these fail. + + _1 Sold._ What shall we do now, Captain? + For by this honest hand I'll be torn in pieces, + Unless my old General go, or some that love him, + And love us equal too, before I fight more: + I can make a Shooe yet, and draw it on too, + If I like the Leg well. + + _Anc._ Fight? 'tis likely: + No, there will be the sport Boys, when there's need on's. + They think the other Crown will do, will carry us, + And the brave golden Coat of Captain _Cankro + Boroskie_. What a noise his very name carries! + 'Tis Gun enough to fright a Nation, + He needs no Souldiers; if he do, for my part, + I promise ye he's like to seek 'em; so I think you think too, + And all the Army; No, honest, brave old _Archas_, + We cannot so soon leave thy memory, + So soon forget thy goodness: he that does, + The scandal and the scumm of Arms be counted. + + _Puts._ You much rejoice me now you have hit my meaning, + I durst not press ye, till I found your spirits: + Continue thus. + + _Anc._ I'll go and tell the Duke on't. + + _Enter 2 Post._ + + _Puts._ No, no, he'll find it soon enough, and fear it, + When once occasion comes: Another Packet! + From whence, Friend, come you? + + _2 Post._ From the Borders, Sir. + + _Puts._ What news, Sir, I beseech you? + + _2 Post._ Fire and Sword, Gentlemen; + The _Tartar_'s up, and with a mighty force, + Comes forward, like a tempest, all before him + Burning and killing. + + _Anc._ Brave Boys, brave news, Boys. + + _2 Post._ Either we must have present help-- + + _Anc._ Still braver. + + _2 Post._ Where lies the Duke? + + _Sold._ He's there. + + _2 Post._ 'Save ye, Gentlemen. [_Exit._ + + _Anc._ We are safe enough, I warrant thee: + Now the time's come. + + _Puts._ I, now 'tis come indeed, and now stand firm, Boys, + And let 'em burn on merrily. + + _Anc._ This City would make a fine marvellous Bone-fire: + 'Tis old dry timber, and such Wood has no fellow. + + _2 Sold._ Here will be trim piping anon and whining, + Like so many Pigs in a storm, + When they hear the news once. + + _Enter_ Boroskie, _and Servant_. + + _Puts._ Here's one has heard it already; + Room for the General. + + _Boros._ Say I am faln exceeding sick o'th' sudden, + And am not like to live. + + _Puts._ If ye go on, Sir, + For they will kill ye certainly; they look for ye. + + _Anc._ I see your Lordship's bound, take a suppository, + 'Tis I, Sir; a poor cast Flag of yours. The foolish _Tartars_ + They burn and kill, and't like your honour, kill us, + Kill with Guns, with Guns my Lord, with Guns, Sir. + What says your Lordship to a chick in sorrel sops? + + _Puts._ Go, go thy ways old true-penny; + Thou hast but one fault: thou art ev'n too valiant. + Come, to'th' Army Gentlemen, and let's make them acquainted. + + _Sold._ Away, we are for ye. [_Exeunt._ + + +SCENE IV. + + _Enter_ Alinda, _and two Gentlewomen_. + + _Alin._ Why, whither run ye Fools; will ye leave my Lady? + + _Petes._ The _Tartar_ comes, the _Tartar_ comes. + + _Alin._ Why, let him, + I thought you had fear'd no men: upon my conscience + You have try'd their strengths already; stay for shame. + + _Pet._ Shift for thy self, _Alinda_. [_Exit._ + + _Alin._ Beauty bless ye: + Into what Grooms Feather-Bed will you creep now? + And there mistake the enemy; sweet youths ye are, + And of a constant courage; are you afraid of foining? + + _Enter_ Olympia. + + _Olym._ O my good Wench, what shall become of us? + The Posts come hourly in, and bring new danger; + The enemy is past the _Volga_, and bears hither + With all the blood and cruelty he carries, + My Brother now will find his fault. + + _Alin._ I doubt me, + Somewhat too late, Madam. But pray fear not, + All will be well, I hope. Sweet Madam, shake not. + + _Olym._ How cam'st thou by this Spirit? our Sex trembles. + + _Alin._ I am not unacquainted with these dangers; + And you shall know my truth; for ere you perish, + A hundred Swords shall pass through me: 'tis but dying, + And Madam we must do it: the manner's all: + You have a Princely Birth, take Princely thoughts to you, + And take my counsel too; go presently, + With all the haste ye have, (I will attend ye) + With all the possible speed, to old Lord _Archas_, + He honours ye; with all your art perswade him, + ('Twill be a dismal time else) woo him hither, + But hither Madam, make him see the danger; + For your new General looks like an Ass; + There's nothing in his face but loss. + + _Olym._ I'll do it. + And thank thee, sweet _Alinda_: O my Jewel, + How much I'm bound to love thee! by this hand, Wench, + If thou wert a man-- + + _Alin._ I would I were to fight for you. + But haste dear Madam. + + _Olym._ I need no Spurs _Alinda_. + + +SCENE V. + + _Enter Duke, 2 Posts, Attendants, Gentlemen._ + + _Du._ The Lord General sick now? is this a time + For men to creep into their Beds? What's become, Post, + Of my Lieutenant? + + _Post._ Beaten, and't please your Grace, + And all his Forces sparkled. + + _Enter a Gentleman._ + + _Du._ That's but cold news: + How now, what good news? are the Souldiers ready? + + _Ge._ Yes Sir, but fight they will not, nor stir from that place + They stand in now, unless they have Lord _Archas_ + To lead 'em out; they rail upon this General, + And sing Songs of him, scurvy Songs, to worse tunes: + And much they spare not you, Sir: here they swear + They'll stand and see the City burnt, and dance about it, + Unless Lord _Archas_ come before they fight for't: + It must be so, Sir. + + _Du._ I could wish it so too; + And to that end I have sent Lord _Burris_ to him; + But all I fear will fail; we must dye, Gentlemen, + And one stroke we'll have for't. + + _Enter_ Burris. + + What bring'st thou, _Burris_? + + _Bur._ That I am loth to tell; he will not come, Sir; + I found him at his Prayers, there he tells me, + The Enemy shall take him, fit for Heaven: + I urg'd to him all our dangers, his own worths, + The Countries ruine; nay I kneel'd and pray'd him; + He shook his head, let fall a tear, and pointed + Thus with his finger to the Ground; a Grave + I think he meant; and this was all he answer'd. + Your Grace was much to blame: + Where's the new General? + + _Du._ He is sick, poor man. + + _Bur._ He's a poor man indeed, Sir: + Your Grace must needs go to the Souldier. + + _Du._ They have sent me word + They will not stir, they rail at me, + And all the spight they have-- [_Shout within._ + What shout is that there? + Is the Enemy come so near? + + _Enter_ Archas, Olympia, _and_ Alinda. + + _Olym._ I have brought him, Sir, + At length I have woo'd him thus far. + + _Du._ Happy Sister, + O blessed Woman! + + _Olym._ Use him nobly, Brother; + You never had more need: And Gentlemen, + All the best powers ye have, to tongues turn presently, + To winning and perswading tongues: all my art, + Only to bring him hither, I have utter'd; + Let it be yours to arm him; And good my Lord, + Though I exceed the limit you allow'd me, + Which was the happiness to bring ye hither, + And not to urge ye farther; yet, see your Country, + Out of your own sweet Spirit now behold it: + Turn round, and look upon the miseries, + On every side the fears; O see the dangers; + We find 'em soonest, therefore hear me first, Sir. + + _Du._ Next hear your Prince: + You have said you lov'd him, _Archas_, + And thought your life too little for his service; + Think not your vow too great now, now the time is, + And now you are brought to th' test, touch right now Souldier, + Now shew the manly pureness of thy mettle; + Now if thou beest that valued man, that vertue, + That great obedience teaching all, now stand it. + What I have said forget, my youth was hasty, + And what you said your self forgive, you were angry. + If men could live without their faults, they were gods, _Archas_. + He weeps, and holds his hands up: to him, _Burris_. + + _Bur._ You have shew'd the Prince his faults; + And like a good Surgeon you have laid + That to 'em makes 'em smart; he feels it, + Let 'em not fester now, Sir; your own honour, + The bounty of that mind, and your allegiance, + 'Gainst which I take it, Heaven gives no Command, Sir, + Nor seals no Vow, can better teach ye now + What ye have to do, than I, or this necessity; + Only this little's left; would ye do nobly, + And in the Eye of Honour truly triumph? + Conquer that mind first, and then men are nothing. + + _Alin._ Last, a poor Virgin kneels; for loves sake General, + If ever you have lov'd; for her sake, Sir, + For your own honesty, which is a Virgin, + Look up, and pity us, be bold and fortunate, + You are a Knight, a good and noble Souldier, + And when your Spurs were given ye, your Sword buckl'd, + Then were you sworn for Vertues Cause, for Beauties, + For Chastity to strike; strike now, they suffer; + Now draw your Sword, or else you are recreant, + Only a Knight i'th' Heels, i'th' Heart a Coward; + Your first Vow honour made, your last but anger. + + _Ar._ How like my vertuous Wife this thing looks, speaks too? + So would she chide my dulness: fair one, I thank ye. + My gracious Sir, your pardon, next your hand: + Madam, your favour, and your prayers: Gentlemen, + Your wishes, and your loves: and pretty sweet one, + A favour for your Souldier. + + _Olymp._ Give him this, Wench. + + _Alin._ Thus do I tye on Victory. + + _Arc._ My Armour, + My Horse, my Sword, my tough Staff, and my Fortune, + And _Olin_ now I come to shake thy glory. + + _Du._ Go, brave and prosperous, our loves go with thee. + + _Olymp._ Full of thy vertue, and our Prayers attend thee. + + _Bur. &c._ Loaden with Victory, and we to honour thee. + + _Alin._ Come home the Son of Honour, + And I'll serve ye. [_Exeunt._ + + + + +_Actus Secundus. Scena Prima._ + + + _Enter Duke_, Burris, _and two Gentlemen_. + + _Duke._ No news of _Archas_ yet? + + _Bur._ But now, and't please ye, + A Post came in, Letters he brought none with him, + But this deliver'd: He saw the Armies join, + The game of Blood begun, and by our General, + Who never was acquainted but with Conquest, + So bravely fought, he saw the _Tartars_ shaken, + And there he said he left 'em. + + _Du._ Where's _Boroskie_? + + _1 Gent._ He's up again, and't please ye. + + _Bur._ Sir, methinks + This News should make ye lightsome, bring joy to ye, + It strikes our hearts with general Comfort. [_Exit Duke._ + Gone? What should this mean, so suddenly? + He's well? + + _2 Gent._ We see no other. + + _1 Gent._ Would the rest were well too, + That put these starts into him. + + _Bur._ I'll go after him. + + _2 Gent._ 'Twill not be fit, Sir: h'as some secret in him + He would not be disturb'd in: know you any thing + Has crost him since the General went? + + _Bur._ Not any: + If there had been, I am sure I should have found it: + Only I have heard him oft complain for money: + Money he says he wants. + + _1 Gent._ It may be that then. + + _Bur._ To him that has so ma[n]y wayes to raise it, + And those so honest, it cannot be. + + _Enter Duke and_ Boroskie. + + _1 Gent._ He comes back, + And Lord _Boroskie_ with him. + + _Bur._ There the game goes, + I fear some new thing hatching. + + _Duke._ Come hither _Burris_. + Go see my Sister, and commend me to her, + And to my little Mistriss give this Token; + Tell her I'le see her shortly. + + _Bur._ Yes, I shall, Sir. [_Ex._ Bur. _and Gent_. + + _Duke._ Wait you without: I would yet try him further. + + _Bor._ 'Twill not be much amiss: has your Grace heard yet + Of what he has done i'th' Field? + + _Duke._ A Post but now + Came in, who saw 'em joyn, and has delivered, + The Enemy gave ground before he parted. + + _Bor._ 'Tis well. + + _Duke._ Come, speak thy mind man: 'tis not for fighting, + A noise of War, I keep thee in my bosom; + Thy ends are nearer to me; from my Childhood + Thou brought'st me up: and like another nature, + Made good all my necessities: speak boldly. + + _Bor._ Sir, what I utter, will be thought but envy + Though I intend, high heaven knows, but your honour, + When vain and empty people shall proclaim me-- + Good Sir excuse me. + + _Duke._ Do you fear me for your Enemy? + Speak on your duty. + + _Bor._ Then I must, and dare, Sir: + When he comes home, take heed the Court receive him not, + Take heed he meet not with their loves and praises, + That Glass will shew him ten times greater, Sir, + (And make him strive to make good that proportion,) + Than ere his fortune bred him, he is honourable, + At least I strive to understand him so, + And of a nature, if not this way poyson'd, + Perfect enough, easie, and sweet, but those are soon seduc'd, Sir; + He's a great man, and what that Pill may work, + Prepar'd by general voices of the people, + Is the end of all my Counsel, only this, Sir, + Let him retire a while, there's more hangs by it + Than you know yet: there if he stand a while well, + But till the Souldier cool, whom, for their service + You must pay now most liberally, most freely, + And showre your self into 'em; 'tis the bounty + They follow with their loves, and not the bravery. + + _Enter two Gent._ + + _Duke._ But where's the Money? how now? + + _2 Gent._ Sir, the Colonel, + Son to the Lord _Archas_, with most happy news + Of the _Tartars_ overthrow, without here + Attends your Graces pleasure. + + _Bor._ Be not seen, Sir, + He's a bold fellow, let me stand his Thunders, + To th' Court he must not come: no blessing here, Sir, + No face of favour, if you love your honour. + + _Enter_ Theodore. + + _Duke._ Do what you think is meetest; I'le retire, Sir. [_Ex._ + + _Bor._ Conduct him in, Sir--welcome noble Colonel. + + _The._ That's much from your Lordship: pray where's the Duke? + + _Bor._ We hear you have beat the _Tartar_. + + _The._ Is he busie, Sir? + + _Bor._ Have ye taken _Olin_ yet? + + _The._ I would fain speak with him. + + _Bor._ How many men have ye lost? + + _The._ Do's he lye this way? + + _Bor._ I am sure you fought it bravely. + + _The._ I must see him. + + _Bor._ You cannot yet, ye must not, what's your Commission? + + _The._ No Gentleman o'th' Chamber here? + + _Bor._ Why, pray ye, Sir? + Am not I fit to entertain your business? + + _The._ I think you are not, Sir; I am sure ye shall not. + I bring no tales, nor flatteries: in my tongue, Sir, + I carry no fork'd stings. + + _Bor._ You keep your bluntness. + + _The._ You are deceiv'd: it keeps me: I had felt else + Some of your plagues ere this: but good Sir trifle not, + I have business to the Duke. + + _Bor._ He's not well, Sir, + And cannot now be spoke withal. + + _The._ Not well, Sir? + How would he ha' been, if we had lost? not well, Sir? + I bring him news to make him well: his enemy + That would have burnt his City here, and your House too, + Your brave gilt house, my Lord, your honours hangings, + Where all your Ancestors, and all their Battels, + Their silk and golden Battels are decipher'd: + That would not only have abus'd your buildings, + Your goodly buildings, Sir, and have drunk dry your butteries, + Purloin'd your Lordships Plate, the Duke bestow'd on you, + For turning handsomly o'th' toe, and trim'd your Virgins, + Trim'd 'em of a new cut, and't like your Lordship, + 'Tis ten to one, your Wife too, and the curse is + You had had no remedy against these Rascals, + No Law, and't like your Honour; would have kill'd you too + And roasted ye, and eaten ye, ere this time: + Notable Knaves my Lord, unruly Rascals: + These youths have we ty'd up, put muzzels on 'em, + And par'd their Nails, that honest civil Gentlemen, + And such most noble persons as your self is, + May live in peace, and rule the land with a twine thread. + These news I bring. + + _Bor._ And were they thus deliver'd ye? + + _The._ My Lord, I am no pen-man, nor no Orator, + My tongue was never Oyl'd with Here and't like ye, + There I beseech ye, weigh, I am a Souldier, + And truth I covet only, no fine terms, Sir; + I come not to stand treating here; my business + Is with the Duke, and of such general blessing-- + + _Bor._ You have overthrown the enemy, we know it, + And we rejoyce in't; ye have done like honest Subjects, + You have done handsomely and well. + + _Theo._ But well, Sir? + But handsomely and well? what are we juglers? + I'le do all that in cutting up a Capon. + But handsomely and well? does your Lordship take us + For the Dukes Tumblers? we have done bravely, Sir, + Ventur'd our lives like men. + + _Bor._ Then bravely be it. + + _Theo._ And for as brave rewards we look, and graces, + We have sweat and bled for't, Sir. + + _Bor._ And ye may have it, + If you will stay the giving. Men that thank themselves first + For any good they do, take off the lustre, + And blot the benefit. + + _Theo._ Are these the welcomes, + The Bells that ring out our rewards? pray heartily, + Early and late, there may be no more Enemies: + Do my good Lord, pray seriously, and sigh too, + For if there be-- + + _Bor._ They must be met, and fought with. + + _Theo._ By whom? by you? they must be met and flatter'd. + Why, what a Devil ail'd ye to do these things? + With what assurance dare ye mock men thus? + You have but single lives, and those I take it + A Sword may find too: why do ye dam the Duke up? + And choak that course of love, that like a River + Should fill our empty veins again with comforts? + But if ye use these knick knacks, + This fast and loose, with faithful men and honest, + You'l be the first will find it. + + _Enter_ Archas, _Souldiers_, Putskey, _Ancient, and others_. + + _Boros._ You are too untemperate. + + _Theo._ Better be so, and thief too, than unthankful: + Pray use this old man so, and then we are paid all. + The Duke thanks ye for your service, and the Court thanks ye, + And wonderful desirous they are to see ye; + Pray Heaven we have room enough to march for May-games, + Pageants, and Bone-fires for your welcome home, Sir. + Here your most noble friend the Lord _Boroskie_, + A Gentleman too tender of your credit, + And ever in the Dukes ear, for your good, Sir, + Crazie and sickly, yet to be your servant, + Has leapt into the open air to meet ye. + + _Bor._ The best is, your words wound not, you are welcome home, Sir; + Heartily welcome home, and for your service, + The noble overthrow you gave the Enemy, + The Duke salutes ye too with all his thanks, Sir. + + _Anc._ Sure they will now regard us. + + _Puts._ There's a reason: + But by the changing of the Colonels countenance, + The rolling of his eyes like angry Billows; + I fear the wind's not down yet, _Ancient_. + + _Anc._ Is the Duke well, Sir? + + _Boros._ Not much unhealthy, + Only a little grudging of an Ague, + Which cannot last: he has heard, which makes him fearful, + And loth as yet to give your worth due welcome, + The sickness hath been somewhat hot i'th' Army, + Which happily may prove more doubt than danger, + And more his fear than fate; yet howsoever, + An honest care-- + + _Arch._ Ye say right, and it shall be; + For though upon my life 'tis but a rumor, + A meer opinion, without faith or fear in't; + For Sir, I thank Heaven, we never stood more healthy, + Never more high and lusty; yet to satisfie, + We cannot be too curious, or too careful + Of what concerns his state, we'll draw away, Sir, + And lodge at further distance, and less danger. + + _Boros._ It will be well. + + _Anc._ It will be very scurvy: + I smell it out, it stinks abominably, + Stir it no more. + + _Boros._ The Duke, Sir, would have you too, + For a short day or two, retire to your own house, + Whither himself will come to visit ye, + And give ye thanks. + + _Arch._ I shall attend his pleasure. + + _Anc._ A trick, a lousie trick: so ho, a trick Boys. + + _Arch._ How now, what's that? + + _Anc._ I thought I had found a Hare, Sir, + But 'tis a Fox, an old Fox, shall we hunt him? + + _Arch._ No more such words. + + _Boros._ The Souldier's grown too sawcy, + You must tie him straiter up. + + _Arch._ I do my best, Sir; + But men of free-born minds sometimes will flie out. + + _Anc._ May not we see the Duke? + + _Boros._ Not at this time, Gentlemen, + Your General knows the cause. + + _Anc._ We have no Plague, Sir, + Unless it be in our pay, nor no Pox neither; + Or if we had, I hope that good old Courtier + Will not deny us place there. + + _Puts._ Certain my Lord, + Considering what we are, and what we have done; + If not, what need ye may have, 'twould be better, + A great deal nobler, and taste honester + To use us with more sweetness; men that dig + And lash away their lives at the Carts tail, + Double our comforts; meat, and their Masters thanks too, + When they work well, they have; Men of our quality, + When they do well, and venture for't with valour, + Fight hard, lye hard, feed hard, when they come home, Sir, + And know these are deserving things, things worthy, + Can you then blame 'em if their minds a little + Be stir'd with glory? 'tis a pride becomes 'em, + A little season'd with ambition, + To be respected, reckon'd well, and honour'd + For what they have done: when to come home thus poorly, + And met with such unjointed joy, so looked on, + As if we had done no more but drest a Horse well; + So entertain'd, as if, I thank ye Gentlemen, + Take that to drink, had pow'r to please a Souldier? + Where be the shouts, the Bells rung out, the people? + The Prince himself? + + _Arch._ Peace: I perceive your eye, Sir, + Is fixt upon this Captain for his freedom, + And happily you find his tongue too forward; + As I am Master of the place I carry, + 'Tis fit I think so too; but were I this man, + No stronger tie upon me, than the truth + And tongue to tell it, I should speak as he do's, + And think with modesty enough, such Saints + That daily thrust their loves and lives through hazards, + And fearless for their Countries peace, march hourly + Through all the doors of death, and know the darkest, + Should better be canoniz'd for their service: + What labour would these men neglect, what danger + Where honour is, though seated in a Billow, + Rising as high as Heaven, would not these Souldiers, + Like to so many Sea-gods charge up to it? + Do you see these swords? times Sythe was ne'er so sharp, Sir; + Nor ever at one harvest mow'd such handfuls: + Thoughts ne'er so sudden, nor belief so sure + When they are drawn, and were it not sometimes + I swim upon their angers to allay 'em, + And like a calm depress their fell intentions; + They are so deadly sure, nature would suffer-- + And whose are all these glories? why, their Princes, + Their Countries, and their Friends? Alas, of all these, + And all the happy ends they bring, the blessings, + They only share the labours: A little joy then, + And outside of a welcome, at an upshot + Would not have done amiss, Sir; but howsoever + Between me and my duty, no crack, Sir, + Shall dare appear: I hope by my example + No discontent in them: without doubt Gentlemen, + The Duke will both look suddenly and truly + On your deserts: Methinks 'twere good they were paid, Sir. + + _Bor._ They shall be immediately; I stay for money; + And any favour else-- + + _Arch._ We are all bound to ye; + And so I take my leave, Sir; when the Duke pleases + To make me worthy of his eyes-- + + _Bor._ Which will be suddenly, + I know his good thoughts to ye. + + _Arch._ With all duty, + And all humility, I shall attend, Sir. + + _Bor._ Once more you are welcome home: these shall be satisfied. + + _The._ Be sure we be: and handsomly. + + _Arch._ Wait you on me, Sir. + + _The._ And honestly: no jugling. + + _Arch._ Will ye come, Sir? [_Exit._ + + _Bor._ Pray do not doubt. + + _The._ We are no Boys. [_Exit._ + + _Enter a Gent. and 2 or 3 with Mony._ + + _Bor._ Well Sir. + + _Gent._ Here's mony from the Duke, and't please your Lordship. + + _Bor._ 'Tis well. + + _Gent._ How sowre the Souldiers look? + + _Bor._ Is't told? + + _Gent._ Yes, and for every company a double pay, + And the Dukes love to all. + + _Anc._ That's worth a Ducket. + + _Bor._ You that be Officers, see it discharg'd then, + Why do not you take it up? + + _Anc._ 'Tis too heavy: + 'Body o'me, I have strain'd mine arm. + + _Bor._ Do ye scorn it? + + _Anc._ Has your Lor[d]ship any dice about ye? sit round Gentlemen, + And come on seven for my share. + + _Put._ Do you think Sir, + This is the end we fight? can this durt draw us + To such a stupid tameness, that our service + Neglected, and look'd lamely on, and skew'd at + With a few honourable words, and this, is righted? + Have not we eyes and ears, to hear and see Sir, + And minds to understand the slights we carry? + I come home old, and full of hurts, men look on me + As if I had got 'em from a whore, and shun me; + I tell my griefs, and fear my wants, I am answer'd, + Alas 'tis pity! pray dine with me on Sunday: + These are the sores we are sick of, the minds maladies, + And can this cure 'em? you should have us'd us nobly, + And for our doing well, as well proclaim'd us + To the worlds eye, have shew'd and sainted us, + Then ye had paid us bravely: then we had shin'd Sir, + Not in this gilded stuff but in our glory: + You may take back your mony. + + _Gent._ This I fear'd still. + + _Bor._ Consider better Gentlemen. + + _Anc._ Thank your Lordship: + And now I'le put on my considering cap: + My Lord, that I am no Courtier, you may guess it + By having no sute to you for this mony: + For though I want, I want not this, nor shall not, + Whilst you want that civility to rank it + With those rights we expected; mony grows Sir, + And men must gather it, all is not put in one purse. + And that I am no Carter, I could never whistle yet: + But that I am a Souldier, and a Gentleman, + And a fine Gentleman, and't like your honour, + And a most pleasant companion: all you that are witty, + Come list to my ditty: come set in boyes, + With your Lordships patience. [_Song._ + How do you like my Song, my Lord? + + _Bor._ Even as I like your self, but 'twould be a great deal better, + You would prove a great deal wiser, and take this mony, + In your own phrase I speak now Sir, and 'tis very well + You have learn'd to sing; for since you prove so liberal, + To refuse such means as this, maintain your voice still, + 'Twill prove your best friend. + + _Anc._ 'Tis a singing age Sir, + A merry moon here now: I'le follow it: + Fidling, and fooling now, gains more than fighting. + + _Bor._ What is't you blench at? what would you ask? speak freely. + + _Sol._ And so we dare: a triumph for the General, + + _Put._ And then an honour special to his vertue. + + _Anc._ That we may be prefer'd that have serv'd for it, + And cram'd up into favour like the worshipful, + At least upon the Cities charge made drunk + For one whole year; we have done 'em ten years service; + That we may enjoy our lechery without grudging, + And mine, or thine be nothing, all things equal, + And catch as catch may, be proclaim'd: that when we borrow, + And have no will to pay again, no Law + Lay hold upon us, nor no Court controule us. + + _Bor._ Some of these may come to pass; the Duke may do 'em, + And no doubt will: the General will find too, + And so will you, if you but stay with patience: I have no power. + + _Put._ Nor will: come fellow Souldiers. + + _Bor._ Pray be not so distrustfull. + + _Put._ There are waies yet, + And honest waies; we are not brought up Statues. + + _Anc._ If your Lordship + Have any silk stockings, that have holes i'th' heels, + Or ever an honourable Cassock that wants buttons, + I could have cur'd such maladies: your Lordships custome + And my good Ladies, if the bones want setting + In her old bodies-- + + _Bor._ This is disobedience. + + _Anc._ Eight pence a day, and hard Eggs. + + _Put._ Troop off Gentlemen, + Some Coin we have, whilst this lasts, or our credits, + We'l never sell our Generals worth for six-pence. + Ye are beholding to us. + + _Anc._ Fare ye well Sir, + And buy a pipe with that: do ye see this skarf Sir? + By this hand I'le cry Brooms in't, birchen Brooms Sir, + Before I eat one bit from your benevolence. + Now to our old occupations again. + By your leave Lord. [_Exeunt._ + + _Bor._ You will bite when ye are sharper; take up the mony. + This love I must remove, this fondness to him, + This tenderness of heart; I have lost my way else. + There is no sending man, they will not take it, + They are yet too full of pillage, + They'l dance for't ere't be long: + Come, bring it after. + + _Enter_ Duke. + + _Duke._ How now, refus'd their mony? + + _Bor._ Very bravely, + And stand upon such terms 'tis terrible. + + _Duke._ Where's _Archas_? + + _Bor._ He's retir'd Sir, to his house, + According to your pleasure, full of dutie + To outward shew: but what within-- + + _Duke._ Refuse it? + + _Bor._ Most confidently: 'tis not your revenues + Can feed the[m] Sir, and yet they have found a General + That knows no ebbe of bountie: there they eat Sir, + And loath your invitations. + + _Duke._ 'Tis not possible, + He's poor as they. + + _Bor._ You'l find it otherwise. + Pray make your journey thither presently, + And as ye goe I'le open ye a wonder. + Good Sir this morning. + + _Duke._ Follow me, I'le doe it. [_Exeunt._ + + +SCENA II. + + _Enter_ Olympia, Alinda, Burris, _and Gentlewomen_. + + _Olym._ But do you think my Brother loves her? + + _Bur._ Certain Madam, + He speaks much of her, and sometimes with wonder, + Oft wishes she were nobler born. + + _Olym._ Do you think him honest? + + _Bur._ Your Grace is nearer to his heart, than I am, + Upon my life I hold him so. + + _Olym._ 'Tis a poor wench, + I would not have her wrong'd: methinks my Brother-- + But I must not give rules to his affections; + Yet if he weigh her worth-- + + _Bur._ You need not fear Madam. + + _Olym._ I hope I shall not: Lord _Burris_ + I love her well; I know not, there is something + Makes me bestow more than a care upon her: + I do not like that ring from him to her; + I mean to women of her way, such tokens + Rather appear as baits, than royal bounties: + I would not have it so. + + _Bur._ You will not find it, + Upon my troth I think his most ambition + Is but to let the world know h'as a handsom Mistris: + Will your grace command me any service to him? + + _Olym._ Remember all my duty. + + _Bur._ Blessings crown ye: + What's your will Lady? + + _Al._ Any thing that's honest; + And if you think it fit, so poor a service, + Clad in a ragged vertue, may reach him, + I do beseech your Lordship speak it humbly. + + _Bur._ Fair one I will: in the best phrase I have too, + And so I kiss your hand. [_Exit._ + + _Al._ Your Lordships Servant. + + _Olym._ Come hither wench, what art thou doing with that Ring? + + _Al._ I am looking on the posie, Madam. + + _Olym._ What is't? + + _Al._ The Jewel's set within. + + _Olym._ But where the joy wench, + When that invisible Jewel's lost? why dost thou smile so? + What unhappy meaning hast thou? + + _Al._. Nothing Madam, + But only thinking what strange spells these Rings have, + And how they work with some. + + _Pet._ I fear with you too. + + _Al._ This could not cost above a Crown. + + _Pet._ 'Twill cost you + The shaving of your crown, if not the washing. + + _Olym._ But he that sent it, makes the vertue greater; + + _Al._ I and the vice too Madam: goodness bless me: + How fit 'tis for my finger! + + _2 W._ No doubt you'l find too + A finger fit for you. + + _Al._ Sirrah, _Petesca_, + What wilt thou give me for the good that follows this? + But thou hast Rings enough, thou art provided: + Heigh ho, what must I doe now? + + _Pet._ You'l be taught that, + The easiest part that e're you learn't, I warrant you. + + _Al._ Ay me, ay me. + + _Pet._ You will divide too, shortly, + Your voice comes finely forward. + + _Olym._ Come hither wanton, + Thou art not surely as thou saist. + + _Al._ I would not: + But sure there is a witchcraft in this Ring, Lady, + Lord how my heart leaps! + + _Pet._ 'Twill goe pit a pat shortly. + + _Al._ And now methinks a thousand of the Dukes shapes. + + _2 W._ Will no less serve ye? + + _Al._ In ten thousand smiles. + + _Olym._ Heaven bless the wench. + + _Al._ With eyes that will not be deni'd to enter; + And such soft sweet embraces; take it from me, + I am undone else Madam: I'm lost else. + + _Olym._ What ailes the girle? + + _Al._ How suddenly I'm alter'd! + And grown my self again! do not you feel it? + + _Olym._ Wear that, and I'le wear this: + I'le try the strength on't. + + _Al._ How cold my bloud grows now! + Here's sacred vertue: + When I leave to honour this, + Every hour to pay a kiss, + When each morning I arise, + Or I forget a sacrifice: + When this figure in my faith, + And the pureness that it hath, + I pursue not with my will, + Nearer to arrive at still: + When I lose, or change this Jewel, + Flie me faith, and heaven be cruel. + + _Olym._ You have half confirm'd me, + Keep but that way sure, + And what this charm can doe, let me endure. [_Exeunt._ + + +SCENA III. + + _Enter_ Archas, Theodore, _2 Daughters_ Honora _and_ Viola. + + _Ar._ Carry your self discreetly, it concerns me, + The Duke's come in, none of your froward passions, + Nor no distasts to any: Prethee _Theodor_, + By my life, boy, 'twill ruine me. + + _The._ I have done Sir, + So there be no foul play he brings along with him. + + _Ar._ What's that to you? + Let him bring what please him, + And whom, and how. + + _The._ So they mean well-- + + _Ar._ Is't fit you be a Judge sirrah? + + _The._ 'Tis fit I feel Sir. + + _Ar._ Get a banquet ready, + And trim your selves up handsomly. + + _The._ To what end? + Do you mean to make 'em whores? + Hang up a sign then, + And set 'em out to Livery. + + _Ar._ Whose son art thou? + + _The._ Yours Sir, I hope: but not of your disgraces. + + _Ar._ Full twenty thousand men I have commanded, + And all their minds, with this calm'd all their angers; + And shall a boy of mine own breed too, of mine own blood, + One crooked stick-- + + _The._ Pray take your way, and thrive in't, + I'le quit your house; if taint or black dishonour + Light on ye, 'tis your own, I have no share in't. + Yet if it do fall out so, as I fear it, + And partly find it too-- + + _Ar._ Hast thou no reverence? + No dutie in thee? + + _The._ This shall shew I obey ye: + I dare not stay: I would have shew'd my love too, + And that you ask as duty, with my life Sir, + Had you but thought me worthy of your hazards, + Which heaven preserve ye from, and keep the Duke too: + And there's an end of my wishes, God be with ye. [_Exit._ + + _Ar._ Stubborn, yet full of that we all love, honesty. + + _Enter_ Burris. + + Lord _Burris_, where's the Duke? + + _Bur._ In the great chamber Sir, + And there stayes till he see you, ye 'have a fine house here. + + _Ar._ A poor contented lodge, unfit for his presence, + Yet all the joy it hath. + + _Bur._ I hope a great one, and for your good, brave Sir. + + _Ar._ I thank ye Lord: + And now my service to the Duke. + + _Bur._ I'le wait on ye. [_Exeunt._ + + _Enter_ Duke, Boroskey, _Gent. and Attendants_. + + _Duke._ May this be credited? + + _Bor._ Disgrace me else, + And never more with favour look upon me. + + _Duke._ It seems impossible. + + _Bor._ It cannot chuse Sir, + Till your own eyes behold it; but that it is so, + And that by this means the too haughtie Souldier + Has been so cramm'd and fed, he cares not for ye; + Believe, or let me perish: Let your eyes + As you observe the house, but where I point it, + Make stay, and take a view, and then you have found it. + + _Enter_ Archas, Burris, _2 Daughters, and Servant_. + + _Du._ I'le follow your direction: welcome _Archas_, + You are welcome home brave Lord, we are come to visit ye, + And thank ye for your service. + + _Ar._ 'Twas so poor Sir, + In true respect of what I owe your Highness, + It merits nothing. + + _Du._ Are these fair ones yours, Lord? + + _Ar._ Their Mother made me think so Sir. + + _Du._ Stand up Ladies: + Beshrew my heart they are fair ones; methinks fitter + The lustre of the Court, than thus live darken'd: + I would see your house Lord _Archas_, it appears to me + A handsom pile. + + _Ar._ 'Tis neat but no great structure; + I'le be your Graces guide, give me the keyes there. + + _Du._ Lead on, we'l follow ye: begin with the Gallery, + I think that's one. + + _Arc._ 'Tis so, and't please ye, Sir, + The rest above are lodgings all. + + _Du._ Go on, Sir. [_Exeunt._ + + +SCENE IV. + + _Enter_ Theodore, Putskey, _and Ancient_. + + _Puts._ The Duke gone thither, do you say? + + _The._ Yes marry do I, + And all the Ducklings too; but what they'll do there-- + + _Puts._ I hope they'll crown his service. + + _The._ With a Custard; + This is no weather for rewards: they crown his service? + Rather they go to shave his Crown: I was rated + As if I had been a Dog had worried Sheep, out of doors, + For making but a doubt. + + _Puts._ They must now grace him. + + _The._ Mark but the end. + + _Anc._ I am sure they should reward him, they cannot want him. + + _The._ They that want honesty, want any thing. + + _Puts._ The Duke is so noble in his own thoughts. + + _The._ That I grant ye, + If those might only sway him: but 'tis most certain, + So many new born Flies his light gave life to, + Buzze in his beams, Flesh-flies, and Butterflies, + Hornets, and humming Scarabs, that not one honey Bee + That's loaden with true labour, and brings home + Encrease and Credit, can 'scape rifling, + And what she sucks for sweet, they turn to bitterness. + + _Anc._ Shall we go see what they do, and talk our mind to 'em? + + _Puts._ That we have done too much, and to no purpose. + + _Anc._ Shall we be hang'd for him? + I have a great mind to be hang'd now + For doing some brave thing for him; a worse end will take me, + And for an action of no worth; not honour him? + Upon my Conscience, even the Devil, the very Devil + (Not to belie him) thinks him an honest man, + I am sure he has sent him souls any time these twenty years, + Able to furnish all his Fish-markets. + + _The._ Leave thy talking, + And come, let's go to dinner and drink to him, + We shall hear more ere supper time: if he be honour'd, + He has deserv'd it well, and we shall fight for't: + If he be ruin'd, so, we know the worst then, + And for my self, I'll meet it. + + _Puts._ I ne'r fear it. [_Exeunt._ + + +SCENE V. + + _Enter Duke_, Archas, Boroskey, Burris, _Gentlemen, and + Attendants_. + + _Du._ They are handsome rooms all, well contriv'd and fitted, + Full of convenience, the prospect's excellent. + + _Arc._ Now will your Grace pass down, and do me but the honour + To taste a Countrey Banquet? + + _Du._ What room's that? + I would see all now; what conveyance has it? + I see you have kept the best part yet; pray open it. + + _Arc._ Ha! I misdoubted this: 'tis of no receipt, Sir, + For your eyes most unfit-- + + _Du._I long to see it, + Because I would judge of the whole piece: some excellent painting, + Or some rare spoils you would keep to entertain me + Another time, I know. + + _A[r]c._ In troth there is not, + Nor any thing worth your sight; below I have + Some Fountains, and some Ponds. + + _Du._ I would see this now. + + _Ar._ _Boroskie_, thou art a Knave; it contains nothing + But rubbish from the other rooms and unnecessaries: + Will't please you see a strange Clock? + + _Du._ This or nothing: [_Little Trunk ready._ + Why should you bar it up thus with defences + Above the rest, unless it contain'd something + More excellent, and curious of keeping? + Open't, for I will see it. + + _Arc._ The Keys are lost, Sir: + Does your Grace think if it were fit for you, + I could be so unmannerly? + + _Du._ I will see it, and either shew it-- + + _Arc._ Good Sir-- + + _Du._ Thank ye, _Archas_, + You shew your love abundantly, + Do I use to entreat thus? force it open. + + _Bur._ That were inhospitable; you are his Guest, Sir, + And with his greatest joy, to entertain ye. + + _Du._ Hold thy peace, Fool; will ye open it? + + _Arc._ Sir, I cannot. + I must not if I could. + + _Du._ Go, break it open. + + _Arc._ I must withstand that force: Be not too rash, Gentlemen. + + _Du._ Unarm him first, then if he be not obstinate + Preserve his life. + + _Arc._ I thank your Grace, I take it; + And now take you the Keys, go in, and see, Sir; + There feed your eyes with wonder, and thank that Traytor, + That thing that sells his faith for favour. [_Exit Duke._ + + _Bur._ Sir, what moves ye? + + _Arc._ I have kept mine pure: Lord _Burris_, there's a _Judas_, + That for a smile will sell ye all: a Gentleman? + The Devil has more truth, and has maintain'd it; + A Whores heart more belief in't. + + _Enter Duke._ + + _Du._ What's all this, _Archas_? + I cannot blame you to conceal it so, + This most inestimable Treasure. + + _Ar._ Yours Sir. + + _Du._ Nor do I wonder now the Souldier sleights me. + + _Arc._ Be not deceiv'd; he has had no favour here, Sir, + Nor had you known this now, but for that Pick-thank, + The lost man in his faith, he has reveal'd it, + To suck a little honey from ye has betray'd it. + I swear he smiles upon me, and forsworn too, + Thou crackt, uncurrant Lord: I'll tell ye all, Sir: + Your Sire, before his death, knowing your temper, + To be as bounteous as the air, and open, + As flowing as the Sea to all that follow'd ye, + Your great mind fit for War and Glory, thriftily + Like a great Husband to preserve your actions, + Collected all this treasure; to our trusts, + To mine I mean, and to that long-tongu'd Lord's there, + He gave the knowledg and the charge of all this, + Upon his death-Bed too: And on the Sacrament + He swore us thus, never to let this Treasure + Part from our secret keepings, till no hope + Of Subject could relieve ye, all your own wasted, + No help of those that lov'd ye could supply ye, + And then some great exploit a foot; my honesty + I would have kept till I had made this useful; + I shew'd it, and I stood it to the tempest, + And useful to the end 'twas left: I am cozen'd, + And so are you too, if you spend this vainly; + This Worm that crept into ye has abus'd ye, + Abus'd your fathers care, abus'd his Faith too: + Nor can this mass of money make him man more, + A flea'd Dog has more soul, an Ape more honesty; + All mine ye have amongst it, farewel that, + I cannot part with't nobler; my heart's clear, + My Conscience smooth as that, no rub upon't: + But O thy Hell! + + _Bor._ I seek no Heaven from you, Sir. + + _Arc._ Thy gnawing Hell, _Boroskey_, it will find thee: + Would ye heap Coals upon his head has wrong'd ye, + Has ruin'd your estate? give him this money, + Melt it into his mouth. + + _Du._ What little Trunk's that? + That there o'th' top, that's lockt? + + _Bor._ You'll find it rich, Sir, + Richer I think than all. + + _Arc._ You were not covetous, + Nor wont to weave your thoughts with such a courseness; + Pray rack not Honesty. + + _Bor._ Be sure you see it. + + _Du._ Bring out the Trunk. + + _Enter with the Trunk._ + + _Arc._ You'll find that treasure too, + All I have left me now. + + _Du._ What's this, a poor Gown? + And this a piece of _Seneca_? + + _Arc._ Yes sure, Sir, + More worth than all your Gold, yet ye have enough on't, + And of a Mine far purer, and more precious; + This sells no friends, nor searches into counsels, + And yet all counsel, and all friends live here, Sir; + Betrays no Faith, yet handles all that's trusty: + Will't please you leave me this? + + _Du._ With all my heart, Sir. + + _Ar._ What says your Lordship to't? + + _Bor._ I dare not rob ye. + + _Arc._ Poor miserable men, you have rob'd your selves both; + This Gown, and this unvalu'd Treasure, your brave Father, + Found me a Child at School with, in his progress. + Where such a love he took to some few answers, + Unhappy Boyish toys hit in my head then, + That suddenly I made him, thus as I was, + (For here was all the Wealth I brought his Highness) + He carried me to Court, there bred me up, + Bestow'd his favours on me, taught me the Arms first, + With those an honest mind; I serv'd him truly, + And where he gave me trust, I think I fail'd not; + Let the World speak: I humbly thank your Highness, + You have done more, and nobler, eas'd mine age, Sir; + And to this care a fair _Quietus_ given, + Now to my Book again. + + _Du._ You have your wish, Sir, + Let some bring off the treasure. + + _Bor._ Some is his, Sir. + + _Arc._ None, none, a poor unworthy reaper, + The Harvest is his Graces. + + _Du._ Thank you, _Archas_. + + _Arc._ But will not you repent, Lord? when this is gone + Where will your Lordship?-- + + _Bor._ Pray take you no care, Sir. + + _Arc._ Does your Grace like my House? + + _Du._ Wondrous well, _Archas_, + You have made me richly welcome. + + _Arc._ I did my best, Sir. + Is there any thing else may please your Grace? + + _Du._ Your Daughters + I had forgot, send them to Court. + + _Arc._ How's that, Sir? + + _Du._ I said your Daughters; see it done: I'll have 'em + Attend my Sister, _Archas_. + + _Arc._ Thank your Highness. + + _Du._ And suddenly. [_Exit._ + + _Arc._ Through all the ways I dare, + I'll serve your temper, though you try me far. [_Exit._ + + + + +_Actus Tertius. Scena Prima._ + + + _Enter_ Theodore, Putskey, _Ancient and Servant_. + + _The._ I wonder we hear no news. + + _Puts._ Here's your fathers servant, + He comes in haste too, now we shall know all, Sir. + + _The._ How now? + + _Ser._ I am glad I have met you, Sir; your father + Intreats you presently make haste unto him. + + _The._ What news? + + _Ser._ None of the best, Sir, I am asham'd to tell it, + Pray ask no more. + + _The._ Did not I tell ye, Gentlemen? + Did not I prophesie? he's undone then. + + _Ser._ Not so, Sir, but as near it-- + + _Puts._ There's no help now; + The Army's scatter'd all, through discontent, + Not to be rallied up in haste to help this. + + _Anc._ Plague of the Devil; have ye watch'd your seasons? + We shall watch you ere long. + + _The._ Farewel, there's no cure, + We must endure all now: I know what I'll do. + [_Exeunt_ Theodore _and Servant_. + + _Puts._ Nay, there's no striving, they have a hand upon us, + A heavy and a hard one. + + _Anc._ Now I have it, + We have yet some Gentlemen, some Boys of mettle, + (What, are we bob'd thus still, colted, and carted?) + And one mad trick we'll have to shame these Vipers; + Shall I bless 'em? + + _Puts._ Farewel; I have thought my way too. [_Exit._ + + _Anc._ Were never such rare Cries in Christendome, + As _Mosco_ shall afford: we'll live by fooling + Now fighting's gone, and they shall find and feel it. [_Exit._ + + +SCENE II. + + _Enter_ Archas, Honora, _and_ Viola. + + _Ar._ No more, it must be so; do you think I would send ye, + Your father and your friend-- + + _Viol._ Pray Sir, be good to us, + Alas, we know no Court, nor seek that knowledge; + We are content with harmless things at home, + Children of your content, bred up in quiet, + Only to know our selves, to seek a Wisedome + From that we understand, easie and honest; + To make our actions worthy of your Honour, + Their ends as innocent as we begot 'em; + What shall we look for Sir, what shall we learn there, + That this more private sweetness cannot teach us? + Vertue was never built upon ambition, + Nor the Souls Beauties bred out of Bravery: + What a terrible Father would you seem to us, + Now you have moulded us, and wrought our tempers + To easie and obedient ways, uncrooked, + Where the fair mind can never lose nor loiter, + Now to divert our Natures, now to stem us + Roughly against the tide of all this treasure? + Would ye have us proud? 'tis sooner bred than buried; + Wickedly proud? for such things dwell at Court, Sir. + + _Hon._ Would ye have your Children learn to forget their father, + And when he dies dance on his Monument? + Shall we seek Vertue in a Sattin Gown; + Embroider'd Vertue? Faith in a well-curl'd Feather? + And set our Credits to the tune of green sleeves? + This may be done; and if you like, it shall be. + You should have sent us thither when we were younger, + Our maiden-heads at a higher rate; our Innocence + Able to make a Mart indeed: we are now too old, Sir, + Perhaps they'll think too cunning too, and slight us; + Besides, we are altogether unprovided, + Unfurnisht utterly of the rules should guide us: + This Lord comes, licks his hand, and protests to me; + Compares my Beauty to a thousand fine things; + Mountains, and Fountains, Trees, and Stars, and Goblins; + Now have not I the faith for to believe him; + He offers me the honourable courtesie, + To lye with me all night, what a misery is this? + I am bred up so foolishly, alas, I dare not, + And how madly these things will shew there. + + _Arc._ I send ye not, + Like parts infected, to draw more corruption; + Like Spiders to grow great, with growing evil: + With your own Vertues season'd, and my prayers, + The Card of goodness in your minds, that shows ye + When ye sail false; the needle toucht with honour, + That through the blackest storms, still points at happiness; + Your Bodies the tall barks, rib'd round with goodness, + Your Heavenly Souls the Pilots, thus I send you; + Thus I prepare your Voyage; sound before ye, + And ever as you sail through this Worlds Vanity, + Discover Sholes, Rocks, Quicksands, cry out to ye, + Like a good Master tack about for Honour: + The Court is Vertue's School, at least it should be; + Nearer the Sun the Mine lies, the metal's purer: + Be it granted, if the spring be once infected, + Those Branches that flow from him must run muddy; + Say you find some Sins there, and those no small ones, + And they like lazie fits begin to shake ye: + Say they affect your strengths, my happy Children, + Great things through greatest hazards are atchiev'd still, + And then they shine, then goodness has his glory, + His Crown fast rivetted, then time moves under, + Where, through the mist of errors, like the Sun, + Through thick and pitchy Clouds, he breaks out nobly. + + _Hon._ I thank you Sir, you have made me half a Souldier, + I will to Court most willingly, most fondly. + And if there be such stirring things amongst 'em, + Such Travellers into _Virginia_ + As Fame reports, if they can win me, take me; + I think I have a close Ward, and a sure one; + An honest mind I hope, 'tis petticoat-proof, + Chain-proof, and Jewel-proof; I know 'tis Gold-proof, + A Coach and four Horses cannot draw me from it: + As for your handsome Faces, and filed Tongues, + Curl'd Millers heads, I have another word for them, + And yet I'll flatter too, as fast as they do, + And lye, but not as lewdly; Come, be valiant, Sister, + She that dares not stand the push o'th' Court, dares nothing, + And yet come off ungraced: Sir, like you, + We both affect great dangers now, and the World shall see + All glory lies not in Mans Victorie. + + _Arc._ Mine own _Honora_. + + _Viol._ I am very fearful, + Would I were stronger built: you would have me honest? + + _Arc._ Or not at all my _Viola_. + + _Viol._ I'll think on't, + For 'tis no easie promise, and live there: + Do you think we shall do well? + + _Hon._ Why, what should aile us? + + _Viol._ Certain they'll tempt us strongly; beside the glory + Which Women may affect, they are handsom Gentlemen, + Every part speaks: nor is it one denial, + Nor two, nor ten; from every look we give 'em, + They'll frame a hope; even from our prayers, promises. + + _Hon._ Let 'em feed so, and be fat; there is no fear, wench, + I[f] thou beest fast to thy self. + + _Viol._ I hope I shall be; + And your example will work more. + + _Enter_ Theodore. + + _Hon._ Thou shalt not want it. + + _The._ How do you, Sir? can you lend a man an Angel? + I hear you let out money. + + _Arc._ Very well, Sir, + You are pleasantly dispos'd: I am glad to see it. + Can you lend me your patience, and be rul'd by me? + + _The._ Is't come to patience now? + + _Arc._ Is't not a Vertue? + + _The._ I know not: I ne'r found it so. + + _Arc._ That's because + Thy anger ever knows, and not thy judgment. + + _The._ I know you have been rifl'd. + + _Arc._ Nothing less, Boy; + Lord, what opinions these vain People publish! + Rifl'd of what? + + _The._ Study your Vertue, Patience, + It may get Mustard to your Meat. Why in such haste, Sir, + Sent ye for me? + + _Arc._ For this end only, _Theodore_, + To wait upon your Sisters to the Court; + I am commanded they live there. + + _The._ To th' Court, Sir? + + _Arc._ To th' Court I say. + + _The._ And must I wait upon 'em? + + _Arc._ Yes, 'tis most fit you should, you are their Brother. + + _The._ Is this the business? I had thought your mind, Sir, + Had been set forward on some noble action, + Something had truly stir'd ye. To th' Court with these? + Why, they are your Daughters, Sir. + + _Arc._ All this I know, Sir. + + _The._ The good old Woman on a Bed he threw: + To th' Court? + + _Arc._ Thou art mad. + + _The._ Nor drunk as you are: + Drunk with your duty, Sir: do you call it duty? + A pox of duty, what can these do there? + What should they do? Can ye look Babies, Sisters, + In the young Gallants eyes, and twirl their Band-strings? + Can ye ride out to air your selves? Pray Sir, + Be serious with me, do you speak this truly? + + _Arc._ Why, didst thou never hear of Women + Yet at Court, Boy? + + _The._ Yes, and good Women too, very good Women, + Excellent honest Women: but are you sure, Sir, + That these will prove so? + + _Hon._ There's the danger, Brother. + + _The._ God-a-mercy Wench, thou hast a grudging of it. + + _Arc._ Now be you serious, Sir, and observe what I say, + Do it, and do it handsomly; go with 'em. + + _The._ With all my heart, Sir; I am in no fault now; + If they be thought Whores for being in my Company; + Pray write upon their Backs, they are my Sisters, + And where I shall deliver 'em. + + _Arc._ Ye are wondrous jocund, + But prithee tell me, art thou so lewd a Fellow? + I never knew thee fail a truth. + + _The._ I am a Souldier, + And spell you what that means. + + _Arc._ A Souldier? + What dost thou make of me? + + _The._ Your Palate's down, Sir. + + _Arc._ I thank ye, Sir. + + _The._ Come, shall we to this matter? + You will to Court? + + _Hon._ If you will please to honour us. + + _The._ I'll honour ye, I warrant; I'll set ye off + With such a lustre, Wenches; alas poor _Viola_, + Thou art a fool, thou criest for eating white bread: + Be a good Huswife of thy tears, and save 'em, + Thou wilt have time enough to shed 'em, Sister. + Do you weep too? nay, then I'll fool no more. + Come worthy Sisters, since it must be so, + And since he thinks it fit to try your Vertues, + Be you as strong to truth, as I to guard ye, + And this old Gentleman shall have joy of ye. [_Exeunt._ + + +SCENE III. + + _Enter Duke, and_ Burris. + + _Du._ _Burris_ take you ten thousand of those Crowns, + And those two Chains of Pearl they hold the richest, + I give 'em ye. + + _Bur._ I humbly thank your Grace; + And may your great example work in me + That noble Charity to men more worthy, + And of more wants. + + _Du._ You bear a good mind, _Burris_; + Take twenty thousand now: be not so modest, + It shall be so, I give 'em: go, there's my ring for't. + + _Bur._ Heaven bless your Highness ever. [_Exit._ + + _Du._ You are honest. + + _Enter_ Alinda, _and_ Putskey _at door_. + + _Put._ They're coming now to Court, as fair as vertue: + Two brighter Stars ne'er rose here. + + _Alin._ Peace, I have it, + And what my Art can do; the Duke-- + + _Put._ I am gone, + Remember. [_Exit._ + + _Alin._ I am counsell'd to the full, Sir. + + _Duke._ My pretty Mistris, whither lyes your business? + How kindly I should take this, were it to me now? + + _Alin._ I must confess immediately to your Grace, + At this time. + + _Duke._ You have no address, I do believe ye, + I would ye had. + + _Alin._ 'Twere too much boldness, Sir, + Upon so little knowledge, less deserving. + + _Duke._ You'll make a perfect Courtier. + + _Alin._ A very poor one. + + _Duke._ A very fair one, sweet; come hither to me. + What killing eyes this Wench has! in his glory + Not the bright Sun, when the _Sirian_ Star reigns, + Shines half so fiery. + + _Alin._ Why does your Grace so view me? + Nothing but common handsomness dwells here, Sir, + Scarce that: your Grace is pleas'd to mock my meanness. + + _Duke._ Thou shalt not go: I do not lie unto thee, + In my eye thou appear'st-- + + _Alin._ Dim not the sight, Sir, + I am too dull an object. + + _Duke._ Canst thou love me? + Canst thou love him will honour thee? + + _Alin._ I can love, + And love as you do too: but 'twill not shew well: + Or if it do shew here where all light lustres, + Tinsel affections make a glorious glistering, + 'Twill halt i'th' handsom way. + + _Duke._ Are ye so cunning? + Dost think I love not truly? + + _Alin._ No, ye cannot, + You never travel'd that way yet: pray pardon me, + I prate so boldly to you. + + _Duke._ There's no harm done: + But what's your reason, sweet? + + _Alin._ I would tell your Grace, + But happily-- + + _Duke._ It shall be pleasing to me. + + _Alin._ I should love you again, and then you would hate me. + With all my service I should follow ye, + And through all dangers. + + _Duke._ This would more provoke me, + More make me see thy worths, + More make me meet 'em. + + _Alin._ You should do so, if ye did well and truly: + But though ye be a Prince, and have power in ye, + Power of example too, ye have fail'd and falter'd. + + _Duke._ Give me example where? + + _Alin._ You had a Mistris, + Oh Heaven, so bright, so brave a dame, so lovely, + In all her life so true! + + _Duke._ A Mistris? + + _Alin._ That serv'd you with that constancy, that care, + That lov'd your will, and woo'd it too. + + _Duke._ What Mistris? + + _Alin._ That nurs'd your honour up, held fast your vertue, + And when she kist encreas'd, not stole your goodness. + + _Duke._ And I neglected her? + + _Alin._ Lost her, forsook her, + Wantonly flung her off. + + _Duke._ What was her name? + + _Alin._ Her name as lovely as her self, as noble, + And in it all that's excellent. + + _Duke._ What was it? + + _Alin._ Her name was _Beau-desert_: + Do you know her now, Sir? + + _Duke._ _Beau-desert_? I do not remember-- + + _Alin._ I know you do not; + Yet she has a plainer name; Lord _Archas_ service; + Do you yet remember her? there was a Mistris + Fairer than Woman, far fonder to you, Sir, + Than Mothers to their first-born joyes: Can you love? + Dare you profess that truth to me a stranger, + A thing of no regard, no name, no lustre, + When your most noble love you have neglected, + A beauty all the world would woo and honour? + Would you have me credit this? think you can love me, + And hold ye constant, when I have read this story? + Is't possible you should ever favour me, + To a slight pleasure prove a friend, and fast too, + When, where you were most ty'd, most bound to benefit, + Bound by the chains of honesty and honour, + You have broke and boldly too? I am a weak one, + Arm'd only with my fears: I beseech your Grace + Tempt me no further. + + _Du._ Who taught you this Lesson? + + _Alin._ Woful experience, Sir: if you seek a fair one, + Worthy your love, if yet you have that perfect, + Two Daughters of his ruin'd vertue now + Arrive at Court, excellent fair indeed, Sir, + But this will be the Plague on't, they're excellent honest. + + _Enter_ Olympia _and_ Petesca _privately_. + + _Du._ I love thy face. + + _Alin._ Upon my life ye cannot: + I do not love it my self, Sir, 'tis a lewd one, + So truly ill Art cannot mend it; but if 'twere handsome, + At least if I thought so, you should hear me talk, Sir, + In a new strain; and though ye are a Prince, + Make ye Petition to me too, and wait my answers; + Yet o' my Conscience I should pity ye, + After some ten years siege. + + _Du._ Prethee do now. + + _Alin._ What would ye do? + + _Du._ Why I would lye with ye. + + _Alin._ I do not think ye would. + + _Du._ In troth I would Wench. + Here, take this Jewel. + + _Alin._ Out upon't, that's scurvy. + Nay, if we do, sure we'll do for good fellowship, + For pure love, or nothing: thus you shall be sure, Sir, + You shall not pay too dear for't. + + _Du._ Sure I cannot. + + _Alin._ By'r Lady but ye may: when ye have found me able + To do your work well, ye may pay my wages. + + _Pet._ Why does your Grace start back? + + _Olym._ I ha' seen that shakes me: + Chills all my bloud: O where is faith or goodness? + _Alinda_ thou art false, false, false thou fair one, + Wickedness false; and (wo is me) I see it. + For ever false. + + _Pet._ I am glad 't has taken thus right. [_Exeunt._ + + _Alin._ I'le go ask my Lady, Sir. + + _Du._ What? + + _Alin._ Whether I shall lye with ye, or no: If I find her willing-- + For look ye Sir, I have sworn, while I am in her service-- + ('Twas a rash Oath I must confess.) + + _Du._ Thou mockst me. + + _Alin._ Why, would ye lye with me, if I were willing? + Would you abuse my weakness? + + _Du._ I would piece it, + And make it stronger. + + _Alin._ I humbly thank your highness, + When you piece me, you must piece me to my Coffin: + When you have got my Maiden-head, I take it, + 'Tis not an inch of an Apes tail will restore it, + I love ye, and I honour ye, but this way + I'le neither love nor serve ye. + Heaven change your mind, Sir. [_Exit._ + + _Duke._ And thine too: + For it must be chang'd, it shall be. [_Exit._ + + +SCENE IV. + + _Enter_ Boroskie, Burris, Theodore, Viola _and_ Honora. + + _Bor._ They are goodly Gentlewomen. + + _Bur._ They are, + Wondrous sweet Women both. + + _Theo._ Does your Lordship like 'em? + They are my Sisters, Sir; good lusty Lasses, + They'll do their labour well, I warrant ye, + You'll find no Bed-straw here, Sir. + + _Hon._ Thank ye Brother. + + _The._ This is not so strongly built: but she is good mettle, + Of a good stirring strain too: she goes tith, Sir. + + _Enter two Gentlemen._ + + Here they be, Gentlemen, must make ye merry, + The toyes you wot of: do you like their complexions? + They be no Moors: what think ye of this hand, Gentlemen? + Here's a white Altar for your sacrifice: + A thousand kisses here. Nay, keep off yet Gentlemen, + Let's start first, and have fair play: what would ye give now + To turn the Globe up, and find the rich _Moluccas_? + To pass the straights? here (do ye itch) by St _Nicholas_, + Here's that will make ye scratch and claw, + Claw my fine Gentlemen, move ye in divers sorts: + Pray ye let me request ye, to forget + To say your prayers, whilest these are Courtiers; + Or if ye needs will think of Heaven, let it be no higher + Than their eyes. + + _Bor._ How will ye have 'em bestow'd, Sir? + + _Theo._ Even how your Lordship please, + So you do not bake 'em. + + _Bor._ Bake 'em? + + _Theo._ They are too high a meat that way, they run to gelly. + But if you'll have 'em for your own diet, take my counsel, + Stew 'em between two Feather-beds. + + _Bur._ Please you Colonel + To let 'em wait upon the Princess? + + _Theo._ Yes, Sir, + And thank your honour too: but then happily, + These noble Gentlemen shall have no access to 'em, + And to have 'em buy new Cloaths, study new faces, + And keep a stinking stir with themselves for nothing, + 'Twill not be well i'faith: they have kept their bodies, + And been at charge for Bathes: do you see that shirt there? + Weigh but the moral meaning, 'twill be grievous: + Alas, I brought 'em to delight these Gentlemen, + I weigh their wants by mine: I brought 'em wholesome, + Wholesome, and young my Lord, and two such blessings + They will not light upon again in ten years. + + _Bor._ 'Tis fit they wait upon her. + + _Theo._ They are fit for any thing: + They'll wait upon a man, they are not bashful, + Carry his Cloak, or unty his points, or any thing, + Drink drunk, and take Tobacco; the familiar'st fools-- + This wench will leap over Stools too, and sound a Trumpet, + Wrastle, and pitch the Bar; they are finely brought up. + + _Bor._ Ladies, ye are bound to your Brother, + And have much cause to thank him: + I'le ease ye of this charge, and to the Princess, + So please you, I'le attend 'em. + + _Theo._ Thank your Lordship: + If there be e're a private corner as ye go, Sir, + A foolish lobbie out o'th' way, make danger, + Try what they are, try-- + + _Bor._ Ye are a merry Gentleman. + + _The._ I would fain be your honours kinsman. + + _Bor._ Ye are too curst, Sir. + + _The._ Farewel wenches, keep close your ports, y'are washt else. + + _Hon._ Brother, bestow your fears where they are needful. + [_Exit_ Boros. Honor. Viol. + + _The._ _Honor_ thy name is, and I hope thy Nature. + Go after, Gentlemen, go, get a snatch if you can, + Yond' old _Erra Pater_ will never please 'em. + Alas I brought 'em for you, but see the luck on't, + I swear I meant as honestly toward ye-- + Nay do not cry good Gentlemen: a little counsel + Will do no harm: they'll walk abroad i'th' Evenings, + Ye may surprize 'em easily, they wear no Pistols. + Set down your minds in Metre, flowing Metre, + And get some good old linnen Woman to deliver it, + That has the trick on't: you cannot fail: + Farewel Gentlemen. [_Exeunt Gent._ + + _Bur._ You have frighted off these flesh-flies. + + _The._ Flesh-flies indeed my Lord. + + _Enter a Servant._ + + And it must be very stinking flesh they will not seize on. + + _Serv._ Your Lordship bid me bring this Casket. + + _Bur._ Yes, Good Colonel + Commend me to your worthy Father, and as a pledge + He ever holds my love, and service to him, + Deliver him this poor, but hearty token, + And where I may be his-- + + _The._ Ye are too noble; + A wonder here my Lord, that dare be honest, + When all men hold it vitious: I shall deliver it, + And with it your most noble love. Your servant. [_Ex._ Bur. + Were there but two more such at Court, 'twere Sainted, + This will buy Brawn this Christmas yet, and Muscadine. [_Ex._ + + +SCENE V. + + _Enter Ancient, crying Brooms, and after him severally, + four Souldiers, crying other things._ Boroskie _and Gent, + over the Stage observing them_. + +I. SONG. + + Anc. _Broom, Broom, the bonnie Broom, + Come buy my Birchen Broom, + I'th' Wars we have no more room, + Buy all my bonnie Broom, + For a kiss take two; + If those will not do, + For a little, little pleasure, + Take all my whole treasure: + If all these will not do't, + Take the Broom-man to boot. + Broom, Broom, the bonnie Broom._ + +II. SONG. + + 1 Soul. _The Wars are done and gone, + And Souldiers now neglected, Pedlers are, + Come Maidens, come alone, + For I can show you handsome, handsome ware; + Powders for, for the head, + And drinks for your bed, + To make ye blith and bonney. + As well in the night we Souldiers can fight, + And please a young wench as any._ + + 2 Soul. _I have fine Potato's, + Ripe Potato's._ + +III. SONG. + + 3 Soul. _Will ye buy any Honesty, come away, + I sell it openly by day, + I bring no forced light, nor no Candle + To cozen ye; come buy and handle: + This will shew the great man good, + The Tradesman where he swears and lyes, + Each Lady of a noble bloud, + The City dame to rule her eyes: + Ye are rich men now: come buy, and then + I'le make ye richer, honest men._ + +IV. SONG. + + 4 Sol. _Have ye any crackt maiden-heads, to new leach or mend? + Have ye any old maiden-heads to sell or to change? + Bring 'em to me with a little pretty gin, + I'le clout 'em, I'le mend 'em, I'le knock in a pin, + Shall make 'em as good maids agen, + As ever they have been._ + + _Bor._ What means all this, why do y'sell Brooms _Ancient_? + Is it in wantonness, or want? + + _An._ The only reason is, + To sweep your Lordships conscience: here's one for the nonce. + Gape Sir, you have swallowed many a goodlier matter-- + The only casting for a crazie conscience. + + _3 Sol._ Will your Lordship buy any honestie? 'twill be worth your mony. + + _B[o]r._ How is this? + + _3 Sol._ Honestie my Lord, 'tis here in a quill. + + _An._ Take heed you open it not, for 'tis so subtle, + The least puffe of wind will blow it out o'th' Kingdom. + + _2 Sol._ Will your Lordship please to taste a fine Potato? + 'Twill advance your wither'd state. + + _Anc._ Fill your honour full of most noble itches, + And make Jack dance in your Lordships breeches. + + 1 Sol. _If your Daughters on their beds. + Have bow'd, or crackt their maiden-heads; + If in a Coach with two much tumbling, + They chance to crie, fie, fo, what fumbling; + If her foot slip, and down fall she, + And break her leg 'bove the knee, + The one and thirtieth of Februarie let this be ta'ne, + And they shall be arrant maids again._ + + _Bor._ Ye are brave Souldiers; keep your wantonness, + A winter will come on to shake this wilfulness. + Disport your selves, and when you want your mony-- [_Exit._ + + _Anc._ Broom, Broom, &c. [_Exeunt Singing._ + + +SCENA VI. + + _Enter_ Alinda, Honora, Viola. + + _Al._ You must not be so fearfull, little one, + Nor Lady you so sad, you will ne're make Courtiers + With these dull sullen thoughts; this place is pleasure, + Preserv'd to that use, so inhabited; + And those that live here, live delightfull, joyfull: + These are the Gardens of _Adonis_, Ladies, + Where all sweets to their free and noble uses, + Grow ever young and courted. + + _Hon._ Bless me Heaven, + Can things of her years arrive at these rudiments? + By your leave fair Gentlewoman, how long have you been here? + + _Al._ Faith much about a week. + + _Hon._ You have studied hard, + And by my faith arriv'd at a great knowledge. + + _Viol._ Were not you bashfull at first? + + _Al._ I, I, for an hour or two: + But when I saw people laugh'd at me for it, + And thought it a dull breeding-- + + _Hon._ You are govern'd here then + Much after the mens opinions. + + _Al._ Ever Lady. + + _Hon._ And what they think is honourable.-- + + _Al._ Most precisely + We follow with all faith. + + _Hon._ A goodly Catechisme. + + _Viol._ But bashfull for an hour or two? + + _Al._ Faith to say true, + I do not think I was so long: for look ye, + 'Tis to no end here, put on what shape ye will, + And soure your self with ne're so much austeritie, + You shall be courted in the same, and won too, + 'Tis but some two hours more; and so much time lost, + Which we hold pretious here: In so much time now + As I have told you this, you may lose a Servant, + Your age, nor all your Art can e're recover. + Catch me occasion as she comes, hold fast there, + Till what you do affect is ripn'd to ye. + Has the Duke seen ye yet? + + _Hon._ What if he have not? + + _Al._ You do your beauties too much wrong, appearing + So full of sweetness, newness; set so richly, + As if a Counsel beyond nature fram'd ye. + + _Hon._ If we were thus, say heaven had given these blessings, + Must we turn these to sin-oblations? + + _Al._ How foolishly this Countrey way shews in ye? + How full of flegm? do you come here to pray, Ladies? + You had best cry, stand away, let me alone Gentlemen, + I'le tell my Father else. + + _Viol._ This woman's naught sure, + A very naughtie woman. + + _Hon._ Come, say on friend, + I'le be instructed by ye. + + _Al._ You'l thank me for't. + + _Hon._ Either I or the devil shall: The Duke you were speaking of. + + _Al._ 'Tis well remembred: yes, let him first see you, + Appear not openly till he has view'd ye. + + _Hon._ He's a very noble Prince they say. + + _Al._ O wondrous gracious; + And as you may deliver your self at the first viewing. + For look ye, you must bear your self; yet take heed + It be so season'd with a sweet humilitie, + And grac'd with such a bountie in your beautie-- + + _Hon._ But I hope he will offer me no ill? + + _Al._ No, no: + 'Tis like he will kiss ye, and play with ye. + + _Hon._ Play with me, how? + + _Al._ Why, good Lord, that you are such a fool now! + No harm assure your self. + + _Viol._ Will he play with me too? + + _Al._ Look babies in your eyes, my prettie sweet one: + There's a fine sport: do you know your lodgings yet? + + _Hon._ I hear of none. + + _Al._ I do then, they are handsom, + Convenient for access. + + _Viol._ Access? + + _Al._ Yes little one, + For visitation of those friends and Servants, + Your beauties shall make choice of: friends and visits: + Do not you know those uses? Alas poor novice; + There's a close Cowch or two, handsomely placed too. + + _Viol._ What are those I pray you? + + _Al._ Who would be troubled with such raw things? they are to lie upon, + And your love by ye; and discourse, and toy in. + + _Viol._ Alas I have no love. + + _Al._ You must by any means: + You'l have a hundred, fear not. + + _Viol._ Honestie keep me: + What shall I doe with all those? + + _Al._ You'l find uses: + Ye are ignorant yet, let time work; you must learn too, + To lie handsomly in your bed a mornings, neatly drest + In a most curious Wastcoat, to set ye off well, + Play with your Bracelets, sing: you must learn to rhime too, + And riddle neatly; studie the hardest language, + And 'tis no matter whether it be sense, or no, + So it go seemlie off. Be sure ye profit + In kissing, kissing sweetly: there lies a main point, + A key that opens to all practick pleasure; + I'le help ye to a friend of mine shall teach ye, + And suddenlie: your Country way is fulsome. + + _Hon._ Have ye schools for all these mysteries? + + _Al._ O yes, + And several hours prefix'd to studie in: + Ye may have Kalenders to know the good hour, + And when to take a jewel: for the ill too, + When to refuse, with observations on 'em; + Under what Sign 'tis best meeting in an Arbor, + And in what Bower, and hour it works; a thousand, + When in a Coach, when in a private lodging, + With all their vertues. + + _Hon._ Have ye studied these? + How beastly they become your youth? how bawdily? + A woman of your tenderness, a teacher, + Teacher of these lewd Arts? of your full beauty? + A man made up in lust would loath this in ye: + The rankest Leacher, hate such impudence. + They say the Devil can assume heavens brightness, + And so appear to tempt us: sure thou art no woman. + + _Al._ I joy to find ye thus. + + _Hon._ Thou hast no tenderness, + No reluctation in thy heart: 'tis mischief. + + _Al._ All's one for that; read these and then be satisfi'd, + A few more private rules I have gather'd for ye, + Read 'em, and well observe 'em: so I leave ye. [_Exit._ + + _Viol._ A wond[ro]us wicked woman: shame go with thee. + + _Hon._ What new _Pandoras_ box is this? I'le see it, + Though presently I tear it. Read Thine _Viola_, + 'Tis in our own wills to believe and follow. + + _Worthy_ Honora, _as you have begun + In vertues spotless school, so forward run: + Pursue that nobleness, and chaste desire + You ever had, burn in that holy fire; + And a white Martyr to fair memorie + Give up your name, unsoil'd of infamy._ + + How's this? Read yours out Sister: this amazes me. + + Vio. _Fear not thou yet unblasted Violet, + Nor let my wanton words a doubt beget, + Live in that peace and sweetness of thy bud, + Remember whose thou art, and grow still good. + Remember what thou art, and stand a storie + Fit for thy noble Sex, and thine own glorie._ + + _Hon._ I know not what to think. + + _Viol._ Sure a good woman, + An excellent woman, Sister. + + _Hon._ It confounds me; + Let 'em use all their arts, if these be their ends, + The Court I say breeds the best foes and friends. + Come, let's be honest wench, and doe our best service. + + _Viol._ A most excellent woman, I will love her. [_Exeunt._ + + + + +_Actus Quartus. Scena Prima._ + + + _Enter_ Olympia _with a Casket, and_ Alinda. + + _Al._ Madam, the Duke has sent for the two Ladies. + + _Olym._ I prethee go: I know thy thoughts are with him. + Go, go _Alinda_, do not mock me more. + I have found thy heart wench, do not wrong thy Mistris, + Thy too much loving Mistris: do not abuse her. + + _Al._ By your own fair hands I understand ye not. + + _Olym._ By thy own fair eyes I understand thee too much, + Too far, and built a faith there thou hast ruin'd. + Goe, and enjoy thy wish, thy youth, thy pleasure, + Enjoy the greatness no doubt he has promised, + Enjoy the service of all eyes that see thee, + The glory thou hast aim'd at, and the triumph: + Only this last love I ask, forget thy Mistris. + + _Al._ Oh, who has wrong'd me? who has ruin'd me? + Poor wretched Girle, what poyson is flung on thee? + Excellent vertue, from whence flows this anger? + + _Ol._ Go, ask my Brother, ask the faith thou gav'st me, + Ask all my favours to thee, ask my love, + Last, thy forgetfulness of good: then flye me, + For we must part _Alinda_. + + _Al._ You are weary of me; + I must confess, I was never worth your service, + Your bounteous favours less; but that my duty, + My ready will, and all I had to serve ye-- + O Heaven thou know'st my honestie. + + _Olym._ No more: + Take heed, heaven has a justice: take this ring with ye, + This doting spell you gave me: too well _Alinda_, + Thou knew'st the vertue in't; too well I feel it: + Nay keep that too, it may sometimes remember ye, + When you are willing to forget who gave it, + And to what vertuous end. + + _Al._ Must I goe from ye? + Of all the sorrows sorrow has--must I part with ye? + Part with my noble Mistris? + + _Olym._ Or I with thee wench. + + _Al._ And part stain'd with opinion? Farewel Lady, + Happy and blessed Lady, goodness keep ye: + Thus your poor Servant full of grief turns from ye, + For ever full of grief, for ever from ye. + I have no being now, no friends, no Country, + I wander heaven knows whither, heaven knows how. + No life, now you are lost: only mine innocence, + That little left me of my self, goes with me, + That's all my bread and comfort. I confess Madam, + Truely confess, the Duke has often courted me. + + _Olym._ And pour'd his Soul into thee, won thee. + + _Al._ Do you think so? + Well, time that told this tale, will tell my truth too, + And say ye had a faithfull, honest Servant: + The business of my life is now to pray for ye, + Pray for your vertuous loves; Pray for your children, + When Heaven shall make ye happy. + + _Olym._ How she wounds me! + Either I am undone, or she must go: take these with ye, + Some toyes may doe ye service; and this mony; + And when ye want, I love ye not so poorly, + Not yet _Alinda_, that I would see ye perish. + Prethee be good, and let me hear: look on me, + I love those eyes yet dearly; I have kiss'd thee, + And now I'le doe't again: Farewel _Alinda_, + I am too full to speak more, and too wretched. [_Exit._ + + _Al._ You have my faith, + And all the world my fortune. [_Exit._ + + +SCENA II. + + _Enter_ Theodor. + + _The._ I would fain hear + What becomes of these two Wenches: + And if I can, I will doe 'em good. + + _Enter Gentleman, passing over the Stage._ + + Do you hear my honest friend? + He knows no such name: + What a world of business, + Which by interpretation are meer nothings, + These things have here! 'Mass now I think on't better, + I wish he be not sent for one of them + To some of these by-lodgings: me thought I saw + A kind of reference in his face to Bawderie. + + _Enter Gentleman, with a Gentlewoman, passing over the Stage._ + + He has her, but 'tis none of them: hold fast thief: + An excellent touzing knave. Mistris + You are to suffer your penance some half hour hence now. + How far a fine Court Custard with Plums in it + Will prevail with one of these waiting Gentlewomen, + They are taken with these soluble things exceedingly; + This is some yeoman o'th' bottles now that has sent for her, + That she calls Father: now woe to this Ale incense. + By your leave Sir. + + _Enter a_ Servant. + + _Ser._ Well Sir; what's your pleasure with me? + + _The._ You do not know the way to the maids lodgings? + + _Ser._ Yes indeed do I Sir. + + _The._ But you will not tell me? + + _Ser._ No indeed will not I, because you doubt it. [_Exit._ + + _Enter_ 2 Servant. + + _The._ These are fine gim-cracks: hey, here comes another, + A Flagon full of wine in's hand, I take it. + Well met my friend, is that wine? + + _2 Ser._ Yes indeed is it. + + _The._ Faith I'le drink on't then. + + _2 Ser._ Ye may, because ye have sworn Sir. + + _The._ 'Tis very good, I'le drink a great deal now Sir. + + _2 Ser._ I cannot help it Sir. + + _The._ I'le drink more yet. + + _2 Ser._ 'Tis in your own hands. + + _The._ There's your pot, I thank ye. + Pray let me drink again. + + _2 Ser._ Faith but ye shall not. + Now have I sworn I take it. Fare ye well Sir. [_Exit._ + + _Enter_ Lady. + + _The._ This is the fin'st place to live in I e're enter'd. + Here comes a Gentlewoman, and alone; I'le to her. + Madam, my Lord my Master. + + _Lady._ Who's your Lord Sir? + + _The._ The Lord _Boroskey_, Lady. + + _Lady._ Pray excuse me: + Here's something for your pains: within this hour Sir, + One of the choice young Ladies shall attend him: + Pray let it be in that Chamber juts out to the water; + 'Tis private and convenient: doe my humble service + To my honourable good Lord, I beseech ye Sir; + If it please you to visit a poor Lady-- + You carrie the 'haviour of a noble Gentleman. + + _The._ I shall be bold. + + _Lady._ 'Tis a good aptness in ye. + I lye here in the Wood-yard, the blue lodgings Sir; + They call me merrily the Lady of the ---- Sir; + A little I know what belongs to a Gentleman, + And if it please you take the pains. [_Exit._ + + _The._ Dear Lady, take the pains? + Why a horse would not take the pains that thou requir'st now, + To cleave old crab-tree: one of the choice young Ladies? + I would I had let this Bawd goe, she has frighted me; + I am cruelly afraid of one of my Tribe now; + But if they will doe, the Devil cannot stop 'em. + Why should he have a young Lady? are women now + O'th' nature of Bottles, to be stopt with Corks? + O the thousand little furies that flye here now! + How now Captain? + + _Enter_ Putsky. + + _Puts._ I come to seek you out Sir, + And all the Town I have travell'd. + + _The._ What's the news man? + + _Puts._ That that concerns us all, and very nearly: + The Duke this night holds a great feast at Court, + To which he bids for guests all his old Counsellors, + And all his favourites: your Father's sent for. + + _The._ Why he is neither in council, nor in favour. + + _Pu._ That's it: have an eye now, or never, and a quick one, + An eye that must not wink from good intelligence. + I heard a Bird sing, they mean him no good office. + + _Enter_ Ancient. + + _The._ Art sure he sups here? + + _Puts._ Sure as 'tis day. + + _The._ 'Tis like then: + How now, where hast thou been _Ancient_? + + _Anc._ Measuring the City: + I have left my Brooms at gate here; + By this time the Porter has stole 'em to sweep out Rascals. + + _Theod._ Bro[o]ms? + + _Anc._ I have been crying Brooms all the town over, + And such a Mart I have made, there's no tread near it. + O the young handsom wenches, how they twitter'd, + When they but saw me shake my ware, and sing too; + Come hither Master Broom-man I beseech ye: + Good Master Broom-man hither, cries another. + + _The._ Thou art a mad fellow. + + _Anc._ They are all as mad as I: they all have tra[de]s now, + And roar about the streets like Bull-beggers. + + _The._ What company of Souldiers are they? + + _Anc._ By this means I have gather'd + Above a thousand tall and hardy Souldiers, + If need be Colonel. + + _The._ That need's come _Ancient_, + And 'twas discreetly done: goe, draw 'em presently, + But without suspicion: this night we shall need 'em; + Let 'em be near the Court, let _Putskie_ guide 'em; + And wait me for occasion: here I'le stay still. + + _Puts._ If it fall out we are ready; if not we are scatter'd: + I'le wait ye at an inch. + + _The._ Doe, Farewel. [_Exeunt._ + + +SCENA III. + + _Enter Duke_, Borosky. + + _Duke._ Are the Souldiers still so mutinous? + + _Bor._ More than ever, + No Law nor Justice frights 'em: all the Town over + They play new pranks and gambols: no mans person, + Of what degree soever, free from abuses: + And durst they doe this, (let your grace consider) + These monstrous, most offensive things, these villanies, + If not set on, and fed? if not by one + They honour more than you? and more aw'd by him? + + _Duke._ Happily their own wants. + + _Boros._ I offer to supply 'em, + And every hour make tender of their moneys: + They scorn it, laugh at me that offer it: + I fear the next device will be my life Sir; + And willingly I'le give it, so they stay there. + + _Duke._ Do you think Lord _Archas_ privie? + + _Bor._ More than thought, + I know it Sir, I know they durst not doe + These violent rude things, abuse the State thus, + But that they have a hope by his ambitions-- + + _Duke._ No more: he's sent for? + + _Boros._ Yes, and will be here sure. + + _Duke._ Let me talk further with you anon. + + _Boros._ I'le wait Sir. + + _Duke._ Did you speak to the Ladies? + + _Boros._ They'l attend your grace presently. + + _Duke._ How do you like 'em? + + _Boros._ My eyes are too dull Judges. + They wait here Sir. [_Exit._ + + _Enter_ Honora, _and_ Viola. + + _Duke._ Be you gone then: Come in Ladies, + Welcom to th' court sweet beauties; now the court shines, + When such true beams of beauty strike amongst us: + Welcom, welcom, even as your own joyes welcom. + How do you like the Court? how seems it to you? + Is't not a place created for all sweetness? + Why were you made such strangers to this happiness? + Barr'd the delights this holds? the richest jewels + Set ne're so well, if then not worn to wonder, + By judging eyes not set off, lose their lustre: + Your Country shades are faint; blasters of beauty; + The manners like the place, obscure and heavie; + The Rose buds of the beauties turn to cankers, + Eaten with inward thoughts: whilst there ye wander. + Here Ladies, here, you were not made for Cloisters, + Here is the Sphere you move in: here shine nobly, + And by your powerfull influence command all: + What a sweet modestie dwells round about 'em, + And like a nipping morn pulls in their blossoms? + + _Hon._ Your grace speaks cunningly, you doe not this, + I hope Sir, to betray us; we are poor triumphs; + Nor can our loss of honour adde to you Sir: + Great men, and great thoughts, seek things great and worthy, + Subjects to make 'em live, and not to lose 'em; + Conquests so nobly won, can never perish; + We are two simple maids, untutor'd here Sir; + Two honest maids, is that a sin at Court Sir? + Our breeding is obedience, but to good things, + To vertuous and to fair: what wou'd you win on us? + Why do I ask that question, when I have found ye? + Your Preamble has pour'd your heart out to us; + You would dishonour us; which in your translation + Here at the Court reads thus, your grace would love us, + Most dearly love us: stick us up for mistresses: + Most certain, there are thousands of our sex Sir + That would be glad of this, and handsom women, + And crowd into this favour, fair young women, + Excellent beauties Sir: when ye have enjoy'd 'em, + And suckt those sweets they have, what Saints are these then? + What worship have they won? what name you ghess Sir, + What storie added to their time, a sweet one? + + _Duke._ A brave spirited wench. + + _Hon._ I'le tell your grace, + And tell ye true: ye are deceiv'd in us two, + Extreamly cozen'd Sir: And yet in my eye + You are the handsomst man I ever lookt on, + The goodliest Gentleman; take that hope with ye; + And were I fit to be your wife (so much I honour ye) + Trust me I would scratch for ye but I would have ye. + I would wooe you then. + + _Duke._ She amazes me: + But how am I deceiv'd? + + _Hon._ O we are too honest, + Believe it Sir, too honest, far too honest, + The way that you propound too ignorant, + And there is no medling with us; for we are fools too, + Obstinate, peevish fools: if I would be ill, + And had a wantons itch, to kick my heels up, + I would not leap into th' Sun, and doe't there, + That all the world might see me: an obscure shade Sir, + Dark as the deed, there is no trusting light with it, + Nor that that's lighter far, vain-glorious greatness. + + _Duke._ You will love me as your friend? + + _Ho[n]._ I will honour ye, + As your poor humble handmaid serve, and pray for ye. + + _Du._ What sayes my little one; you are not so obstinate? + Lord how she blushes: here are truly fair souls: + Come you will be my love? + + _Viol._ Good Sir be good to me, + Indeed I'le doe the best I can to please ye; + I do beseech your grace: Alas I fear ye. + + _Duke._ What shouldst thou fear? + + _Hon._ Fie Sir, this is not noble. + + _Duke._ Why do I stand entreating, where my power-- + + _Hon._ You have no power, at least you ought to have none + In bad and beastly things: arm'd thus, I'le dye here, + Before she suffer wrong. + + _Duke._ Another _Archas_? + + _Hon._ His child Sir, and his spirit. + + _Duke._ I'le deal with you then, + For here's the honour to be won: sit down sweet, + Prethee _Honora_ sit. + + _Hon._ Now ye intreat I will Sir. + + _Duke._ I doe, and will deserve it. + + _Hon._ That's too much kindness. + + _Duke._ Prethee look on me. + + _Hon._ Yes: I love to see ye, + And could look on an age thus, and admire ye: + Whilst ye are good and temperate I dare touch ye, + Kiss your white hand. + + _Duke._ Why not my lips? + + _Hon._ I dare Sir. + + _Duke._ I do not think ye dare. + + _Hon._ I am no coward. + D[o] you believe me now? or now? or now Sir? + You make me blush: but sure I mean no ill Sir: + It had been fitter you had kiss'd me. + + _Du._ That I'le doe too. + What hast thou wrought into me? + + _Hon._ I hope all goodness: + Whilst ye are thus, thus honest, I dare do any thing, + Thus hang about your neck, and thus doat on ye; + Bless those fair lights: hell take me if I durst not-- + But good Sir pardon me. Sister come hither, + Come hither, fear not wench: come hither, blush not, + Come kiss the Prince, the vertuous Prince, the good Prince: + Certain he is excellent honest. + + _Du._ Thou wilt make me-- + + _Hon._ Sit down, and hug him softly. + + _Du._ Fie _Honora_, + Wanton _Honora_; is this the modesty, + The noble chastity your on-set shew'd me, + At first charge beaten back? Away. + + _Hon._ Thank ye: + Upon my knees I pray, heaven too may thank ye; + Ye have deceiv'd me cunningly, yet nobly + Ye have cozen'd me: In all your hopefull life yet, + A Scene of greater honour you ne're acted: + I knew fame was a lyar, too long, and loud tongu'd, + And now I have found it: O my vertuous Master. + + _Viol._ My vertuous Master too. + + _Hon._ Now you are thus, + What shall become of me let fortune cast for't. + + _Enter_ Alinda. + + _Du._ I'le be that fortune, if I live _Honora_, + Thou hast done a cure upon me, counsel could not. + + _Al._ Here take your ring Sir, and whom ye mean to ruine, + Give it to her next; I have paid for't dearly. + + _Hon._ A Ring to her? + + _Du._ Why frowns my fair _Alinda_? + I have forgot both these again. + + _Al._ Stand still Sir, + Ye have that violent killing fire upon ye, + Consumes all honour, credit, faith. + + _Hon._ How's this? + + _Al._ My Royal Mistris favour towards me, + Woe-worth ye Sir, ye have poyson'd, blasted. + + _Duke._ I sweet? + + _Al._ You have taken that unmanly liberty, + Which in a worse man, is vain glorious feigning, + And kill'd my truth. + + _Du._ Upon my life 'tis false wench. + + _Al._ Ladies, + Take heed, ye have a cunning gamester, + A handsom, and a high; come stor'd with Antidotes, + He has infections else will fire your blouds. + + _Du._ Prethee _Alinda_ hear me. + + _Al._ Words steept in hony, + That will so melt into your minds, buy Chastity, + A thousand wayes, a thousand knots to tie ye; + And when he has bound ye his, a thousand ruines. + A poor lost woman ye have made me. + + _Du._ I'le maintain thee, + And nobly too. + + _Al._ That Gin's too weak to take me: + Take heed, take heed young Ladies: still take heed, + Take heed of promises, take heed of gifts, + Of forced feigned sorrows, sighs, take heed. + + _Du._ By all that's mine, _Alinda_-- + + _Al._ Swear + By your mischiefs: + O whither shall I goe? + + _Duke._ Go back again, + I'le force her take thee, love thee. + + _Alin._ Fare ye well, Sir, + I will not curse ye; only this dwell with ye, + When ever ye love, a false belief light on ye. [_Exit._ + + _Hon._ We'll take our leaves too, Sir. + + _Duke._ Part all the world now, + Since she is gone. + + _Hon._ You are crooked yet, dear Master, + And still I fear-- [_Exeunt._ + + _Duke._ I am vext, + And some shall find it. [_Exit._ + + +SCENE IV. + + _Enter_ Archas _and a Servant_. + + _Ar._ 'Tis strange + To me to see the Court, and welcome: + O Royal place, how have I lov'd and serv'd thee? + Who lies on this side, know'st thou? + + _Ser._ The Lord _Burris_. + + _Ar._ Thou hast nam'd a Gentleman + I stand much bound to: + I think he sent the Casket, Sir? + + _Ser._ The same, Sir. + + _Ar._ An honest minded man, a noble Courtier: + The Duke made perfect choice when he took him. + Go you home, I shall hit the way + Without a guide now. + + _Ser._ You may want something, Sir. + + _Ar._ Only my Horses, + Which after Supper let the Groom wait with: + I'le have no more attendance here. + + _Ser._ Your will, Sir. [_Exit._ + + _Enter_ Theodore. + + _Theo._ You are well met here, Sir. + + _Ar._ How now boy, + How dost thou? + + _The._ I should ask + You that question: how do you, Sir? + How do you feel your self? + + _Ar._ Why well, and lusty. + + _The._ What do you here then? + + _Ar._ Why I am sent for + To Supper with the Duke. + + _The._ Have you no meat at home? + Or do you long to feed as hunted Deer do, + In doubt and fear? + + _Ar._ I have an excellent stomach, + And can I use it better + Than among my friends, Boy? + How do the Wenches? + + _The._ They do well enough, Sir, + They know the worst by this time: pray be rul'd, Sir, + Go home again, and if ye have a Supper, + Eat it in quiet there: this is no place for ye, + Especially at this time, + Take my word for't. + + _Ar._ May be they'll drink hard; + I could have drunk my share, Boy. + Though I am old, I will not out. + + _The._ I hope you will. + Hark in your ear: the Court's + Too quick of hearing. + + _Ar._ Not mean me well? + Thou art abus'd and cozen'd. + Away, away. + + _The._ To that end Sir, I tell ye. + Away, if you love your self. + + _Ar._ Who dare do these things, + That ever heard of honesty? + + _The._ Old Gentleman, + Take a fools counsel. + + _Ar._ 'Tis a fools indeed; + A very fools: thou hast more of + These flams in thee, these musty doubts: + Is't fit the Duke send for me, + And honour me to eat within his presence, + And I, like a tale fellow, play at bo-peep + With his pleasure? + + _The._ Take heed + Of bo-peep with your pate, your pate, Sir, + I speak plain language now. + + _Ar._ If 'twere not here, + Where reverence bids me hold, + I would so swinge thee, thou rude, + Unmanner'd Knave; take from his bounty, + His honour that he gives me, to beget + Sawcy, and sullen fears? + + _The._ You are not mad sure: + By this fair light, I speak + But what is whisper'd, + And whisper'd for a truth. + + _Ar._ A Dog: drunken people, + That in their Pot see visions, + And turn states, mad-men and Children: + Prethee do not follow me; + I tell thee I am angry: + Do not follow me. + + _The._ I am as angry + As you for your heart, + I and as wilful too: go, like a Wood-cock, + And thrust your neck i'th' noose. + + _Ar._ I'le kill thee, + And thou speakst but three words more. + Do not follow me. [_Exit._ + + _The._ A strange old foolish fellow: I shall hear yet, + And if I do not my part, hiss at me. [_Exit._ + + +SCENE V. + + _Enter two Servants preparing a Banquet._ + + _1 Serv._ Believe me fellow here will be lusty drinking. + Many a washt pate in Wine I warrant thee. + + _2 Ser._ I am glad the old General's come: upon my Conscience + That joy will make half the Court drunk. Hark the Trumpets, + They are coming on; away. + + _1 Ser._ We'll have a rowse too. [_Exeunt._ + + _Enter Duke_, Archas, Burris, Boroskie, _Attend. Gent._ + + _Duke._ Come seat your selves: Lord _Archas_ sit you there. + + _Ar._ 'Tis far above my worth. + + _Duke._ I'le have it so: + Are all things ready? + + _Bor._ All the Guards are set, + The Court Gates are shut. + + _Duke._ Then do as I prescrib'd ye. + Be sure no further. + + _Bor._ I shall well observe ye. + + _Du._ Come bring some wine: here's to my Sister, Gentlemen; + A health, and mirth to all. + + _Ar._ Pray fill it full, Sir. + 'Tis a high health to vertue: here Lord _Burris_, + A maiden health: you are most fit to pledge it, + You have a maiden soul and much I honour it. + Passion o' me, ye are sad man. + + _Duke._ How now, _Burris_? + Go to, no more of this. + + _Ar._ Take the rowse freely, + 'Twill warm your bloud, and make ye fit for jollity. + Your Graces pardon: when we get a cup, Sir, + We old men prate a pace. + + _Du._ Mirth makes a Banquet; + As you love me no more. + + _Bur._ I thank your Grace. + Give me it; Lord _Boroskie_. + + _Boros._ I have ill brains, Sir. + + _Bur._ Damnable ill, I know it. + + _Boros._ But I'le pledge, Sir, + This vertuous health. + + _Bur._ The more unfit for thy mouth. + + _Enter two Servants with Cloaks._ + + _Du._ Come, bring out Robes, and let my guests look nobly, + Fit for my love and presence: begin downward. + Off with your Cloaks, take new. + + _Ar._ Your grace deals truly, + Like a munificent Prince, with your poor subjects, + Who would not fight for you? what cold dull coward + Durst seek to save his life when you would ask it? + Begin a new health in your new adornments, + The Dukes, the Royal Dukes: ha! what have I got + Sir? ha! the Robe of death? + + _Du._ You have deserv'd it. + + _Ar._ The Livery of the Grave? do you start all from me? + Do I smell of earth already? Sir, look on me, + And like a man; is this your entertainment? + Do you bid your worthiest guests to bloudy Banquets? + + _Enter a Guard._ + + A Guard upon me too? this is too foul play + Boy to thy good, thine honour: thou wretched Ruler, + Thou Son of fools and flatterers, Heir of hypocrites, + Am I serv'd in a Hearse that sav'd ye all? + Are ye men or Devils? Do ye gape upon me, + Wider, and swallow all my services? + Entomb them first, my faith next, then my integrity, + And let these struggle with your mangy minds, + Your sear'd, and seal'd up Consciences, till they burst. + + _Boros._ These words are death. + + _Ar._ No those deeds that want rewards, Sirrah, + Those Battels I have fought, those horrid dangers, + Leaner than death, and wilder than destruction, + I have march'd upon, these honour'd wounds, times story, + The bloud I have lost, the youth, the sorrows suffer'd, + These are my death, these that can ne're be recompenced, + These that ye sit a brooding on like Toads, + Sucking from my deserts the sweets and favours, + And render me no pay again but poysons. + + _Bor._ The proud vain Souldier thou hast set-- + + _Ar._ Thou lyest. + Now by my little time of life lyest basely, + Malitiously and loudly: how I scorn thee! + If I had swel'd the Souldier, or intended + An act in person, leaning to dishonour, + As ye would fain have forced me, witness Heaven, + Where clearest understanding of all truth is, + (For these are spightful men, and know no piety) + When _Olin_ came, grim _Olin_, when his marches, + His last Incursions made the City sweat, + And drove before him, as a storm drives Hail, + Such showrs of frosted fears, shook all your heart-strings; + Then when the _Volga_ trembled at his terrour, + And hid his seven curl'd heads, afraid of bruising, + By his arm'd Horses hoofs; had I been false then, + Or blown a treacherous fire into the Souldier, + Had but one spark of villany liv'd within me, + Ye'ad had some shadow for this black about me. + Where was your Souldiership? why went not you out? + And all your right honourable valour with ye? + Why met ye not the _Tartar_, and defi'd him? + Drew your dead-doing sword, and buckl'd with him? + Shot through his Squadrons like a fiery Meteor? + And as we see a dreadful clap of Thunder + Rend the stiffhearted Oaks, and toss their roots up: + Why did not you so charge him? you were sick then, + You that dare taint my credit slipt to bed then, + Stewing and fainting with the fears ye had, + A whorson shaking fit opprest your Lordship: + Blush Coward, Knave, and all the world hiss at thee. + + _Du._ Exceed not my command. [_Exit._ + + _Bor._ I shall observe it. + + _Ar._ Are you gone too? Come weep not honest _Burris_, + Good loving Lord, no more tears: 'tis not his malice, + This fellows malice, nor the Dukes displeasure, + By bold bad men crowded into his nature, + Can startle me: fortune ne're raz'd this Fort yet: + I am the same, the same man, living, dying; + The same mind to 'em both, I poize thus equal; + Only the jugling way that toll'd me to it, + The _Judas_ way, to kiss me, bid me welcome, + And cut my throat, a little sticks upon me. + Farewel, commend me to his Grace, and tell him, + The world is full of servants, he may have many: + And some I wish him honest: he's undone else: + But such another doating _Archas_ never, + So try'd and touch'd a faith: farewell for ever. + + _Bur._ Be strong my Lord: you must not go thus lightly. + + _Ar._ Now, what's to do? what sayes the Law unto me? + Give me my great offence that speaks me guil[t]y. + + _Bor._ Laying aside a thousand petty matters, + As scorns, and insolencies both from your self and followers, + Which you put first fire to, and these are deadly, + I come to one main cause, which though it carries + A strangeness in the circumstance, it carries death too, + Not to be pardon'd neither: ye have done a sacriledge. + + _Ar._ High Heaven defend me man: how, how _Boroskie_? + + _Bor._ Ye have took from the Temple those vow'd Arms, + The holy Ornament you hung up there, + No absolution of your vow, no order + From holy Church to give 'em back unto you + After they were purified from War, and rested + From bloud, made clean by ceremony: from the Altar + You snatch'd 'em up again, again ye wore 'em, + Again you stain'd 'em, stain'd your vow, the Church too, + And rob'd it of that right was none of yours, Sir, + For which the Law requires your head, ye know it. + + _Ar._ Those arms I fought in last? + + _Bor._ The same. + + _Ar._ God a mercy, + Thou hast hunted out a notable cause to kill me: + A subtle one: I dye, for saving all you; + Good Sir, remember if you can, the necessity, + The suddenness of time, the state all stood in; + I was entreated to, kneel'd to, and pray'd to, + The Duke himself, the Princes, all the Nobles, + The cries of Infants, Bed-rid Fathers, Virgins; + Prethee find out a better cause, a handsomer, + This will undo thee too: people will spit at thee, + The Devil himself would be asham'd of this cause; + Because my haste made me forget the ceremony, + The present danger every where, must my life satisfie? + + _Bor._ It must, and shall. + + _Ar._ O base ungrateful people, + Have ye no other Swords to cut my throat with + But mine own nobleness? I confess, I took 'em, + The vow not yet absolv'd I hung 'em up with: + Wore 'em, fought in 'em, gilded 'em again + In the fierce _Tartars_ blouds; for you I took 'em, + For your peculiar safety, Lord, for all, + I wore 'em for my Countries health, that groan'd then: + Took from the Temple, to preserve the Temple; + That holy place, and all the sacred monuments, + The reverent shrines of Saints, ador'd and honour'd, + Had been consum'd to ashes, their own sacrifice; + Had I been slack, or staid that absolution, + No Priest had liv'd to give it; my own honour, + Cure of my Country murder me? + + _Bor._ No, no Sir, + I shall force that from ye, will make this cause light too, + Away with him: I shall pluck down that heart, Sir. + + _Ar._ Break it thou mayest; but if it bend, for pity, + Doggs, and Kites eat it: come I am honours Martyr. [_Ex._ + + +SCENE VI. + + _Enter Duke, and_ Burris. + + _Du._ Exceed my Warrant? + + _Bur._ You know he loves him not. + + _Du._ He dares as well eat death, as do it, eat wild-fire, + Through a few fears I mean to try his goodness, + That I may find him fit, to wear here, _Burris_; + I know Boroskie hates him, to death hates him, + I know he's a Serpent too, a swoln one, [_Noise within._ + But I have pull'd his sting out: what noise is that? + + _The. within._ Down with 'em, down with 'em, down with the gates. + + _Sold. within._ Stand, stand, stand. + + _Puts. within._ Fire the Palace before ye. + + _Bur._ Upon my life the Souldier, Sir, the Souldier, + A miserable time is come. + + _Enter Gentleman._ + + _Gent._ Oh save him, + Upon my knees, my hearts knees, save Lord _Archas_, + We are undone else. + + _Du._ Dares he touch his Body? + + _Gent._ He racks him fearfully, most fearfully. + + _Du._ Away _Burris_, + Take men, and take him from him; clap him up, + And if I live, I'll find a strange death for him. [_Ex._ Bur. + Are the Souldiers broke in? + + _Gent._ By this time sure they are, Sir, + They beat the Gates extreamly, beat the people. + + _Du._ Get me a guard about me; make sure the lodgings, + And speak the Souldiers fair. + + _Gent._ Pray Heaven that take, Sir. [_Exeunt._ + + _Enter_ Putskie, _Ancient, Souldiers, with Torches_. + + _Puts._ Give us the General, we'll fire the Court else, + Render him safe and well. + + _Anc._ Do not fire the Cellar, + There's excellent Wine in't, Captain, and though it be cold weather, + I do not love it mull'd; bring out the General, + We'll light ye such a Bone-fire else: where are ye? + Speak, or we'll toss your Turrets, peep out of your Hives, + We'll smoak ye else: Is not that a Nose there? + Put out that Nose again, and if thou dar'st + But blow it before us: now he creeps out on's Burrough. + + _Enter Gentleman._ + + _Puts._ Give us the General. + + _Gent._ Yes, Gentlemen; + Or any thing ye can desire. + + _Anc._ You musk-cat, + Cordevant-skin we will not take your answer. + + _Puts._ Where is the Duke? speak suddenly, and send him hither. + + _Anc._ Or we'll so frye your Buttocks. + + _Gent._ Good sweet Gentlemen-- + + _Anc._ We are neither good nor sweet, we are Souldiers, + And you miscreants that abuse the General. + Give fire my Boys, 'tis a dark Evening, + Let's light 'em to their lodgings. + + _Enter_ Olympia, Honora, Viola, Theodore, _Women_. + + _Hon._ Good Brother be not fierce. + + _The._ I will not hurt her, + Fear not sweet Lady. + + _Olym._ Nay, do what you please, Sir, + I have a sorrow that exceeds all yours, + And more, contemns all danger. + + _Enter Duke, above._ + + _The._ Where is the Duke? + + _Du._ He's here; what would ye Souldiers? wherefore troop ye + Like mutinous mad-men thus? + + _The._ Give me my Father. + + _Puts. Anc._ Give us our General. + + _The._ Set him here before us, + Ye see the pledge we have got; ye see the Torches; + All shall to ashes, as I live, immediately, + A thousand lives for one. + + _Du._ But hear me? + + _Puts._ No, we come not to dispute. + + _Enter_ Archas, _and_ Burris. + + _The._ By Heaven I swear he's rackt and whipt. + + _Hon._ Oh my poor Father! + + _Puts._ Burn, kill and burn. + + _Arc._ Hold, hold, I say: hold Souldiers, + On your allegiance hold. + + _The._ We must not. + + _Arc._ Hold: + I swear by Heaven he is a barbarous Traitor stirs first, + A Villain, and a stranger to Obedience, + Never my Souldier more, nor Friend to Honour: + Why did you use your old Man thus? thus cruelly + Torture his poor weak Body? I ever lov'd ye. + + _Du._ Forget me in these wrongs, most noble _Archas_. + + _Arc._ I have balm enough for all my hurts: weep no more Sir + A satisfaction for a thousand sorrows; + I do believe you innocent, a good man, + And Heaven forgive that naughty thing that wrong'd me: + Why look ye wild, my friends? why stare ye on me? + I charge ye, as ye are men, my men, my lovers, + As ye are honest faithful men, fair Souldiers, + Let down your anger: Is not this our Soveraign? + The head of mercy, and of Law? who dares then, + But Rebels, scorning Law, appear thus violent? + Is this a place for Swords? for threatning fires? + The Reverence of this House dares any touch, + But with obedient knees, and pious duties? + Are we not all his Subjects? all sworn to him? + Has not he power to punish our offences? + And do we not daily fall into 'em? assure your selves + I did offend, and highly, grievously, + This good, sweet Prince I offended, my life forfeited, + Which yet his mercy and his old love met with, + And only let me feel his light rod this way: + Ye are to thank him for your General, + Pray for his life and fortune; swear your bloods for him. + Ye are offenders too, daily offenders, + Proud insolencies dwell in your hearts, and ye do 'em, + Do 'em against his Peace, his Law, his Person; + Ye see he only sorrows for your sins, + And where his power might persecute, forgives ye: + For shame put up your Swords, for honesty, + For orders sake, and whose ye are, my Souldiers, + Be not so rude. + + _The._ They have drawn blood from you, Sir. + + _Arc._ That was the blood rebell'd, the naughty blood, + The proud provoking blood; 'tis well 'tis out, Boy; + Give you example first; draw out, and orderly. + + _Hon._ Good Brother, do. + + _Arc._ Honest and high example, + As thou wilt have my Blessing follow thee, + Inherit all mine honours: thank ye _Theodore_, + My worthy Son. + + _The._ If harm come, thank your self, Sir, + I must obey ye. [_Exit._ + + _Arc._ Captain, you know the way now: + A good man, and a valiant, you were ever, + Inclin'd to honest things; I thank ye, Captain. [_Ex. Soul._ + Souldiers, I thank ye all: and love me still, + But do not love me so you lose Allegiance, + Love that above your lives: once more I thank ye. + + _Du._ Bring him to rest, and let our cares wait on him; + Thou excellent old man, thou top of honour, + Where Justice, and Obedience only build, + Thou stock of Vertue, how am I bound to love thee! + In all thy noble ways to follow thee! + + _Bur._ Remember him that vext him, Sir. + + _Du._ Remember? + When I forget that Villain, and to pay him + For all his mischiefs, may all good thoughts forget me. + + _Arc._ I am very sore. + + _Du._ Bring him to Bed with ease, Gentlemen, + For every stripe I'll drop a tear to wash 'em, + And in my sad Repentance-- + + _Arc._ 'Tis too much, + I have a life yet left to gain that love, Sir. [_Exeunt._ + + + + +_Actus Quintus. Scena Prima._ + + + _Enter Duke_, Burris, _and Gentlemen_. + + _Duke._ How does Lord _Archas_? + + _Bur._ But weak, and't please ye; + Yet all the helps that art can, are applied to him; + His heart's untoucht, and whole yet; and no doubt, Sir, + His mind being sound, his body soon will follow. + + _Du._ O that base Knave that wrong'd him, without leave too; + But I shall find an hour to give him thanks for't; + He's fast, I hope. + + _Bur._ As fast as irons can keep him: + But the most fearful Wretch-- + + _Du._ He has a Conscience, + A cruel stinging one I warrant him, + A loaden one: But what news of the Souldier? + I did not like their parting, 'twas too sullen. + + _Bur._ That they keep still, and I fear a worse clap; + They are drawn out of the Town, and stand in counsels, + Hatching unquiet thoughts, and cruel purposes: + I went my self unto 'em, talkt with the Captains, + Whom I found fraught with nothing but loud murmurs, + And desperate curses, sounding these words often + Like Trumpets to their angers: we are ruin'd, + Our services turn'd to disgraces, mischiefs; + Our brave old General, like one had pilfer'd, + Tortur'd, and whipt: the Colonels eyes, like torches, + Blaze every where and fright fair peace. + + _Gent._ Yet worse, Sir; + The news is currant now, they mean to leave ye, + Leave their Allegiance; and under _Olins_ Charge + The bloody Enemy march straight against ye. + + _Bur._ I have heard this too, Sir. + + _Du._ This must be prevented, + And suddenly, and warily. + + _Bur._ 'Tis time, Sir, + But what to minister, or how? + + _Du._ Go in with me, + And there we'll think upon't: such blows as these, + Equal defences ask, else they displease. [_Exeunt._ + + +SCENE II. + + _Enter_ Petesca, _and Gentlewoman_. + + _Pet._ Lord, what a coil has here been with these Souldiers! + They are cruel fellows. + + _Wom._ And yet methought we found 'em + Handsome enough; I'll tell thee true, _Petesca_, + I lookt for other manner of dealings from 'em, + And had prepar'd my self; but where's my Lady? + + _Pet._ In her old dumps within: monstrous melancholy; + Sure she was mad of this Wench. + + _Wom._ And she had been a man, + She would have been a great deal madder, I am glad she is shifted. + + _Pet._ 'Twas a wicked thing for me to betray her, + And yet I must confess she stood in our lights. + + _Enter_ Alinda. + + What young thing's this? + + _Alin._ Good morrow beauteous Gentlewomen: + 'Pray ye is the Princess stirring yet? + + _Wom._ He has her face. + + _Pet._ Her very tongue, and tone too: her youth upon him. + + _Alin._ I guess ye to be the Princess Women. + + _Pet._ Yes, we are, Sir. + + _Alin._ Pray is there not a Gentlewoman waiting on her Grace, + Ye call _Alinda_? + + _Pet._ The Devil sure in her shape. + + _Wom._ I have heard her tell my Lady of a Brother, + An only Brother that she had: in travel-- + + _Pet._ 'Mass, I remember that: this may be he too: + I would this thing would serve her. + + _Enter_ Olympia. + + _Wom._ So would I Wench, + We should love him better sure: Sir, here's the Princess, + She best can satisfie ye. + + _Alin._ How I love that presence! + O blessed Eyes, how nobly shine your comforts! + + _Olym._ What Gentleman is that? + + _Wom._ We know not, Madam: + He ask'd us for your Grace: and as we guess it, + He is _Alinda_'s Brother. + + _Olym._ Ha! let me mark him: + My grief has almost blinded me: her Brother? + By _Venus_, he has all her sweetness upon him: + Two silver drops of dew were never liker. + + _Alin._ Gracious Lady-- + + _Olym._ That pleasant pipe he has too. + + _Alin._ Being my happiness to pass by this way, + And having as I understand by Letters, + A Sister in your vertuous service, Madam-- + + _Olym._ O now my heart, my heart akes. + + _Alin._ All the comfort + My poor youth has, all that my hopes have built me, + I thought it my first duty, my best service, + Here to arrive first, humbly to thank your Grace + For my poor Sister, humbly to thank your Nobleness, + That bounteous Goodness in ye. + + _Olym._ 'Tis he certainly. + + _Alin._ That spring of favour to her; with my life, Madam, + If any such most happy means might meet me, + To shew my thankfulness. + + _Olym._ What have I done, Fool! + + _Alin._ She came a stranger to your Grace, no Courtier; + Nor of that curious breed befits your service, + Yet one I dare assure my Soul, that lov'd ye + Before she saw ye; doted on your Vertues; + Before she knew those fair eyes, long'd to read 'em, + You only had her prayers, you her wishes; + And that one hope to be yours once, preserv'd her. + + _Olym._ I have done wickedly. + + _Alin._ A little Beauty, + Such as a Cottage breeds, she brought along with her; + And yet our Country-eyes esteem'd it much too: + But for her beauteous mind, forget great Lady, + I am her Brother, and let me speak a stranger, + Since she was able to beget a thought, 'twas honest. + The daily study how to fit your services, + Truly to tread that vertuous path you walk in, + So fir'd her honest Soul, we thought her Sainted; + I presume she is still the same: I would fain see her, + For Madam, 'tis no little love I owe her. + + _Olym._ Sir, such a maid there was, I had-- + + _Alin._ There was, Madam? + + _Olym._ O my poor Wench: eyes, I will ever curse ye + For your Credulity, _Alinda_. + + _Alin._ That's her name, Madam. + + _Olym._ Give me a little leave, Sir, to lament her. + + _Alin._ Is she dead, Lady? + + _Olym._ Dead, Sir, to my service. + She is gone, pray ye ask no further. + + _Alin._ I obey Madam: + Gone? now must I lament too: said ye gone Madam? + + _Olym._ Gone, gone for ever. + + _Alin._ That's a cruel saying: + Her honour too? + + _Olym._ Prithee look angry on me, + And if thou ever lovedst her, spit upon me; + Do something like a Brother, like a friend, + And do not only say thou lov'st her-- + + _Al._ Ye amaze me. + + _Oly._ I ruin'd her, I wrong'd her, I abus'd her; + Poor innocent soul, I flung her; sweet _Alinda_, + Thou vertuous maid, my soul now calls thee vertuous. + Why do ye not rail now at me? + + _Al._ For what Lady? + + _Oly._ Call me base treacherous woman. + + _Al._ Heaven defend me. + + _Oly._ Rashly I thought her false, and put her from me, + Rashly, and madly I betrai'd her modesty, + Put her to wander, heaven knows where: nay, more Sir, + Stuck a black brand upon her. + + _Al._ 'Twas not well Lady. + + _Oly._ 'Twas damnable: she loving me so dearly, + Never poor wench lov'd so: Sir believe me, + 'Twas the most dutious wench, the best companion, + When I was pleas'd, the happiest, and the gladdest, + The modestest sweet nature dwelt within her: + I saw all this, I knew all this, I lov'd it, + I doated on it too, and yet I kill'd it: + O what have I forsaken? what have I lost? + + _Al._ Madam, I'le take my leave, since she is wandring, + 'Tis fit I know no rest. + + _Oly._ Will you go too Sir? + I have not wrong'd you yet, if you dare trust me, + For yet I love _Alinda_ there, I honour her, + I love to look upon those eyes that speak her, + To read that face again, (modesty keep me,) + _Alinda_, in that shape: but why should you trust me, + 'Twas I betray'd your Sister, I undid her; + And believe me, gentle youth, 'tis I weep for her: + Appoint what penance you please: but stay then, + And see me perform it: ask what honour this place + Is able to heap on ye, or what wealth: + If following me will like ye, my care of ye, + Which for your sisters sake, for your own goodness-- + + _Al._ Not all the honour earth has, now she's gone Lady, + Not all the favour; yet if I sought preferment, + Under your bounteous Grace I would only take it. + Peace rest upon ye: one sad tear every day + For poor _Alindas_. sake, 'tis fit ye pay. [_Exit._ + + _Oly._ A thousand noble youth, and when I sleep, + Even in my silver slumbers still I'le weep. [_Exit._ + + +SCENA III. + + _Enter_ Duke, _and Gentlemen_. + + _Duke._ Have ye been with 'em? + + _Gent._ Yes, and't please your Grace, + But no perswasion serves 'em, nor no promise, + They are fearfull angry, and by this time Sir, + Upon their march to the Enemy. + + _Du._ They must be stopt. + + _Enter_ Burris. + + _Gent._ I, but what force is able? and what leader-- + + _Du._ How now, have you been with _Archas_? + + _Bur._ Yes, and't please ye, + And told him all: he frets like a chaf'd Lyon, + And calls for his Arms: and all those honest Courtiers + That dare draw Swords. + + _Du._ Is he able to do any thing? + + _Bur._ His mind is well enough; and where his charge is, + Let him be ne're so sore, 'tis a full Army. + + _Du._ Who commands the Rebels? + + _Bur._ The young Colonel, + That makes the old man almost mad: he swears Sir, + He will not spare his Sons head for the Dukedom. + + _Du._ Is the Court in Arms? + + _Bur._ As fast as they can bustle, + Every man mad to goe now: inspir'd strangely, + As if they were to force the Enemy, + I beseech your Grace to give me leave. + + _Du._ Pray go Sir, + And look to the old man well; take up all fairly, + And let no bloud be spilt; take general pardons, + And quench this fury with fair peace. + + _Bur._ I shall Sir, + Or seal it with my service; they are villains: + The Court is up: good Sir, go strengthen 'em, + Your Royal sight will make 'em scorn all dangers; + The General needs no proof. + + _Duke._ Come let's go view 'em. [_Exeunt._ + + +SCENA IV. + + _Enter_ Theodore, Putskie, _Ancient_, _Souldiers_, _Drums_, + _and Colours_. + + _The._ 'Tis known we are up, and marching: no submission, + No promise of base peace can cure our maladies, + We have suffer'd beyond all repair of honour: + Your valiant old man's whipt; whipt Gentlemen, + Whipt like a slave: that flesh that never trembled, + Nor shrunk one sinew at a thousand charges, + That noble body rib'd in arms, the Enemy + So often shook at, and then shun'd like thunder, + That body's torn with lashes. + + _Anc._ Let's turn head. + + _Put._ Turn nothing Gentlemen, let's march on fairly, + Unless they charge us. + + _The._ Think still of his abuses, + And keep your angers. + + _Anc._ He was whipt like a top, + I never saw a whore so lac'd: Court school-butter? + Is this their diet? I'le dress 'em one running banquet: + What Oracle can alter us? did not we see him? + See him we lov'd? + + _The._ And though we did obey him, + Forc'd by his reverence for that time; is't fit Gentlemen? + My noble friends, is't fit we men, and Souldiers, + Live to endure this, and look on too? + + _Put._ Forward: + They may call back the Sun as soon, stay time, + Prescribe a Law to death, as we endure this. + + _The._ They will make ye all fair promises. + + _Anc._ We care not. + + _The._ Use all their arts upon ye. + + _Anc._ Hang all their arts. + + _Put._ And happily they'l bring him with 'em. + + _Anc._ March apace then, + He is old and cannot overtake us. + + _Put._ Say he doe. + + _Anc._ We'l run away with him: they shall never see him more: + The truth is, we'l hear nothing, stop at nothing, + Consider nothing but our way; believe nothing, + Not though they say their prayers: be content with nothing, + But the knocking out their brains: and last, do nothing + But ban 'em and curse 'em, till we come to kill 'em. + + _The._ Remove then forwards bravely; keep your minds whole, + And the next time we face 'em, shall be fatal. [_Exeunt._ + + +SCENA V. + + _Enter_ Archas, _Duke,_ Burris, _Gent_, _and Sould_. + + _Ar._ Peace to your Grace; take rest Sir, they are before us. + + _Gent._ They are Sir, and upon the march. [_Exit_ Duke. + + _Ar._ Lord _Burris_, + Take you those horse and coast 'em: upon the first advantage, + If they will not slake their march, charge 'em up roundly, + By that time I'le come in. + + _Bur._ I'le do it truly. [_Exit._ + + _Gent._ How do you feel your self Sir? + + _Ar._ Well, I thank ye; + A little weak, but anger shall supply that; + You will all stand bravely to it? + + _All._ Whilst we have lives Sir. + + _Ar._ Ye speak like Gentlemen; I'le make the knaves know, + The proudest, and the strongest hearted Rebel, + They have a law to live in, and they shall have; + Beat up a pace, by this time he is upon 'em, [_Drum within._ + And sword, but hold me now, thou shalt play ever. [_Exeunt._ + + _Enter Drums beating_, Theodore, Putskie, _Ancient_, + _and their Souldiers._ + + _The._ Stand, stand, stand close, and sure; + + _Enter_ Burris, _and 1 or 2 Souldiers_. + + The horse will charge us. + + _Anc._ Let 'em come on, we have provender fit for 'em. + + _Put._ Here comes Lord _Burris_ Sir, I think to parly. + + _The._ You are welcom noble Sir, I hope to our part. + + _Bur._ No, valiant Colonel, I am come to chide ye, + To pity ye; to kill ye, if these fail me; + Fie, what dishonour seek ye! what black infamy! + Why do ye draw out thus? draw all shame with ye? + Are these fit cares in subjects? I command ye + Lay down your arms again, move in that peace, + That fair obedience you were bred in. + + _Put._ Charge us: + We come not here to argue. + + _The._ Charge up bravely, + And hotly too, we have hot spleens to meet ye, + Hot as the shames are offer'd us. + + _Enter_ Archas, _Gent. and Souldiers_. + + _Bur._ Look behind ye. + Do you see that old man? do you know him Souldiers? + + _Put._ Your Father Sir, believe me-- + + _Bur._ You know his marches, + You have seen his executions: is it yet peace? + + _The._ We'l dye here first. + + _Bur._ Farewel: you'l hear on's presently. + + _Ar._ Stay _Burris_: this is too poor, too beggerly a body + To bear the honour of a charge from me, + A sort of tatter'd Rebels; go provide Gallowses; + Ye are troubled with hot heads, I'le cool ye presently: + These look like men that were my Souldiers + Now I behold 'em nearly, and more narrowly, + My honest friends: where got they these fair figures? + Where did they steal these shapes? + + _Bur._ They are struck already. + + _Ar._ Do you see that fellow there, that goodly Rebel? + He looks as like a Captain I lov'd tenderly: + A fellow of a faith indeed. + + _Bur._ He has sham'd him. + + _Ar._ And that that bears the Colours there, most certain + So like an Ancient of mine own, a brave fellow, + A loving and obedient, that believe me _Burris_, + I am amaz'd and troubled: and were it not + I know the general goodness of my people, + The duty, and the truth, the stedfast honestie, + And am assur'd they would as soon turn Devils + As rebels to allegeance, for mine honour. + + _Bur._ Here needs no wars. + + _Put._ I pray forgive us Sir. + + _Anc._ Good General forgive us, or use your sword, + Your words are double death. + + _All._ Good noble General. + + _Bur._ Pray Sir be mercifull. + + _Ar._ Weep out your shames first, + Ye make me fool for companie: fie Souldiers, + My Souldiers too, and play these tricks? what's he there? + Sure I have seen his face too; yes, most certain + I have a son, but I hope he is not here now, + 'Would much resemble this man, wondrous near him, + Just of his height and making too, you seem a Leader. + + _The._ Good Sir, do not shame me more: I know your anger, + And less than death I look not for. + + _Ar._ You shall be my charge Sir, it seems you want foes, + When you would make your friends your Enemies. + A running bloud ye have, but I shall cure ye. + + _Bur._ Good Sir-- + + _An._ No more good Lord: beat forward Souldiers: + And you, march in the rear, you have lost your places. [_Exeunt._ + + +SCENA VI. + + _Enter Duke_, Olympia, Honora, Viola. + + _Du._ You shall not be thus sullen still with me Sister, + You do the most unnobly to be angry, + For as I have a soul, I never touch'd her, + I never yet knew one unchast thought in her: + I must confess, I lov'd her: as who would not? + I must confess I doated on her strangely, + I offer'd all, yet so strong was her honour, + So fortifi'd as fair, no hope could reach her, + And whilst the world beheld this, and confirm'd it, + Why would you be so jealous? + + _Oly._ Good Sir pardon me, + I feel sufficiently my follies penance, + And am asham'd, that shame a thousand sorrows + Feed on continually, would I had never seen her, + Or with a clearer judgement look'd upon her, + She was too good for me, so heavenly good Sir, + Nothing but Heaven can love that soul sufficiently, + Where I shall see her once again. + + _Enter_ Burris. + + _Du._ No more tears, + If she be within the Dukedom, we'l recover her: + Welcom Lord _Burris_, fair news I hope. + + _Bur._ Most fair Sir, + Without one drop of bloud these wars are ended, + The Souldier cool'd again, indeed asham'd Sir, + And all his anger ended. + + _Du._ Where's Lord _Archas_? + + _Bur._ Not far off Sir: with him his valiant son, + Head of this fire, but now a prisoner, + And if by your sweet mercy not prevented, + I fear some fatal stroke. [_Drums._ + + _Enter_ Archas, Theodore, _Gentlemen_, _Souldiers_. + + _Du._ I hear the Drums beat, + Welcom, my worthy friend. + + _Ar._ Stand where ye are Sir, + Even as you love your country, move not forward, + Nor plead for peace till I have done a justice, + A justice on this villain; none of mine now, + A justice on this Rebel. + + _Hon._ O my Brother. + + _Ar._ This fatal firebrand-- + + _Du._ Forget not old man, + He is thy son, of thine own bloud. + + _Ar._ In these veins + No treacherie e're harbour'd yet, no mutinie, + I ne're gave life to lewd and headstrong Rebels. + + _Du._ 'Tis his first fault. + + _Ar._ Not of a thousand Sir, + Or were it so, it is a fault so mightie, + So strong against the nature of all mercy, + His Mother were she living, would not weep for him, + He dare not say he would live. + + _The._ I must not Sir, + Whilst you say 'tis not fit: your Graces mercy + Not to my life appli'd, but to my fault Sir, + The worlds forgiveness next, last, on my knees Sir, + I humbly beg, + Do not take from me yet the name of Father, + Strike me a thousand blows, but let me dye yours. + + _Ar._ He moves my heart: I must be suddain with him, + I shall grow faint else in my execution; + Come, come Sir, you have seen death; now meet him bravely. + + _Du._ Hold, hold I say, a little hold, consider + Thou hast no more sons _Archas_ to inherit thee. + + _Ar._ Yes Sir, I have another, and a nobler: + No treason shall inherit me: young _Archas_ + A boy, as sweet as young, my Brother breeds him, + My noble Brother _Briskie_ breeds him nobly, + Him let your favour find: give him your honour. + + _Enter_ Putskie (_alias_ Briskie) _and_ Alinda, + (_alias_ Archas.) + + _Pu._ Thou hast no child left _Archas_, none to inherit thee + If thou strikst that stroke now: behold young _Archas_; + Behold thy Brother here, thou bloudy Brother, + As bloody to this sacrifice as thou art: + Heave up thy sword, and mine's heav'd up: strike _Archas_, + And I'le strike too as suddenly, as deadly: + Have mercy, and I'le have mercy: the Duke gives it. + Look upon all these, how they weep it from thee, + Choose quickly, and begin. + + _Du._ On your obedience, + On your allegeance save him. + + _Ar._ Take him to ye, [_Soul. shout._ + And sirrah, be an honest man, ye have reason: + I thank ye worthy Brother: welcom child, + Mine own sweet child. + + _Du._ Why was this boy conceal'd thus? + + _Put._ Your graces pardon: + Fearing the vow you made against my Brother, + And that your anger would not only light + On him, but find out all his familie, + This young boy, to preserve from after danger, + Like a young wench, hither I brought; my self + In the habit of an ordinarie Captain + Disguis'd, got entertainment, and serv'd here + That I might still be ready to all fortunes: + That boy your Grace took, nobly entertain'd him, + But thought a Girle, _Alinda_, Madam. + + _Ol._ Stand away, + And let me look upon him. + + _Du._ My young Mistris? + This is a strange metamorphosis, _Alinda_? + + _Al._ Your graces humble servant. + + _Du._ Come hither Sister: + I dare yet scarce believe mine eyes: how they view one another? + Dost thou not love this boy well? + + _Oly._ I should lye else, + Trust me, extreamly lye Sir. + + _Du._ Didst thou never wish _Olympia_, + It might be thus? + + _Oly._ A thousand times. + + _Du._ Here take him: + Nay, do not blush: I do not jest; kiss sweetly: + Boy, ye kiss faintly boy; Heaven give ye comfort; + Teach him, he'l quickly learn: there's two hearts eas'd now. + + _Ar._ You do me too much honour Sir. + + _Du._ No _Archas_, + But all I can, I will; can you love me? speak truly. + + _Hon._ Yes Sir, dearly. + + _Du._ Come hither _Viola_, can you love this man? + + _Vio._ I'le do the best I can Sir. + + _Du._ Seal it _Burris_, + We'l all to Church together instantly: + And then a vie for boyes; stay, bring _Boroskie_. + + _Enter_ Boroskie. + + I had almost forgot that lump of mischief. + There _Archas_, take the enemie to honour, + The knave to worth: do with him what thou wilt. + + _Ar._ Then to my sword again; you to your prayers; + Wash off your villanies, you feel the burthen. + + _Bor._ Forgive me e're I die, most honest _Archas_; + 'Tis too much honour that I perish thus; + O strike my faults to kill them, that no memorie, + No black and blasted infamy hereafter---- + + _Ar._ Come, are ye ready? + + _Bor._ Yes. + + _Ar._ And truly penitent, to make your way straight? + + _Bor._ Thus I wash off my sins. + + _Ar._ Stand up, and live then, + And live an honest man; I scorn mens ruines: + Take him again, Sir, trie him: and believe + This thing will be a perfect man. + + _Du._ I take him. + + _Bor._ And when I fail those hopes, heavens hopes fail me. + + _Du._ You are old: no more wars Father: + _Theodore_ take you the charge, be General. + + _The._ All good bless ye. + + _Du._ And my good Father, you dwell in my bosom, + From you rise all my good thoughts: when I would think + And examine time for one that's fairly noble, + And the same man through all the streights of vertue, + Upon this Silver book I'le look, and read him. + Now forward merrily to _Hymens_ rites, + To joyes, and revels, sports, and he that can + Most honour _Archas_, is the noblest man. [_Exeunt._ + + + + +Prologue. + + + _We need not noble Gentlemen to invite + Attention, preinstruct you who did write + This worthy Story, being confident + The mirth join'd with grave matter, and Intent + To yield the hearers profit, with delight, + Will speak the maker: and to do him right, + Would ask a Genius like to his; the age + Mourning his loss, and our now widdowed stage + In vain lamenting. I could adde, so far + Behind him the most modern writers are, + That when they would commend him, their best praise + Ruins the buildings which they strive to raise + To his best memory, so much a friend + Presumes to write, secure 'twill not offend + The living that are modest, with the rest + That may repine he cares not to contest. + This debt to_ Fletcher _paid; it is profest + By us the Actors, we will do our best + To send such favouring friends, as hither come + To grace the Scene, pleas'd, and contented home._ + + + + +Epilogue. + + _Though something well assur'd, few here repent + Three hours of pretious time, or money spent + On our endeavours, Yet not to relye + Too much upon our care, and industrie, + 'Tis fit we should ask, but a modest way + How you approve our action in the play. + If you vouchsafe to crown it with applause, + It is your bountie, and you give us cause + Hereafter with a general consent + To study, as becomes us, your content._ + + + * * * * * + + + p. #47#, l. 9. _Adds_ Finis Actus Tertii. + l. 11. Servant and R. Bax, and. + l. 12. A stirs a stirs. + l. 26. barkes. + + p. #48#, l. 34. and whom. + + p. #49#, l. 26. his fierce. + l. 29. roome then. + l. 30. and old. + l. 33. your rare. + l. 37. her Ladies. + + p. #50#, l. 12. I must. + + p. #51#, l. 2. has. + l. 7. 2nd folio _misprints_] Philax. + + p. #52#, l. 1. _Adds as follows_] + + _Clo._ Why that ye wo't of, + + _Chi._ The turne the good turne? + + _Clo._ Any turne the Roche turne; + + _Chi._ That's the right turne for that turnes up the + bellie, I cannot, _etc._ + + l. 17. as brickle. + l. 20. That think no. + + p. #55#, l. 7. ath'. + l. 8. ath' the. + l. 17. weaker. + l. 29. a that. + l. 38. a will. + + p. #56#, l. 26. 2nd folio _misprints_] ne's. + l. 29. A comes. + l. 35. stand up my. + + p. #57#, l. 14. rogue. + l. 21. art ta? + l. 23. art ta? + l. 32. thou art a. + l. 39. doe ye. + + p. #58#, l. 18. Lyons. + l. 26. _Adds_ Finis Actus Quarti. + l. 28. Priest. + l. 30. a your. + + p. #60#, l. 9. cure this. + l. 10. He's man. + l. 12. is now. + l. 16. Oracle, Arras. + + p. #61#, l. 36. therefore, thy. + + p. #62#, l. 3. Therefore be. + l. 9. I shall. + l. 19. a had. + l. 36. 2nd folio] ha'! + + p. #63#, l. 6. A will. + l. 14. makes he. + l. 28. Battell. + + p. #64#, l. 2. _Omits_ and. + l. 7. in boyes in boyes. + l. 38. 2nd folio _misprints_] Cle. + + p. #65#, l. 17. _Omits_ her. + + p. #67#, l. 10. 2nd folio _omits_] Chi. (_char._). + l. 10. Chickens. + l. 24. weepes. + l. 26. A was. + l. 27. Ye have. + + p. #69#, l. 8. and like. + l. 33. Cleanthe, Curtisan, Lords. + + p. #70#, l. 6. my glorious. + l. 34. a sight. + l. 36. ye could. _Adds as next line_] + Roome before there. _Knock._ + + p. #71#, l. 8. _Prints_ To the, etc., _as a separate line and as + a heading_. + l. 9. _For_ Eum. _reads_ 1. Cap. + + p. #73#, l. 15. lov'st her. + l. 31. 2nd folio] Sister! + + p. #75#, l. 13. the Saylors sing. + l. 28. utters. + l. 32. _Adds_ Finis. + + +THE LOYAL SUBJECT. + + p. #76#, ll. 3-40. Not in 1st folio. + + p. #78#, l. 14. Archus. + l. 15. souldier. + l. 23. Archus. + l. 37. now you. + + p. #79#, l. 4. 2nd folio _misprints_] Pet. + + p. #80#, l. 24. eyes. + + p. #82#, l. 4. But to. + l. 31. 2nd folio _misprints_] Augel. + + p. #84#, l. 35. 2nd folio _misprints_] Gentlenem. + + p. #86#, l. 2. pray ye be. + l. 38. thanke high heaven. + + p. #87#, l. 1. 2nd folio] in'? + l. 30. _Omits_ Exit. + + p. #90#, l. 4. a pieces. + l. 30. beseech yee. + + p. #91#, l. 6. marvelous fine. + + p. #92#, l. 8. too late to. + l. 10. tremble. + l. 30. _Adds_ Exeunt. + + p. #94#, l. 14. Of every. + + p. #96#, l. 18. 2nd folio _misprints_] may. + l. 34. and 'has. + l. 38. And noise. + + p. #97#, l. 23. who, for. + l. 25. And shewrd. + + p. #103#, l. 35. 2nd folio _misprints_] Lorship. + + p. #106#, l. 16. 2nd folio] feed then. + + p. #107#, l. 18. it fits so. + + p. #112#, l. 8. fishmarket. + l. 28. paintings. + l. 32. 2nd folio _misprints_] Aac. + + p. #113#, l. 30. 'has. + l. 34. blame ye. + + p. #114#, l. 34. 'Has. + + p. #115#, l. 3. ye see. + l. 28. me Armes. + l. 38. None, none my Lord. + + p. #116#, l. 1. Thanke ye. + l. 18. me too far. + l. 31. he is. + + p. #117#, l. 21. content like harmles. + + p. #118#, l. 17. the fashion to. + + p. #119#, l. 21. ungrased. + l. 38. 2nd folio _misprints_] Is. + + p. #120#, l. 34. art not mad. + + p. #123#, l. 37. serv'd yee. + + p. #124#, l. 11. _Omits_ do. + l. 15. women. + l. 21. thinke ye. + + p. #125#, l. 1. it; 'sod if. + l. 24. Wickedly. + + p. #127#, l. 16. yeare. + + p. #128#, l. 9. _Reads stage direction_] Exit. + + p. #130#, l. 6. 2nd folio _misprints_] Bur. + l. 10. _Omits_ please. + + p. #134#, l. 31. hast ruine. + + p. #136#, l. 31. _The catchword at the foot of the page in the + 1st folio is_ And. + + p. #138#, l. 37. 2nd folio] Broms. + + p. #139#, l. 1. no trade. + l. 7. 2nd folio] traeds. + + p. #140#, l. 27. of your. + + p. #141#, l. 37. thats that. + l. 39. 2nd folio _misprints_] Hoa. + + p. #142#, l. 30. 2nd folio _misprints_] Dou. + + p. #146#, l. 18. tal. + + p. #147#, l. 22. _Omits_ are. + + p. #148#, l. 36. till ye. + + p. #149#, l. 40. _Adds_ Exit. + + p. #150#, l. 8. that told. + l. 18. 2nd folio _misprints_] guily. + + p. #151#, l. 13. Sword. + l. 31. and Kits. + l. 36. well meet. + + p. #153#, l. 15. 'May do. + l. 25. see these. + + p. #154#, l. 9. beleeve ye. + l. 22. not we. + + p. #155#, l. 31. Archas yet? + + p. #157#, l. 10. Pray you. + l. 27. shines. + + p. #162#, l. 29. not slacke. + + p. #167#, l. 22. The boy. + + p. #168#, l. 38. Hymens rights. + + p. #169#, l. 34. _Adds_ Finis. + + +RULE A WIFE, AND HAVE A WIFE. + +The Dramatis Personæ are not given in the quarto of 1640 nor in the 2nd +folio. They are as follows:--Duke of Medina. Juan de Castro, Sanchio, +Alonzo, Michael Perez, Officers. Leon, Altea's brother. Cacafogo, a +userer. Lorenzo. Coachman, etc. Margarita. Altea. Estifania. Clara. +Three old ladies. Old woman. Maids, etc. + +Unless where otherwise stated the following variations are from the +quarto of 1640, the title-page of which runs thus:-- + + Rule a Wife | And have a Wife. | A comoedy. | Acted by his | Majesties + Servants. | Written by | John Fletcher | Gent. | Oxford, | Printed by + Leonard Lichfield | Printer to the University. | Anno 1640. + + p. #170#, l. 30. mouth. + + p. #171#, l. 14. most sublest. + l. 18. With yee. + l. 19. them. + l. 38. _and often elsewhere_] um _for_ 'em. + + p. #172#, l. 2. the picke. + + p. #173#, l. 22. thank ye. + + p. #175#, l. 1. Yes I. + l. 29. Exit. + l. 31. mine ayme. + + p. #176#, l. 30. 2nd folio _prints_] calling. | And + + p. #178#, l. 10. a starv'd. + l. 22. look'st. + l. 24. 2nd folio _misprints_] hear. + + p. #179#, l. 33. Or any. + + p. #182#, ll. 6, etc. Quarto _frequently prints_ 4. _for_ Altea _here + and in similar places_. + l. 33. doubty. + + p. #183#, l. 2. Has not. + l. 3. 2nd folio _misprints_] hin. + l. 5. Has no. + l. 38. 2nd folio _misprints_] compaines. + + p. #184#, l. 13. a house. + + p. #185#, l. 2. Altea, the Ladies. + l. 4. has been. + + p. #187#, l. 26. I finde. + + p. #189#, l. 28. enter'd here. + l. 39. salute him. + + p. #190#, l. 25. if she. + + p. #194#, ll. 8 and 11. _Omits_ Lady _here and often similarly + elsewhere_. + + p. #196#, l. 26. Exit. + + p. #197#, l. 20. basinesse. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Beaumont & Fletcher's Works (3 of 10): +The Loyal Subject, by Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BEAUMONT & FLETCHER'S WORKS *** + +***** This file should be named 39249-8.txt or 39249-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/9/2/4/39249/ + +Produced by Jonathan Ingram and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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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/license + + +Title: Beaumont & Fletcher's Works (3 of 10): The Loyal Subject + +Author: Francis Beaumont + John Fletcher + +Release Date: March 24, 2012 [EBook #39249] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BEAUMONT & FLETCHER'S WORKS *** + + + + +Produced by Jonathan Ingram and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span></p> + + +<h1> +<small>THE</small><br /> +<big>LOYAL SUBJECT,</big><br /> +<a name="p76_l3" id="p76_l3"></a><small>A</small><br /> +<big>TRAGI-COMEDY.</big><br /> +</h1> + +<p> </p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<h3>Persons Represented in the Play.</h3> + +<p> +<i>Great</i> Duke <i>of</i> Moscovia.<br /> + +Archas, <i>the Loyal Subject, General of +the</i> Moscovites.<br /> + +Theodore, <i>Son to</i> Archas; <i>valorous, +but impatient</i>.<br /> + +Putskie <i>alias</i> Briskie, <i>a Captain, +Brother to</i> Archas.<br /> + +Alinda <i>alias</i> Archas, <i>Son to</i> Archas.<br /> + +Burris, <i>an honest Lord, the Dukes +Favourite</i>.<br /> + +Boroskie, <i>a malicious seducing Councellor +to the Duke</i>.<br /> + +<i>Ensign to</i> Archas, <i>a stout merry +Souldier</i>.<br /> + +<i>Souldiers.</i><br /> + +<i>Gentlemen.</i><br /> + +<i>Guard.</i><br /> + +<i>Servants.</i> +</p> + +<h4><i>WOMEN.</i></h4> +<p> +Olympia, <i>Sister to the Duke</i>.<br /> + +Honora, <span class="rbrace"><span class="ft20">}</span> <i>Daughters of</i> Archas.</span><br /> +Viola, <br /> + +Potesca, <span class="rbrace"><span class="ft20">}</span> <i>Servants to</i> Olympia.</span><br /> +Ladies, <br /> + +<i>Bawd, a Court Lady.</i><br /> +</p> +</div> + + +<h3><i>The Scene</i> Mosco.</h3> + +<h4>The principal Actors were,</h4> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr> +<td align='left'> +<i>Richard Burbadge.</i><br /> +<i>Henry Condel.</i><br /> +<i>John Lowin.</i><br /> +<i>Richard Sharpe.</i> +</td> +<td class="bbr"> </td> +<td> </td> +<td class="bbl"> </td> +<td align='left'> +<i>Nathanael Feild.</i><br /> +<i>John Underwood.</i><br /> +<i>Nicholas Toolie.</i><br /> +<i>William Eglestone.</i> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + + + +<hr style="width: 15%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span></p> +<h3><i>Actus primus. Scena prima.</i></h3> + + +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> Theodor <i>and</i> Putskie.</p> + +<p> +<i>The.</i> Captain, your friend's prefer'd, the Princess has her,<br /> +Who, I assure my self, will use her nobly;<br /> +A pretty sweet one 'tis indeed.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Put.</i> Well bred, Sir,<br /> +I do deliver that upon my credit,<br /> +And of an honest stock.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> It seems so, Captain,<br /> +And no doubt will do well.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Put.</i> Thanks to your care, Sir;<br /> +But tell me Noble Colonel, why this habit<br /> +Of discontent is put on through the Army?<br /> +And why your valiant Father, our great General,<br /> +The hand that taught to strike, the Love that led all;<br /> +Why he, that was the Father of the War,<br /> +He that begot, and bred the Souldier,<br /> +Why he sits shaking of his Arms, like Autumn,<br /> +His Colours folded, and his Drums cas'd up,<br /> +The tongue of War for ever ty'd within us?<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> It must be so: Captain you are a stranger,<br /> +But of a small time here a Souldier,<br /> +Yet that time shews ye a right good, and great one,<br /> +Else I could tell ye hours are strangely alter'd:<br /> +The young Duke has too many eyes upon him,<br /> +Too many fears 'tis thought too, and to nourish those,<br /> +Maintains too many Instruments.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Put.</i> Turn their hearts,<br /> +Or turn their heels up, Heaven: 'Tis strange it should be:<br /> +The old Duke lov'd him dearly.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> He deserv'd it;<br /> +And were he not my Father, I durst tell ye,<br /> +The memorable hazards he has run through<br /> +Deserv'd of this man too; highly deserv'd too;<br /> +Had they been less, they had been safe <i>Putskie</i>,<br /> +And sooner reach'd regard.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Put.</i> There you struck sure, Sir.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> Did I never tell thee of a vow he made<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span>Some years before the old Duke dyed?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Put.</i> I have heard ye<br /> +Speak often of that vow; but how it was,<br /> +Or to what end, I never understood yet.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> I'le tell thee then: and then thou wilt find the reason:<br /> +The last great Muster, ('twas before ye serv'd here,<br /> +Before the last Dukes death, whose honour'd bones<br /> +Now rest in peace) this young Prince had the ordering,<br /> +(To Crown his Fathers hopes) of all the Army:<br /> +Who (to be short) put all his power to practise;<br /> +Fashion'd, and drew 'em up: but alas, so poorly,<br /> +So raggedly and loosely, so unsouldier'd,<br /> +The good Duke blush'd, and call'd unto my Father,<br /> +<a name="p78_l14" id="p78_l14"></a>Who then was General: Go, <i>Archas</i>, speedily,<br /> +<a name="p78_l15" id="p78_l15"></a>And chide the Boy, before the Souldiers find him,<br /> +Stand thou between his ignorance and them,<br /> +Fashion their bodies new to thy direction;<br /> +Then draw thou up, and shew the Prince his errours.<br /> +My Sire obey'd, and did so; with all duty<br /> +Inform'd the Prince, and read him all directions:<br /> +This bred distaste, distaste grew up to anger,<br /> +And anger into wild words broke out thus:<br /> +<a name="p78_l23" id="p78_l23"></a>Well, <i>Archas</i>, if I live but to command here,<br /> +To be but Duke once, I shall then remember.<br /> +I shall remember truly, trust me, I shall,<br /> +And by my Fathers hand—the rest his eyes spoke.<br /> +To which my Father answer'd (somewhat mov'd too)<br /> +And with a vow he seal'd it: Royal Sir,<br /> +Since for my faith and fights, your scorn and anger<br /> +Only pursue me; if I live to that day,<br /> +That day so long expected to reward me,<br /> +By his so ever noble hand you swore by,<br /> +And by the hand of Justice, never Arms more<br /> +Shall rib this body in, nor sword hang here, Sir:<br /> +The Conflicts I will do you service then in,<br /> +Shall be repentant prayers: So they parted.<br /> +<a name="p78_l37" id="p78_l37"></a>The time is come; and now ye know the wonder.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Put.</i> I find a fear too, which begins to tell me,<br /> +The Duke will have but poor and slight defences,<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span>If his hot humour raign, and not his honour:<br /> +How stand you with him, Sir?<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> A perdue Captain,<br /> +Full of my Fathers danger.<br /> +<br /> +<a name="p79_l4" id="p79_l4"></a><i>P</i>[<i>ut</i>]. He has rais'd a young man,<br /> +They say a slight young man, I know him not,<br /> +For what desert?<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> Believe it, a brave Gentleman,<br /> +Worth the Dukes respect, a clear sweet Gentleman,<br /> +And of a noble soul: Come let's retire us,<br /> +And wait upon my Father, who within this hour<br /> +You will find an alter'd man.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Put.</i> I am sorry for't, Sir. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exeunt.</i></span><br /> +</p> + + + +<h4>SCENE II.</h4> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> Olympia, <i>and two Gentlewomen</i>.</p> + +<p> +<i>Olym.</i> Is't not a handsome Wench?<br /> +<br /> +<i>2 Wom.</i> She is well enough, Madam:<br /> +I have seen a better face, and a straighter body,<br /> +And yet she is a pretty Gentlewoman.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Olym.</i> What thinkst thou <i>Petesca</i>?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Pet.</i> Alas, Madam, I have no skill, she has a black eye,<br /> +Which is of the least too, and the dullest water:<br /> +And when her mouth was made, for certain Madam,<br /> +Nature intended her a right good stomach.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Olym.</i> She has a good hand.<br /> +<br /> +<i>2 Wom.</i> 'Tis good enough to hold fast,<br /> +And strong enough to strangle the neck of a Lute.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Olym.</i> What think ye of her colour?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Pet.</i> If it be her own<br /> +'Tis good black blood: right weather-proof<br /> +I warrant it.<br /> +<br /> +<i>2 Wom.</i> What a strange pace she has got!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Olym.</i> That's but her breeding.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Pet.</i> And what a manly body! me thinks she looks<br /> +As though she would pitch the Bar, or go to Buffets.<br /> +<br /> +<i>2 Wom.</i> Yet her behaviour's utterly against it,<br /> +For me thinks she is too bashful.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Olym.</i> Is that hurtful?<br /> +<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span><i>2 Wom.</i> Even equal to too bold: either of 'em, Madam,<br /> +May do her injury when time shall serve her.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Olym.</i> You discourse learnedly, call in the wench. <span class="ralign">[<i>Ex. Gent.</i></span><br /> +What envious fools are you? Is the rule general,<br /> +That Women can speak handsomly of none,<br /> +But those they are bred withal?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Pet.</i> Scarce well of those, Madam,<br /> +If they believe they may out-shine 'em any way:<br /> +Our natures are like Oyl, compound us with any thing,<br /> +Yet still we strive to swim o' th' top:<br /> +Suppose there were here now,<br /> +Now in this Court of <i>Mosco</i>, a stranger Princess,<br /> +Of bloud and beauty equal to your excellence,<br /> +As many eyes and services stuck on her;<br /> +What would you think?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Olym.</i> I would think she might deserve it.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Pet.</i> Your Grace shall give me leave not to believe ye;<br /> +I know you are a Woman, and so humour'd:<br /> +I'le tell ye Madam, I could then get more Gowns on ye,<br /> +More Caps and Feathers, more Scarfs, and more Silk-stockings<br /> +With rocking you asleep with nightly railings<br /> +Upon that Woman, than if I had nine lives<br /> +I could wear out: by this hand ye'would scratch her eyes out.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Olym.</i> Thou art deceiv'd fool;<br /> +<a name="p80_l24" id="p80_l24"></a>Now let your own eye mock ye.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter Gentlewoman and</i> Alinda.</p> + +<p> +Come hither Girl: hang me and she be not a handsom one.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Pet.</i> I fear it will prove indeed so.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Olym.</i> Did you ever serve yet<br /> +In any place of worth?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Alin.</i> No, Royal Lady.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Pet.</i> Hold up your head; fie.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Olym.</i> Let her alone, stand from her.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Alin.</i> It shall be now,<br /> +Of all the blessings my poor youth has pray'd for,<br /> +The greatest and the happiest to serve you;<br /> +And might my promise carry but that credit<br /> +To be believ'd, because I am yet a stranger,<br /> +Excellent Lady, when I fall from duty,<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span>From all the service that my life can lend me,<br /> +May everlasting misery then find me.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Olym.</i> What think ye now? I do believe, and thank ye;<br /> +And sure I shall not be so far forgetful,<br /> +To see that honest faith die unrewarded:<br /> +What must I call your name?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Alin.</i> <i>Alinda</i>, Madam.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Olym.</i> Can ye sing?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Alin.</i> A little, when my grief will give me leave, Lady.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Olym.</i> What grief canst thou have Wench?<br /> +Thou art not in love?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Alin.</i> If I be Madam, 'tis only with your goodness;<br /> +For yet I never saw that man I sighed for.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Olym.</i> Of what years are you?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Alin.</i> My Mother oft has told me,<br /> +That very day and hour this land was blest<br /> +With your most happy birth, I first saluted<br /> +This worlds fair light: Nature was then so busie,<br /> +And all the Graces to adorn your goodness,<br /> +I stole into the world poor and neglected.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Olym.</i> Something there was, when I first look'd upon thee,<br /> +Made me both like and love thee: now I know it;<br /> +And you shall find that knowledge shall not hurt you:<br /> +I hope ye are a Maid?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Alin.</i> I hope so too, Madam;<br /> +I am sure for any man: and were I otherwise,<br /> +Of all the services my hopes could point at,<br /> +I durst not touch at yours.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Flourish. Enter Duke</i>, Burris, <i>and Gent.</i></p> + +<p> +<i>Pet.</i> The great Duke, Madam.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Duk.</i> Good morrow, Sister.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Olym.</i> A good day to your highness.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Duk.</i> I am come to pray you use no more perswasions<br /> +For this old stubborn man: nay to command ye:<br /> +His sail is swell'd too full: he is grown too insolent,<br /> +Too self-affected, proud: those poor slight services<br /> +He has done my Father, and my self, has blown him<br /> +To such a pitch, he flyes to stoop our favours.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Olym.</i> I am sorry Sir: I ever thought those services<br /> +Both great and noble.<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span><br /> +<i>Bur.</i> However, may it please ye<br /> +But to consider 'em a true hearts Servants,<br /> +Done out of faith to you, and not self-fame:<br /> +<a name="p82_l4" id="p82_l4"></a>Do but consider royal Sir, the dangers;<br /> +When you have slept secure, the mid-night tempests,<br /> +That as he marcht sung through his aged locks;<br /> +When you have fed at full, the wants and famins;<br /> +The fires of Heaven, when you have found all temperate,<br /> +Death with his thousand doors—<br /> +<br /> +<i>Duk.</i> I have consider'd;<br /> +No more: and that I will have, shall be.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Olym.</i> For the best,<br /> +I hope all still.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Duk.</i> What handsom wench is that there?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Olym.</i> My Servant, Sir.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Duk.</i> Prethee observe her <i>Burris</i>,<br /> +Is she not wondrous handsom? speak thy freedom.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bur.</i> She appears no less to me Sir.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Duk.</i> Of whence is she?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ol.</i> Her Father I am told is a good Gentleman,<br /> +But far off dwelling: her desire to serve me<br /> +Brought her to th' Court, and here her friends have left her.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> She may find better friends:<br /> +Ye are welcom fair one,<br /> +I have not seen a sweeter: By your Ladies leave:<br /> +Nay stand up sweet, we'll have no superstition:<br /> +You have got a Servant; you may use him kindly,<br /> +And he may honour ye: <span class="ralign">[<i>Ex.</i> Duke <i>and</i> Burris.</span><br /> +Good morrow Sister.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ol.</i> Good morrow to your Grace. How the wench blushes!<br /> +<a name="p82_l31" id="p82_l31"></a>How like an A[n]gel now she looks!<br /> +<br /> +<i>1 Wom.</i> At first jump<br /> +Jump into the Dukes arms? we must look to you,<br /> +Indeed we must, the next jump we are journeymen.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Pet.</i> I see the ruine of our hopes already,<br /> +Would she were at home again, milking her Fathers Cows.<br /> +<br /> +<i>1 Wom.</i> I fear she'l milk all the great Courtiers first.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Olym.</i> This has not made ye proud?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> No certain, Madam.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Olym.</i> It was the Duke that kist ye.<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span><br /> +<i>Al.</i> 'Twas your Brother,<br /> +And therefore nothing can be meant but honour.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ol.</i> But say he love ye?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> That he may with safety:<br /> +A Princes love extends to all his subjects.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ol.</i> But say in more particular?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> Pray fear not:<br /> +For vertues sake deliver me from doubts, Lady:<br /> +'Tis not the name of King, nor all his promises,<br /> +His glories, and his greatness stuck about me,<br /> +Can make me prove a Traitor to your service:<br /> +You are my Mistris, and my noble Master,<br /> +Your vertues my ambition, and your favour<br /> +The end of all my love, and all my fortune:<br /> +And when I fail in that faith—<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ol.</i> I believe thee,<br /> +Come wipe your eyes; I do: take you example—<br /> +<br /> +<i>Pets.</i> I would her eyes were out.<br /> +<br /> +<i>1 Wom.</i> If the wind stand in this door,<br /> +We shall have but cold custome: some trick or other,<br /> +And speedily.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Pet.</i> Let me alone to think on't.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ol.</i> Come, be you near me still.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> With all my duty. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exeunt.</i></span><br /> +</p> + + +<h4>SCENA III.</h4> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> Archas, Theodor, Putskie, <i>Ancient, and Souldiers, +carrying his armour piece-meale, his Colours wound up, +and his Drums in Cases</i>.</p> + +<p> +<i>Theod.</i> This is the heaviest march we e're trod Captain.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Puts.</i> This was not wont to be: these honour'd pieces<br /> +The fierie god of war himself would smile at,<br /> +Buckl'd upon that body, were not wont thus,<br /> +Like Reliques to be offer'd to long rust,<br /> +And heavy-ey'd oblivion brood upon 'em.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Arch.</i> There set 'em down: and glorious war farewel;<br /> +Thou child of honour and ambitious thoughts,<br /> +Begot in bloud, and nurs'd with Kingdomes ruines;<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span>Thou golden danger, courted by thy followers<br /> +Through fires and famins, for one title from thee—<br /> +Prodigal man-kind spending all his fortunes;<br /> +A long farewel I give thee: Noble Arms,<br /> +You ribs for mighty minds, you Iron houses,<br /> +Made to defie the thunder-claps of Fortune,<br /> +Rust and consuming time must now dwell with ye:<br /> +And thou good Sword that knewst the way to conquest,<br /> +Upon whose fatal edge despair and death dwelt,<br /> +That when I shook thee thus, fore-shew'd destruction,<br /> +Sleep now from bloud, and grace my Monument:<br /> +Farewel my Eagle; when thou flew'st, whole Armies<br /> +Have stoopt below thee: At Passage I have seen thee,<br /> +Ruffle the <i>Tartars</i>, as they fled thy furie;<br /> +And bang 'em up together, as a Tassel,<br /> +Upon the streach, a flock of fearfull Pigeons.<br /> +I yet remember when the <i>Volga</i> curl'd,<br /> +The aged <i>Volga</i>, when he heav'd his head up,<br /> +And rais'd his waters high, to see the ruins;<br /> +The ruines our Swords made, the bloudy ruins,<br /> +Then flew this Bird of honour bravely, Gentlemen;<br /> +But these must be forgotten: so must these too,<br /> +And all that tend to Arms, by me for ever.<br /> +Take 'em you holy men; my Vow take with 'em,<br /> +Never to wear 'em more: Trophies I give 'em,<br /> +And sacred Rites of war to adorn the Temple:<br /> +There let 'em hang, to tell the world their master<br /> +Is now Devotions Souldier, fit for prayer.<br /> +Why do ye hang your heads? why look you sad friends?<br /> +I am not dying yet.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Theod.</i> Ye are indeed to us Sir.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Puts.</i> Dead to our fortunes, General.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Arch.</i> You'l find a better,<br /> +A greater, and a stronger man to lead ye,<br /> +And to a stronger fortune: I am old, friends,<br /> +<a name="p84_l35" id="p84_l35"></a>Time, and the wars together make me stoop, Gentle[men],<br /> +Stoop to my grave: my mind unfurnish'd too,<br /> +Emptie and weak as I am: my poor body,<br /> +Able for nothing now but contemplation,<br /> +And that will be a task too to a Souldier:<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span>Yet had they but encourag'd me, or thought well<br /> +Of what I have done, I think I should have ventur'd<br /> +For one knock more, I should have made a shift yet<br /> +To have broke one staff more handsomly, and have died<br /> +Like a good fellow, and an honest Souldier,<br /> +In the head of ye all, with my Sword in my hand,<br /> +And so have made an end of all with credit.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Theod.</i> Well, there will come an hour, when all these injuries,<br /> +These secure slights—<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> Ha! no more of that sirrah,<br /> +Not one word more of that I charge ye.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Theod.</i> I must speak Sir.<br /> +And may that tongue forget to sound your service,<br /> +That's dumb to your abuses.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> Understand fool,<br /> +That voluntary I sit down.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Theod.</i> You are forced, Sir,<br /> +Forced for your safety: I too well remember<br /> +The time and cause, and I may live to curse 'em:<br /> +You made this Vow, and whose unnobleness,<br /> +Indeed forgetfulness of good—<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> No more,<br /> +As thou art mine no more.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> Whose doubts and envies—<br /> +But the Devil will have his due.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Puts.</i> Good gentle Colonel.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> And though disgraces, and contempt of Honour<br /> +Reign now, the Wheel must turn again.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> Peace Sirrah,<br /> +Your tongue's too saucy: do you stare upon me?<br /> +Down with that heart, down suddenly, down with it,<br /> +Down with that disobedience; tye that tongue up.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Theod.</i> Tongue?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> Do not provoke me to forget my Vow, Sirrah.<br /> +And draw that fatal Sword again in anger.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Puts.</i> For Heavens sake, Colonel.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> Do not let me doubt<br /> +Whose Son thou art, because thou canst not suffer:<br /> +Do not play with mine anger; if thou dost,<br /> +By all the Loyalty my heart holds—<br /> +<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span><i>Theod.</i> I have done, Sir,<br /> +Pray pardon me.<br /> +<br /> +<a name="p86_l2" id="p86_l2"></a><i>Ar.</i> I pray be worthy of it:<br /> +Beshrew your heart, you have vext me.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> I am sorry, Sir.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> Go to, no more of this: be true and honest,<br /> +I know ye are man enough, mould it to just ends,<br /> +And let not my disgraces, then I am miserable,<br /> +When I have nothing left me but thy angers.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Flourish.</i> <i>Enter Duke</i>, Burris, Boroskie, <i>Attend. and Gent.</i></p> + +<p> +<i>Puts.</i> And't please ye, Sir, the Duke.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Duk.</i> Now, what's all this?<br /> +The meaning of this ceremonious Emblem?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> Your Grace should first remember—<br /> +<br /> +<i>Boros.</i> There's his Nature.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Duk.</i> I do, and shall remember still that injury,<br /> +That at the Muster, where it pleas'd your Greatness<br /> +To laugh at my poor Souldiership, to scorn it;<br /> +And more to make me seem ridiculous,<br /> +Took from my hands my charge.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bur.</i> O think not so, Sir.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Duk.</i> And in my Fathers sight.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> Heaven be my witness,<br /> +I did no more, (and that with modesty,<br /> +With Love and Faith to you) than was my warrant,<br /> +And from your Father seal'd: nor durst that rudeness,<br /> +And impudence of scorn fall from my 'haviour,<br /> +I ever yet knew duty.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> We shall teach ye,<br /> +I well remember too, upon some words I told ye,<br /> +Then at that time, some angry words ye answer'd,<br /> +If ever I were Duke, you were no Souldier.<br /> +You have kept your word, and so it shall be to you,<br /> +From henceforth I dismiss you; take your ease, Sir.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> I humbly thank your Grace; this wasted Body,<br /> +Beaten and bruis'd with Arms, dry'd up with troubles,<br /> +Is good for nothing else but quiet, now Sir,<br /> +And holy Prayers; in which, when I forget<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span><a name="p86_l38" id="p86_l38"></a>To thank Heaven for all your bounteous favours,<br /> +May that be deaf, and my Petitions perish.<br /> +<br /> +<a name="p87_l1" id="p87_l1"></a><i>Boros.</i> What a smooth humble Cloak he has cas'd his pride in!<br /> +And how he has pull'd his Claws in! there's no trusting—<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bur.</i> Speak for the best.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> Believe I shall do ever.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> To make ye understand, we feel not yet<br /> +Such dearth of Valour, and Experience,<br /> +Such a declining Age of doing Spirits,<br /> +That all should be confin'd within your excellence,<br /> +And you, or none be honour'd, take <i>Boroskie</i>,<br /> +The place he has commanded, lead the Souldier;<br /> +A little time will bring thee to his honour,<br /> +Which has been nothing but the Worlds opinion,<br /> +The Souldiers fondness, and a little fortune,<br /> +Which I believe his Sword had the least share in.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Theod.</i> O that I durst but answer now.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Puts.</i> Good Colonel.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Theod.</i> My heart will break else: Royal Sir, I know not<br /> +What you esteem mens lives, whose hourly labours,<br /> +And loss of Blood, consumptions in your service,<br /> +Whose Bodies are acquainted with more miseries,<br /> +And all to keep you safe, than Dogs or Slaves are.<br /> +His Sword the least share gain'd?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> You will not fight with me?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Theod.</i> No Sir, I dare not,<br /> +You are my Prince, but I dare speak to ye,<br /> +And dare speak truth, which none of their ambitions<br /> +That be informers to you, dare once think of;<br /> +Yet truth will now but anger ye; I am sorry for't,<br /> +<a name="p87_l30" id="p87_l30"></a>And so I take my leave. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exit.</i></span><br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> Ev'n when you please, Sir.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> Sirrah, see me no more.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> And so may you too:<br /> +You have a house i'th' Country, keep you there, Sir,<br /> +And when you have rul'd your self, teach your Son manners,<br /> +For this time I forgive him.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> Heaven forgive all;<br /> +And to your Grace a happy and long Rule here.<br /> +And you Lord General, may your fights be prosperous.<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span>In all your Course may Fame and Fortune court you.<br /> +Fight for your Country, and your Princes safety;<br /> +Boldly, and bravely face your Enemy,<br /> +And when you strike, strike with that killing Vertue,<br /> +As if a general Plague had seiz'd before ye;<br /> +Danger, and doubt, and labour cast behind ye;<br /> +And then come home an old and noble Story.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bur.</i> A little comfort, Sir.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> As little as may be:<br /> +Farewel, you know your limit. <span class="ralign">[<i>Ex. Duke</i>, &c.</span><br /> +<br /> +<i>Bur.</i> Alas, brave Gentleman.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> I do, and will observe it suddenly,<br /> +My Grave; I, that's my limit; 'tis no new thing,<br /> +Nor that can make me start, or tremble at it,<br /> +To buckle with that old grim Souldier now:<br /> +I have seen him in his sowrest shapes, and dreadfull'st;<br /> +I, and I thank my honesty, have stood him:<br /> +That audit's cast; farewel my honest Souldiers,<br /> +Give me your hands; farewel, farewel good <i>Ancient</i>,<br /> +A stout man, and a true, thou art come in sorrow.<br /> +Blessings upon your Swords, may they ne'r fail ye;<br /> +You do but change a man; your fortune's constant;<br /> +That by your ancient Valours is ty'd fast still;<br /> +Be valiant still, and good: and when ye fight next,<br /> +When flame and fury make but one face of horrour,<br /> +When the great rest of all your honour's up,<br /> +When you would think a Spell to shake the enemy,<br /> +Remember me, my Prayers shall be with ye:<br /> +So once again farewel.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Puts.</i> Let's wait upon ye.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> No, no, it must not be; I have now left me<br /> +A single Fortune to my self, no more,<br /> +Which needs no train, nor complement; good Captain,<br /> +You are an honest and a sober Gentleman,<br /> +And one I think has lov'd me.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Puts</i>. I am sure on't.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar</i>. Look to my Boy, he's grown too headstrong for me.<br /> +And if they think him fit to carry Arms still,<br /> +His life is theirs; I have a house i'th' Country,<br /> +And when your better hours will give you liberty,<br /> +See me: you shall be welcome. Fortune to ye. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exit.</i></span><br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span><br /> +<i>Anc.</i> I'll cry no more, that will do him no good,<br /> +And 'twill but make me dry, and I have no money:<br /> +I'll fight no more, and that will do them harm;<br /> +And if I can do that, I care not for money:<br /> +I could have curst reasonable well, and I have had the luck too<br /> +To have 'em hit sometimes. Whosoever thou art,<br /> +That like a Devil didst possess the Duke<br /> +With these malicious thoughts; mark what I say to thee,<br /> +A Plague upon thee, that's but the Preamble.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Sold.</i> O take the Pox too.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Anc.</i> They'll cure one another;<br /> +I must have none but kills, and those kill stinking:<br /> +Or look ye, let the single Pox possess them,<br /> +Or Pox upon Pox.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Puts.</i> That's but ill i'th' arms, Sir.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Anc.</i> 'Tis worse i'th' Legs, I would not wish it else:<br /> +And may those grow to scabs as big as Mole-hills,<br /> +And twice a day, the Devil with a Curry-Comb<br /> +Scratch 'em, and scrub 'em: I warrant him he has 'em.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Sold.</i> May he be ever lowzie.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Anc.</i> That's a pleasure,<br /> +The Beggar's Lechery; sometimes the Souldiers:<br /> +May he be ever lazie, stink where he stands,<br /> +And Maggots breed in's Brains.<br /> +<br /> +<i>2 Sold.</i> I, marry Sir,<br /> +May he fall mad in love with his Grand-mother,<br /> +And kissing her, may her teeth drop into his mouth,<br /> +And one fall cross his throat, then let him gargle.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter a Post.</i></p> + +<p> +<i>Puts.</i> Now, what's the matter?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Post.</i> Where's the Duke, pray, Gentlemen?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Puts.</i> Keep on your way, you cannot miss.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Post.</i> I thank ye. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exit.</i></span><br /> +<br /> +<i>Anc.</i> If he be married, may he dream he's cuckol'd,<br /> +And when he wakes believe, and swear he saw it,<br /> +Sue a Divorce, and after find her honest:<br /> +Then in a pleasant Pigstye, with his own garters,<br /> +And a fine running knot, ride to the Devil.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Puts.</i> If these would do—<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span><br /> +<i>Anc.</i> I'll never trust my mind more,<br /> +If all these fail.<br /> +<br /> +<i>1 Sold.</i> What shall we do now, Captain?<br /> +<a name="p90_l4" id="p90_l4"></a>For by this honest hand I'll be torn in pieces,<br /> +Unless my old General go, or some that love him,<br /> +And love us equal too, before I fight more:<br /> +I can make a Shooe yet, and draw it on too,<br /> +If I like the Leg well.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Anc.</i> Fight? 'tis likely:<br /> +No, there will be the sport Boys, when there's need on's.<br /> +They think the other Crown will do, will carry us,<br /> +And the brave golden Coat of Captain <i>Cankro<br /> +Boroskie</i>. What a noise his very name carries!<br /> +'Tis Gun enough to fright a Nation,<br /> +He needs no Souldiers; if he do, for my part,<br /> +I promise ye he's like to seek 'em; so I think you think too,<br /> +And all the Army; No, honest, brave old <i>Archas</i>,<br /> +We cannot so soon leave thy memory,<br /> +So soon forget thy goodness: he that does,<br /> +The scandal and the scumm of Arms be counted.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Puts.</i> You much rejoice me now you have hit my meaning,<br /> +I durst not press ye, till I found your spirits:<br /> +Continue thus.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Anc.</i> I'll go and tell the Duke on't.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter 2 Post.</i></p> + +<p> +<i>Puts.</i> No, no, he'll find it soon enough, and fear it,<br /> +When once occasion comes: Another Packet!<br /> +From whence, Friend, come you?<br /> +<br /> +<i>2 Post.</i> From the Borders, Sir.<br /> +<br /> +<a name="p90_l30" id="p90_l30"></a><i>Puts.</i> What news, Sir, I beseech you?<br /> +<br /> +<i>2 Post.</i> Fire and Sword, Gentlemen;<br /> +The <i>Tartar</i>'s up, and with a mighty force,<br /> +Comes forward, like a tempest, all before him<br /> +Burning and killing.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Anc.</i> Brave Boys, brave news, Boys.<br /> +<br /> +<i>2 Post.</i> Either we must have present help—<br /> +<br /> +<i>Anc.</i> Still braver.<br /> +<br /> +<i>2 Post.</i> Where lies the Duke?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Sold.</i> He's there.<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span><br /> +<i>2 Post.</i> 'Save ye, Gentlemen. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exit.</i></span><br /> +<br /> +<i>Anc.</i> We are safe enough, I warrant thee:<br /> +Now the time's come.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Puts.</i> I, now 'tis come indeed, and now stand firm, Boys,<br /> +And let 'em burn on merrily.<br /> +<br /> +<a name="p91_l6" id="p91_l6"></a><i>Anc.</i> This City would make a fine marvellous Bone-fire:<br /> +'Tis old dry timber, and such Wood has no fellow.<br /> +<br /> +<i>2 Sold.</i> Here will be trim piping anon and whining,<br /> +Like so many Pigs in a storm,<br /> +When they hear the news once.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> Boroskie, <i>and Servant</i>.</p> + +<p> +<i>Puts.</i> Here's one has heard it already;<br /> +Room for the General.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Boros.</i> Say I am faln exceeding sick o'th' sudden,<br /> +And am not like to live.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Puts.</i> If ye go on, Sir,<br /> +For they will kill ye certainly; they look for ye.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Anc.</i> I see your Lordship's bound, take a suppository,<br /> +'Tis I, Sir; a poor cast Flag of yours. The foolish <i>Tartars</i><br /> +They burn and kill, and't like your honour, kill us,<br /> +Kill with Guns, with Guns my Lord, with Guns, Sir.<br /> +What says your Lordship to a chick in sorrel sops?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Puts.</i> Go, go thy ways old true-penny;<br /> +Thou hast but one fault: thou art ev'n too valiant.<br /> +Come, to'th' Army Gentlemen, and let's make them acquainted.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Sold.</i> Away, we are for ye. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exeunt.</i></span><br /> +</p> + + +<h4>SCENE IV.</h4> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> Alinda, <i>and two Gentlewomen</i>.</p> + +<p> +<i>Alin.</i> Why, whither run ye Fools; will ye leave my Lady?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Petes.</i> The <i>Tartar</i> comes, the <i>Tartar</i> comes.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Alin.</i> Why, let him,<br /> +I thought you had fear'd no men: upon my conscience<br /> +You have try'd their strengths already; stay for shame.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Pet.</i> Shift for thy self, <i>Alinda</i>. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exit.</i></span><br /> +<br /> +<i>Alin.</i> Beauty bless ye:<br /> +Into what Grooms Feather-Bed will you creep now?<br /> +And there mistake the enemy; sweet youths ye are,<br /> +And of a constant courage; are you afraid of foining?<br /> +</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span></p> +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> Olympia.</p> + +<p> +<i>Olym.</i> O my good Wench, what shall become of us?<br /> +The Posts come hourly in, and bring new danger;<br /> +The enemy is past the <i>Volga</i>, and bears hither<br /> +With all the blood and cruelty he carries,<br /> +My Brother now will find his fault.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Alin.</i> I doubt me,<br /> +<a name="p92_l8" id="p92_l8"></a>Somewhat too late, Madam. But pray fear not,<br /> +All will be well, I hope. Sweet Madam, shake not.<br /> +<br /> +<a name="p92_l10" id="p92_l10"></a><i>Olym.</i> How cam'st thou by this Spirit? our Sex trembles.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Alin.</i> I am not unacquainted with these dangers;<br /> +And you shall know my truth; for ere you perish,<br /> +A hundred Swords shall pass through me: 'tis but dying,<br /> +And Madam we must do it: the manner's all:<br /> +You have a Princely Birth, take Princely thoughts to you,<br /> +And take my counsel too; go presently,<br /> +With all the haste ye have, (I will attend ye)<br /> +With all the possible speed, to old Lord <i>Archas</i>,<br /> +He honours ye; with all your art perswade him,<br /> +('Twill be a dismal time else) woo him hither,<br /> +But hither Madam, make him see the danger;<br /> +For your new General looks like an Ass;<br /> +There's nothing in his face but loss.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Olym.</i> I'll do it.<br /> +And thank thee, sweet <i>Alinda</i>: O my Jewel,<br /> +How much I'm bound to love thee! by this hand, Wench,<br /> +If thou wert a man—<br /> +<br /> +<i>Alin.</i> I would I were to fight for you.<br /> +But haste dear Madam.<br /> +<br /> +<a name="p92_l30" id="p92_l30"></a><i>Olym.</i> I need no Spurs <i>Alinda</i>.<br /> +</p> + + +<h4>SCENE V.</h4> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter Duke, 2 Posts, Attendants, Gentlemen.</i></p> + +<p> +<i>Du.</i> The Lord General sick now? is this a time<br /> +For men to creep into their Beds? What's become, Post,<br /> +Of my Lieutenant?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Post.</i> Beaten, and't please your Grace,<br /> +And all his Forces sparkled.</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter a Gentleman.</i></p> + +<p> +<i>Du.</i> That's but cold news:<br /> +How now, what good news? are the Souldiers ready?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ge.</i> Yes Sir, but fight they will not, nor stir from that place<br /> +They stand in now, unless they have Lord <i>Archas</i><br /> +To lead 'em out; they rail upon this General,<br /> +And sing Songs of him, scurvy Songs, to worse tunes:<br /> +And much they spare not you, Sir: here they swear<br /> +They'll stand and see the City burnt, and dance about it,<br /> +Unless Lord <i>Archas</i> come before they fight for't:<br /> +It must be so, Sir.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> I could wish it so too;<br /> +And to that end I have sent Lord <i>Burris</i> to him;<br /> +But all I fear will fail; we must dye, Gentlemen,<br /> +And one stroke we'll have for't.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> Burris.</p> + +<p> +What bring'st thou, <i>Burris</i>?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bur.</i> That I am loth to tell; he will not come, Sir;<br /> +I found him at his Prayers, there he tells me,<br /> +The Enemy shall take him, fit for Heaven:<br /> +I urg'd to him all our dangers, his own worths,<br /> +The Countries ruine; nay I kneel'd and pray'd him;<br /> +He shook his head, let fall a tear, and pointed<br /> +Thus with his finger to the Ground; a Grave<br /> +I think he meant; and this was all he answer'd.<br /> +Your Grace was much to blame:<br /> +Where's the new General?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> He is sick, poor man.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bur.</i> He's a poor man indeed, Sir:<br /> +Your Grace must needs go to the Souldier.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> They have sent me word<br /> +They will not stir, they rail at me,<br /> +And all the spight they have— <span class="ralign">[<i>Shout within.</i></span><br /> +What shout is that there?<br /> +Is the Enemy come so near?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> Archas, Olympia, <i>and</i> Alinda.</p> + +<p> +<i>Olym.</i> I have brought him, Sir,<br /> +At length I have woo'd him thus far.<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span><br /> +<i>Du.</i> Happy Sister,<br /> +O blessed Woman!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Olym.</i> Use him nobly, Brother;<br /> +You never had more need: And Gentlemen,<br /> +All the best powers ye have, to tongues turn presently,<br /> +To winning and perswading tongues: all my art,<br /> +Only to bring him hither, I have utter'd;<br /> +Let it be yours to arm him; And good my Lord,<br /> +Though I exceed the limit you allow'd me,<br /> +Which was the happiness to bring ye hither,<br /> +And not to urge ye farther; yet, see your Country,<br /> +Out of your own sweet Spirit now behold it:<br /> +Turn round, and look upon the miseries,<br /> +<a name="p94_l14" id="p94_l14"></a>On every side the fears; O see the dangers;<br /> +We find 'em soonest, therefore hear me first, Sir.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> Next hear your Prince:<br /> +You have said you lov'd him, <i>Archas</i>,<br /> +And thought your life too little for his service;<br /> +Think not your vow too great now, now the time is,<br /> +And now you are brought to th' test, touch right now Souldier,<br /> +Now shew the manly pureness of thy mettle;<br /> +Now if thou beest that valued man, that vertue,<br /> +That great obedience teaching all, now stand it.<br /> +What I have said forget, my youth was hasty,<br /> +And what you said your self forgive, you were angry.<br /> +If men could live without their faults, they were gods, <i>Archas</i>.<br /> +He weeps, and holds his hands up: to him, <i>Burris</i>.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bur.</i> You have shew'd the Prince his faults;<br /> +And like a good Surgeon you have laid<br /> +That to 'em makes 'em smart; he feels it,<br /> +Let 'em not fester now, Sir; your own honour,<br /> +The bounty of that mind, and your allegiance,<br /> +'Gainst which I take it, Heaven gives no Command, Sir,<br /> +Nor seals no Vow, can better teach ye now<br /> +What ye have to do, than I, or this necessity;<br /> +Only this little's left; would ye do nobly,<br /> +And in the Eye of Honour truly triumph?<br /> +Conquer that mind first, and then men are nothing.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Alin.</i> Last, a poor Virgin kneels; for loves sake General,<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span>If ever you have lov'd; for her sake, Sir,<br /> +For your own honesty, which is a Virgin,<br /> +Look up, and pity us, be bold and fortunate,<br /> +You are a Knight, a good and noble Souldier,<br /> +And when your Spurs were given ye, your Sword buckl'd,<br /> +Then were you sworn for Vertues Cause, for Beauties,<br /> +For Chastity to strike; strike now, they suffer;<br /> +Now draw your Sword, or else you are recreant,<br /> +Only a Knight i'th' Heels, i'th' Heart a Coward;<br /> +Your first Vow honour made, your last but anger.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> How like my vertuous Wife this thing looks, speaks too?<br /> +So would she chide my dulness: fair one, I thank ye.<br /> +My gracious Sir, your pardon, next your hand:<br /> +Madam, your favour, and your prayers: Gentlemen,<br /> +Your wishes, and your loves: and pretty sweet one,<br /> +A favour for your Souldier.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Olymp.</i> Give him this, Wench.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Alin.</i> Thus do I tye on Victory.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Arc.</i> My Armour,<br /> +My Horse, my Sword, my tough Staff, and my Fortune,<br /> +And <i>Olin</i> now I come to shake thy glory.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> Go, brave and prosperous, our loves go with thee.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Olymp.</i> Full of thy vertue, and our Prayers attend thee.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bur. &c.</i> Loaden with Victory, and we to honour thee.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Alin.</i> Come home the Son of Honour,<br /> +And I'll serve ye. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exeunt.</i></span><br /> +</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 15%;" /> +<h3><i>Actus Secundus. Scena Prima.</i></h3> + + +<p class="center"><i>Enter Duke</i>, Burris, <i>and two Gentlemen</i>.</p> + +<p> +<i>Duke.</i> No news of <i>Archas</i> yet?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bur.</i> But now, and't please ye,<br /> +A Post came in, Letters he brought none with him,<br /> +But this deliver'd: He saw the Armies join,<br /> +The game of Blood begun, and by our General,<br /> +Who never was acquainted but with Conquest,<br /> +So bravely fought, he saw the <i>Tartars</i> shaken,<br /> +And there he said he left 'em.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> Where's <i>Boroskie</i>?<br /> +<br /> +<i>1 Gent.</i> He's up again, and't please ye.<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span><br /> +<i>Bur.</i> Sir, methinks<br /> +This News should make ye lightsome, bring joy to ye,<br /> +It strikes our hearts with general Comfort. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exit Duke.</i></span><br /> +Gone? What should this mean, so suddenly?<br /> +He's well?<br /> +<br /> +<i>2 Gent.</i> We see no other.<br /> +<br /> +<i>1 Gent.</i> Would the rest were well too,<br /> +That put these starts into him.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bur.</i> I'll go after him.<br /> +<br /> +<i>2 Gent.</i> 'Twill not be fit, Sir: h'as some secret in him<br /> +He would not be disturb'd in: know you any thing<br /> +Has crost him since the General went?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bur.</i> Not any:<br /> +If there had been, I am sure I should have found it:<br /> +Only I have heard him oft complain for money:<br /> +Money he says he wants.<br /> +<br /> +<i>1 Gent.</i> It may be that then.<br /> +<br /> +<a name="p96_l18" id="p96_l18"></a><i>Bur.</i> To him that has so ma[n]y wayes to raise it,<br /> +And those so honest, it cannot be.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter Duke and</i> Boroskie.</p> + +<p> +<i>1 Gent.</i> He comes back,<br /> +And Lord <i>Boroskie</i> with him.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bur.</i> There the game goes,<br /> +I fear some new thing hatching.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Duke.</i> Come hither <i>Burris</i>.<br /> +Go see my Sister, and commend me to her,<br /> +And to my little Mistriss give this Token;<br /> +Tell her I'le see her shortly.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bur.</i> Yes, I shall, Sir. <span class="ralign">[<i>Ex.</i> Bur. <i>and Gent.</i></span><br /> +<br /> +<i>Duke.</i> Wait you without: I would yet try him further.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> 'Twill not be much amiss: has your Grace heard yet<br /> +Of what he has done i'th' Field?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Duke.</i> A Post but now<br /> +<a name="p96_l34" id="p96_l34"></a>Came in, who saw 'em joyn, and has delivered,<br /> +The Enemy gave ground before he parted.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> 'Tis well.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Duke.</i> Come, speak thy mind man: 'tis not for fighting,<br /> +<a name="p96_l38" id="p96_l38"></a>A noise of War, I keep thee in my bosom;<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span>Thy ends are nearer to me; from my Childhood<br /> +Thou brought'st me up: and like another nature,<br /> +Made good all my necessities: speak boldly.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> Sir, what I utter, will be thought but envy<br /> +Though I intend, high heaven knows, but your honour,<br /> +When vain and empty people shall proclaim me—<br /> +Good Sir excuse me.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Duke.</i> Do you fear me for your Enemy?<br /> +Speak on your duty.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> Then I must, and dare, Sir:<br /> +When he comes home, take heed the Court receive him not,<br /> +Take heed he meet not with their loves and praises,<br /> +That Glass will shew him ten times greater, Sir,<br /> +(And make him strive to make good that proportion,)<br /> +Than ere his fortune bred him, he is honourable,<br /> +At least I strive to understand him so,<br /> +And of a nature, if not this way poyson'd,<br /> +Perfect enough, easie, and sweet, but those are soon seduc'd, Sir;<br /> +He's a great man, and what that Pill may work,<br /> +Prepar'd by general voices of the people,<br /> +Is the end of all my Counsel, only this, Sir,<br /> +Let him retire a while, there's more hangs by it<br /> +Than you know yet: there if he stand a while well,<br /> +<a name="p97_l23" id="p97_l23"></a>But till the Souldier cool, whom, for their service<br /> +You must pay now most liberally, most freely,<br /> +<a name="p97_l25" id="p97_l25"></a>And showre your self into 'em; 'tis the bounty<br /> +They follow with their loves, and not the bravery.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter two Gent.</i></p> + +<p> +<i>Duke.</i> But where's the Money? how now?<br /> +<br /> +<i>2 Gent.</i> Sir, the Colonel,<br /> +Son to the Lord <i>Archas</i>, with most happy news<br /> +Of the <i>Tartars</i> overthrow, without here<br /> +Attends your Graces pleasure.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> Be not seen, Sir,<br /> +He's a bold fellow, let me stand his Thunders,<br /> +To th' Court he must not come: no blessing here, Sir,<br /> +No face of favour, if you love your honour.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> Theodore.</p> + +<p> +<i>Duke.</i> Do what you think is meetest; I'le retire, Sir. <span class="ralign">[<i>Ex.</i></span><br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> Conduct him in, Sir—welcome noble Colonel.<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span><br /> +<i>The.</i> That's much from your Lordship: pray where's the Duke?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> We hear you have beat the <i>Tartar</i>.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> Is he busie, Sir?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> Have ye taken <i>Olin</i> yet?<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> I would fain speak with him.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> How many men have ye lost?<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> Do's he lye this way?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> I am sure you fought it bravely.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> I must see him.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> You cannot yet, ye must not, what's your Commission?<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> No Gentleman o'th' Chamber here?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> Why, pray ye, Sir?<br /> +Am not I fit to entertain your business?<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> I think you are not, Sir; I am sure ye shall not.<br /> +I bring no tales, nor flatteries: in my tongue, Sir,<br /> +I carry no fork'd stings.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> You keep your bluntness.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> You are deceiv'd: it keeps me: I had felt else<br /> +Some of your plagues ere this: but good Sir trifle not,<br /> +I have business to the Duke.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> He's not well, Sir,<br /> +And cannot now be spoke withal.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> Not well, Sir?<br /> +How would he ha' been, if we had lost? not well, Sir?<br /> +I bring him news to make him well: his enemy<br /> +That would have burnt his City here, and your House too,<br /> +Your brave gilt house, my Lord, your honours hangings,<br /> +Where all your Ancestors, and all their Battels,<br /> +Their silk and golden Battels are decipher'd:<br /> +That would not only have abus'd your buildings,<br /> +Your goodly buildings, Sir, and have drunk dry your butteries,<br /> +Purloin'd your Lordships Plate, the Duke bestow'd on you,<br /> +For turning handsomly o'th' toe, and trim'd your Virgins,<br /> +Trim'd 'em of a new cut, and't like your Lordship,<br /> +'Tis ten to one, your Wife too, and the curse is<br /> +You had had no remedy against these Rascals,<br /> +No Law, and't like your Honour; would have kill'd you too<br /> +And roasted ye, and eaten ye, ere this time:<br /> +Notable Knaves my Lord, unruly Rascals:<br /> +These youths have we ty'd up, put muzzels on 'em,<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span>And par'd their Nails, that honest civil Gentlemen,<br /> +And such most noble persons as your self is,<br /> +May live in peace, and rule the land with a twine thread.<br /> +These news I bring.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> And were they thus deliver'd ye?<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> My Lord, I am no pen-man, nor no Orator,<br /> +My tongue was never Oyl'd with Here and't like ye,<br /> +There I beseech ye, weigh, I am a Souldier,<br /> +And truth I covet only, no fine terms, Sir;<br /> +I come not to stand treating here; my business<br /> +Is with the Duke, and of such general blessing—<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> You have overthrown the enemy, we know it,<br /> +And we rejoyce in't; ye have done like honest Subjects,<br /> +You have done handsomely and well.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Theo.</i> But well, Sir?<br /> +But handsomely and well? what are we juglers?<br /> +I'le do all that in cutting up a Capon.<br /> +But handsomely and well? does your Lordship take us<br /> +For the Dukes Tumblers? we have done bravely, Sir,<br /> +Ventur'd our lives like men.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> Then bravely be it.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Theo.</i> And for as brave rewards we look, and graces,<br /> +We have sweat and bled for't, Sir.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> And ye may have it,<br /> +If you will stay the giving. Men that thank themselves first<br /> +For any good they do, take off the lustre,<br /> +And blot the benefit.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Theo.</i> Are these the welcomes,<br /> +The Bells that ring out our rewards? pray heartily,<br /> +Early and late, there may be no more Enemies:<br /> +Do my good Lord, pray seriously, and sigh too,<br /> +For if there be—<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> They must be met, and fought with.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Theo.</i> By whom? by you? they must be met and flatter'd.<br /> +Why, what a Devil ail'd ye to do these things?<br /> +With what assurance dare ye mock men thus?<br /> +You have but single lives, and those I take it<br /> +A Sword may find too: why do ye dam the Duke up?<br /> +And choak that course of love, that like a River<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span>Should fill our empty veins again with comforts?<br /> +But if ye use these knick knacks,<br /> +This fast and loose, with faithful men and honest,<br /> +You'l be the first will find it.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> Archas, <i>Souldiers</i>, Putskey, <i>Ancient, and others</i>.</p> + +<p> +<i>Boros.</i> You are too untemperate.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Theo.</i> Better be so, and thief too, than unthankful:<br /> +Pray use this old man so, and then we are paid all.<br /> +The Duke thanks ye for your service, and the Court thanks ye,<br /> +And wonderful desirous they are to see ye;<br /> +Pray Heaven we have room enough to march for May-games,<br /> +Pageants, and Bone-fires for your welcome home, Sir.<br /> +Here your most noble friend the Lord <i>Boroskie</i>,<br /> +A Gentleman too tender of your credit,<br /> +And ever in the Dukes ear, for your good, Sir,<br /> +Crazie and sickly, yet to be your servant,<br /> +Has leapt into the open air to meet ye.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> The best is, your words wound not, you are welcome home, Sir;<br /> +Heartily welcome home, and for your service,<br /> +The noble overthrow you gave the Enemy,<br /> +The Duke salutes ye too with all his thanks, Sir.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Anc.</i> Sure they will now regard us.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Puts.</i> There's a reason:<br /> +But by the changing of the Colonels countenance,<br /> +The rolling of his eyes like angry Billows;<br /> +I fear the wind's not down yet, <i>Ancient</i>.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Anc.</i> Is the Duke well, Sir?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Boros.</i> Not much unhealthy,<br /> +Only a little grudging of an Ague,<br /> +Which cannot last: he has heard, which makes him fearful,<br /> +And loth as yet to give your worth due welcome,<br /> +The sickness hath been somewhat hot i'th' Army,<br /> +Which happily may prove more doubt than danger,<br /> +And more his fear than fate; yet howsoever,<br /> +An honest care—<br /> +<br /> +<i>Arch.</i> Ye say right, and it shall be;<br /> +For though upon my life 'tis but a rumor,<br /> +A meer opinion, without faith or fear in't;<br /> +For Sir, I thank Heaven, we never stood more healthy,<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span>Never more high and lusty; yet to satisfie,<br /> +We cannot be too curious, or too careful<br /> +Of what concerns his state, we'll draw away, Sir,<br /> +And lodge at further distance, and less danger.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Boros.</i> It will be well.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Anc.</i> It will be very scurvy:<br /> +I smell it out, it stinks abominably,<br /> +Stir it no more.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Boros.</i> The Duke, Sir, would have you too,<br /> +For a short day or two, retire to your own house,<br /> +Whither himself will come to visit ye,<br /> +And give ye thanks.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Arch.</i> I shall attend his pleasure.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Anc.</i> A trick, a lousie trick: so ho, a trick Boys.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Arch.</i> How now, what's that?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Anc.</i> I thought I had found a Hare, Sir,<br /> +But 'tis a Fox, an old Fox, shall we hunt him?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Arch.</i> No more such words.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Boros.</i> The Souldier's grown too sawcy,<br /> +You must tie him straiter up.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Arch.</i> I do my best, Sir;<br /> +But men of free-born minds sometimes will flie out.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Anc.</i> May not we see the Duke?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Boros.</i> Not at this time, Gentlemen,<br /> +Your General knows the cause.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Anc.</i> We have no Plague, Sir,<br /> +Unless it be in our pay, nor no Pox neither;<br /> +Or if we had, I hope that good old Courtier<br /> +Will not deny us place there.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Puts.</i> Certain my Lord,<br /> +Considering what we are, and what we have done;<br /> +If not, what need ye may have, 'twould be better,<br /> +A great deal nobler, and taste honester<br /> +To use us with more sweetness; men that dig<br /> +And lash away their lives at the Carts tail,<br /> +Double our comforts; meat, and their Masters thanks too,<br /> +When they work well, they have; Men of our quality,<br /> +When they do well, and venture for't with valour,<br /> +Fight hard, lye hard, feed hard, when they come home, Sir,<br /> +And know these are deserving things, things worthy,<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span>Can you then blame 'em if their minds a little<br /> +Be stir'd with glory? 'tis a pride becomes 'em,<br /> +A little season'd with ambition,<br /> +To be respected, reckon'd well, and honour'd<br /> +For what they have done: when to come home thus poorly,<br /> +And met with such unjointed joy, so looked on,<br /> +As if we had done no more but drest a Horse well;<br /> +So entertain'd, as if, I thank ye Gentlemen,<br /> +Take that to drink, had pow'r to please a Souldier?<br /> +Where be the shouts, the Bells rung out, the people?<br /> +The Prince himself?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Arch.</i> Peace: I perceive your eye, Sir,<br /> +Is fixt upon this Captain for his freedom,<br /> +And happily you find his tongue too forward;<br /> +As I am Master of the place I carry,<br /> +'Tis fit I think so too; but were I this man,<br /> +No stronger tie upon me, than the truth<br /> +And tongue to tell it, I should speak as he do's,<br /> +And think with modesty enough, such Saints<br /> +That daily thrust their loves and lives through hazards,<br /> +And fearless for their Countries peace, march hourly<br /> +Through all the doors of death, and know the darkest,<br /> +Should better be canoniz'd for their service:<br /> +What labour would these men neglect, what danger<br /> +Where honour is, though seated in a Billow,<br /> +Rising as high as Heaven, would not these Souldiers,<br /> +Like to so many Sea-gods charge up to it?<br /> +Do you see these swords? times Sythe was ne'er so sharp, Sir;<br /> +Nor ever at one harvest mow'd such handfuls:<br /> +Thoughts ne'er so sudden, nor belief so sure<br /> +When they are drawn, and were it not sometimes<br /> +I swim upon their angers to allay 'em,<br /> +And like a calm depress their fell intentions;<br /> +They are so deadly sure, nature would suffer—<br /> +And whose are all these glories? why, their Princes,<br /> +Their Countries, and their Friends? Alas, of all these,<br /> +And all the happy ends they bring, the blessings,<br /> +They only share the labours: A little joy then,<br /> +And outside of a welcome, at an upshot<br /> +Would not have done amiss, Sir; but howsoever<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span>Between me and my duty, no crack, Sir,<br /> +Shall dare appear: I hope by my example<br /> +No discontent in them: without doubt Gentlemen,<br /> +The Duke will both look suddenly and truly<br /> +On your deserts: Methinks 'twere good they were paid, Sir.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> They shall be immediately; I stay for money;<br /> +And any favour else—<br /> +<br /> +<i>Arch.</i> We are all bound to ye;<br /> +And so I take my leave, Sir; when the Duke pleases<br /> +To make me worthy of his eyes—<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> Which will be suddenly,<br /> +I know his good thoughts to ye.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Arch.</i> With all duty,<br /> +And all humility, I shall attend, Sir.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> Once more you are welcome home: these shall be satisfied.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> Be sure we be: and handsomly.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Arch.</i> Wait you on me, Sir.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> And honestly: no jugling.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Arch.</i> Will ye come, Sir? <span class="ralign">[<i>Exit.</i></span><br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> Pray do not doubt.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> We are no Boys. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exit.</i></span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter a Gent. and 2 or 3 with Mony.</i></p> + +<p> +<i>Bor.</i> Well Sir.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Gent.</i> Here's mony from the Duke, and't please your Lordship.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> 'Tis well.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Gent.</i> How sowre the Souldiers look?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> Is't told?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Gent.</i> Yes, and for every company a double pay,<br /> +And the Dukes love to all.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Anc.</i> That's worth a Ducket.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> You that be Officers, see it discharg'd then,<br /> +Why do not you take it up?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Anc.</i> 'Tis too heavy:<br /> +'Body o'me, I have strain'd mine arm.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> Do ye scorn it?<br /> +<br /> +<a name="p103_l35" id="p103_l35"></a><i>Anc.</i> Has your Lor[d]ship any dice about ye? sit round Gentlemen,<br /> +And come on seven for my share.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Put.</i> Do you think Sir,<br /> +This is the end we fight? can this durt draw us<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span>To such a stupid tameness, that our service<br /> +Neglected, and look'd lamely on, and skew'd at<br /> +With a few honourable words, and this, is righted?<br /> +Have not we eyes and ears, to hear and see Sir,<br /> +And minds to understand the slights we carry?<br /> +I come home old, and full of hurts, men look on me<br /> +As if I had got 'em from a whore, and shun me;<br /> +I tell my griefs, and fear my wants, I am answer'd,<br /> +Alas 'tis pity! pray dine with me on Sunday:<br /> +These are the sores we are sick of, the minds maladies,<br /> +And can this cure 'em? you should have us'd us nobly,<br /> +And for our doing well, as well proclaim'd us<br /> +To the worlds eye, have shew'd and sainted us,<br /> +Then ye had paid us bravely: then we had shin'd Sir,<br /> +Not in this gilded stuff but in our glory:<br /> +You may take back your mony.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Gent.</i> This I fear'd still.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> Consider better Gentlemen.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Anc.</i> Thank your Lordship:<br /> +And now I'le put on my considering cap:<br /> +My Lord, that I am no Courtier, you may guess it<br /> +By having no sute to you for this mony:<br /> +For though I want, I want not this, nor shall not,<br /> +Whilst you want that civility to rank it<br /> +With those rights we expected; mony grows Sir,<br /> +And men must gather it, all is not put in one purse.<br /> +And that I am no Carter, I could never whistle yet:<br /> +But that I am a Souldier, and a Gentleman,<br /> +And a fine Gentleman, and't like your honour,<br /> +And a most pleasant companion: all you that are witty,<br /> +Come list to my ditty: come set in boyes,<br /> +With your Lordships patience. <span class="ralign">[<i>Song.</i></span><br /> +How do you like my Song, my Lord?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> Even as I like your self, but 'twould be a great deal better,<br /> +You would prove a great deal wiser, and take this mony,<br /> +In your own phrase I speak now Sir, and 'tis very well<br /> +You have learn'd to sing; for since you prove so liberal,<br /> +To refuse such means as this, maintain your voice still,<br /> +'Twill prove your best friend.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Anc.</i> 'Tis a singing age Sir,<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span>A merry moon here now: I'le follow it:<br /> +Fidling, and fooling now, gains more than fighting.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> What is't you blench at? what would you ask? speak freely.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Sol.</i> And so we dare: a triumph for the General,<br /> +<br /> +<i>Put.</i> And then an honour special to his vertue.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Anc.</i> That we may be prefer'd that have serv'd for it,<br /> +And cram'd up into favour like the worshipful,<br /> +At least upon the Cities charge made drunk<br /> +For one whole year; we have done 'em ten years service;<br /> +That we may enjoy our lechery without grudging,<br /> +And mine, or thine be nothing, all things equal,<br /> +And catch as catch may, be proclaim'd: that when we borrow,<br /> +And have no will to pay again, no Law<br /> +Lay hold upon us, nor no Court controule us.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> Some of these may come to pass; the Duke may do 'em,<br /> +And no doubt will: the General will find too,<br /> +And so will you, if you but stay with patience: I have no power.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Put.</i> Nor will: come fellow Souldiers.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> Pray be not so distrustfull.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Put.</i> There are waies yet,<br /> +And honest waies; we are not brought up Statues.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Anc.</i> If your Lordship<br /> +Have any silk stockings, that have holes i'th' heels,<br /> +Or ever an honourable Cassock that wants buttons,<br /> +I could have cur'd such maladies: your Lordships custome<br /> +And my good Ladies, if the bones want setting<br /> +In her old bodies—<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> This is disobedience.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Anc.</i> Eight pence a day, and hard Eggs.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Put.</i> Troop off Gentlemen,<br /> +Some Coin we have, whilst this lasts, or our credits,<br /> +We'l never sell our Generals worth for six-pence.<br /> +Ye are beholding to us.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Anc.</i> Fare ye well Sir,<br /> +And buy a pipe with that: do ye see this skarf Sir?<br /> +By this hand I'le cry Brooms in't, birchen Brooms Sir,<br /> +Before I eat one bit from your benevolence.<br /> +Now to our old occupations again.<br /> +By your leave Lord. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exeunt.</i></span><br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> You will bite when ye are sharper; take up the mony.<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span>This love I must remove, this fondness to him,<br /> +This tenderness of heart; I have lost my way else.<br /> +There is no sending man, they will not take it,<br /> +They are yet too full of pillage,<br /> +They'l dance for't ere't be long:<br /> +Come, bring it after.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> Duke.</p> + +<p> +<i>Duke.</i> How now, refus'd their mony?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> Very bravely,<br /> +And stand upon such terms 'tis terrible.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Duke.</i> Where's <i>Archas</i>?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> He's retir'd Sir, to his house,<br /> +According to your pleasure, full of dutie<br /> +To outward shew: but what within—<br /> +<br /> +<i>Duke.</i> Refuse it?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> Most confidently: 'tis not your revenues<br /> +<a name="p106_l16" id="p106_l16"></a>Can feed the[m] Sir, and yet they have found a General<br /> +That knows no ebbe of bountie: there they eat Sir,<br /> +And loath your invitations.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Duke.</i> 'Tis not possible,<br /> +He's poor as they.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> You'l find it otherwise.<br /> +Pray make your journey thither presently,<br /> +And as ye goe I'le open ye a wonder.<br /> +Good Sir this morning.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Duke.</i> Follow me, I'le doe it. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exeunt.</i></span><br /> +</p> + + +<h4>SCENA II.</h4> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> Olympia, Alinda, Burris, <i>and Gentlewomen</i>.</p> + +<p> +<i>Olym.</i> But do you think my Brother loves her?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bur.</i> Certain Madam,<br /> +He speaks much of her, and sometimes with wonder,<br /> +Oft wishes she were nobler born.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Olym.</i> Do you think him honest?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bur.</i> Your Grace is nearer to his heart, than I am,<br /> +Upon my life I hold him so.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Olym.</i> 'Tis a poor wench,<br /> +I would not have her wrong'd: methinks my Brother—<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span>But I must not give rules to his affections;<br /> +Yet if he weigh her worth—<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bur.</i> You need not fear Madam.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Olym.</i> I hope I shall not: Lord <i>Burris</i><br /> +I love her well; I know not, there is something<br /> +Makes me bestow more than a care upon her:<br /> +I do not like that ring from him to her;<br /> +I mean to women of her way, such tokens<br /> +Rather appear as baits, than royal bounties:<br /> +I would not have it so.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bur.</i> You will not find it,<br /> +Upon my troth I think his most ambition<br /> +Is but to let the world know h'as a handsom Mistris:<br /> +Will your grace command me any service to him?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Olym.</i> Remember all my duty.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bur.</i> Blessings crown ye:<br /> +What's your will Lady?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> Any thing that's honest;<br /> +<a name="p107_l18" id="p107_l18"></a>And if you think it fit, so poor a service,<br /> +Clad in a ragged vertue, may reach him,<br /> +I do beseech your Lordship speak it humbly.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bur.</i> Fair one I will: in the best phrase I have too,<br /> +And so I kiss your hand. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exit.</i></span><br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> Your Lordships Servant.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Olym.</i> Come hither wench, what art thou doing with that Ring?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> I am looking on the posie, Madam.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Olym.</i> What is't?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> The Jewel's set within.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Olym.</i> But where the joy wench,<br /> +When that invisible Jewel's lost? why dost thou smile so?<br /> +What unhappy meaning hast thou?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i>. Nothing Madam,<br /> +But only thinking what strange spells these Rings have,<br /> +And how they work with some.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Pet.</i> I fear with you too.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> This could not cost above a Crown.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Pet.</i> 'Twill cost you<br /> +The shaving of your crown, if not the washing.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Olym.</i> But he that sent it, makes the vertue greater;<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> I and the vice too Madam: goodness bless me:<br /> +How fit 'tis for my finger!<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span><br /> +<i>2 W.</i> No doubt you'l find too<br /> +A finger fit for you.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> Sirrah, <i>Petesca</i>,<br /> +What wilt thou give me for the good that follows this?<br /> +But thou hast Rings enough, thou art provided:<br /> +Heigh ho, what must I doe now?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Pet.</i> You'l be taught that,<br /> +The easiest part that e're you learn't, I warrant you.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> Ay me, ay me.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Pet.</i> You will divide too, shortly,<br /> +Your voice comes finely forward.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Olym.</i> Come hither wanton,<br /> +Thou art not surely as thou saist.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> I would not:<br /> +But sure there is a witchcraft in this Ring, Lady,<br /> +Lord how my heart leaps!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Pet.</i> 'Twill goe pit a pat shortly.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> And now methinks a thousand of the Dukes shapes.<br /> +<br /> +<i>2 W.</i> Will no less serve ye?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> In ten thousand smiles.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Olym.</i> Heaven bless the wench.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> With eyes that will not be deni'd to enter;<br /> +And such soft sweet embraces; take it from me,<br /> +I am undone else Madam: I'm lost else.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Olym.</i> What ailes the girle?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> How suddenly I'm alter'd!<br /> +And grown my self again! do not you feel it?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Olym.</i> Wear that, and I'le wear this:<br /> +I'le try the strength on't.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> How cold my bloud grows now!<br /> +Here's sacred vertue:<br /> +When I leave to honour this,<br /> +Every hour to pay a kiss,<br /> +When each morning I arise,<br /> +Or I forget a sacrifice:<br /> +When this figure in my faith,<br /> +And the pureness that it hath,<br /> +I pursue not with my will,<br /> +Nearer to arrive at still:<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span>When I lose, or change this Jewel,<br /> +Flie me faith, and heaven be cruel.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Olym.</i> You have half confirm'd me,<br /> +Keep but that way sure,<br /> +And what this charm can doe, let me endure. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exeunt.</i></span><br /> +</p> + + +<h4>SCENA III.</h4> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> Archas, Theodore, <i>2 Daughters</i> Honora <i>and</i> Viola.</p> + +<p> +<i>Ar.</i> Carry your self discreetly, it concerns me,<br /> +The Duke's come in, none of your froward passions,<br /> +Nor no distasts to any: Prethee <i>Theodor</i>,<br /> +By my life, boy, 'twill ruine me.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> I have done Sir,<br /> +So there be no foul play he brings along with him.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> What's that to you?<br /> +Let him bring what please him,<br /> +And whom, and how.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> So they mean well—<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> Is't fit you be a Judge sirrah?<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> 'Tis fit I feel Sir.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> Get a banquet ready,<br /> +And trim your selves up handsomly.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> To what end?<br /> +Do you mean to make 'em whores?<br /> +Hang up a sign then,<br /> +And set 'em out to Livery.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> Whose son art thou?<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> Yours Sir, I hope: but not of your disgraces.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> Full twenty thousand men I have commanded,<br /> +And all their minds, with this calm'd all their angers;<br /> +And shall a boy of mine own breed too, of mine own blood,<br /> +One crooked stick—<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> Pray take your way, and thrive in't,<br /> +I'le quit your house; if taint or black dishonour<br /> +Light on ye, 'tis your own, I have no share in't.<br /> +Yet if it do fall out so, as I fear it,<br /> +And partly find it too—<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> Hast thou no reverence?<br /> +No dutie in thee?<br /> +<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span><i>The.</i> This shall shew I obey ye:<br /> +I dare not stay: I would have shew'd my love too,<br /> +And that you ask as duty, with my life Sir,<br /> +Had you but thought me worthy of your hazards,<br /> +Which heaven preserve ye from, and keep the Duke too:<br /> +And there's an end of my wishes, God be with ye. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exit.</i></span><br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> Stubborn, yet full of that we all love, honesty.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> Burris.</p> + +<p> +Lord <i>Burris</i>, where's the Duke?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bur.</i> In the great chamber Sir,<br /> +And there stayes till he see you, ye 'have a fine house here.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> A poor contented lodge, unfit for his presence,<br /> +Yet all the joy it hath.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bur.</i> I hope a great one, and for your good, brave Sir.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> I thank ye Lord:<br /> +And now my service to the Duke.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bur.</i> I'le wait on ye. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exeunt.</i></span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> Duke, Boroskey, <i>Gent. and Attendants</i>.</p> + +<p> +<i>Duke.</i> May this be credited?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> Disgrace me else,<br /> +And never more with favour look upon me.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Duke.</i> It seems impossible.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> It cannot chuse Sir,<br /> +Till your own eyes behold it; but that it is so,<br /> +And that by this means the too haughtie Souldier<br /> +Has been so cramm'd and fed, he cares not for ye;<br /> +Believe, or let me perish: Let your eyes<br /> +As you observe the house, but where I point it,<br /> +Make stay, and take a view, and then you have found it.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> Archas, Burris, <i>2 Daughters, and Servant</i>.</p> + +<p> +<i>Du.</i> I'le follow your direction: welcome <i>Archas</i>,<br /> +You are welcome home brave Lord, we are come to visit ye,<br /> +And thank ye for your service.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> 'Twas so poor Sir,<br /> +In true respect of what I owe your Highness,<br /> +It merits nothing.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> Are these fair ones yours, Lord?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> Their Mother made me think so Sir.<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span><br /> +<i>Du.</i> Stand up Ladies:<br /> +Beshrew my heart they are fair ones; methinks fitter<br /> +The lustre of the Court, than thus live darken'd:<br /> +I would see your house Lord <i>Archas</i>, it appears to me<br /> +A handsom pile.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> 'Tis neat but no great structure;<br /> +I'le be your Graces guide, give me the keyes there.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> Lead on, we'l follow ye: begin with the Gallery,<br /> +I think that's one.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Arc.</i> 'Tis so, and't please ye, Sir,<br /> +The rest above are lodgings all.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> Go on, Sir. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exeunt.</i></span><br /> +</p> + + +<h4>SCENE IV.</h4> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> Theodore, Putskey, <i>and Ancient</i>.</p> + +<p> +<i>Puts.</i> The Duke gone thither, do you say?<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> Yes marry do I,<br /> +And all the Ducklings too; but what they'll do there—<br /> +<br /> +<i>Puts.</i> I hope they'll crown his service.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> With a Custard;<br /> +This is no weather for rewards: they crown his service?<br /> +Rather they go to shave his Crown: I was rated<br /> +As if I had been a Dog had worried Sheep, out of doors,<br /> +For making but a doubt.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Puts.</i> They must now grace him.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> Mark but the end.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Anc.</i> I am sure they should reward him, they cannot want him.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> They that want honesty, want any thing.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Puts.</i> The Duke is so noble in his own thoughts.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> That I grant ye,<br /> +If those might only sway him: but 'tis most certain,<br /> +So many new born Flies his light gave life to,<br /> +Buzze in his beams, Flesh-flies, and Butterflies,<br /> +Hornets, and humming Scarabs, that not one honey Bee<br /> +That's loaden with true labour, and brings home<br /> +Encrease and Credit, can 'scape rifling,<br /> +And what she sucks for sweet, they turn to bitterness.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Anc.</i> Shall we go see what they do, and talk our mind to 'em?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Puts.</i> That we have done too much, and to no purpose.<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span><br /> +<i>Anc.</i> Shall we be hang'd for him?<br /> +I have a great mind to be hang'd now<br /> +For doing some brave thing for him; a worse end will take me,<br /> +And for an action of no worth; not honour him?<br /> +Upon my Conscience, even the Devil, the very Devil<br /> +(Not to belie him) thinks him an honest man,<br /> +I am sure he has sent him souls any time these twenty years,<br /> +<a name="p112_l8" id="p112_l8"></a>Able to furnish all his Fish-markets.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> Leave thy talking,<br /> +And come, let's go to dinner and drink to him,<br /> +We shall hear more ere supper time: if he be honour'd,<br /> +He has deserv'd it well, and we shall fight for't:<br /> +If he be ruin'd, so, we know the worst then,<br /> +And for my self, I'll meet it.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Puts.</i> I ne'r fear it. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exeunt.</i></span><br /> +</p> + + +<h4>SCENE V.</h4> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter Duke</i>, Archas, Boroskey, Burris, <i>Gentlemen, and +Attendants</i>.</p> + +<p> +<i>Du.</i> They are handsome rooms all, well contriv'd and fitted,<br /> +Full of convenience, the prospect's excellent.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Arc.</i> Now will your Grace pass down, and do me but the honour<br /> +To taste a Countrey Banquet?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> What room's that?<br /> +I would see all now; what conveyance has it?<br /> +I see you have kept the best part yet; pray open it.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Arc.</i> Ha! I misdoubted this: 'tis of no receipt, Sir,<br /> +For your eyes most unfit—<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i>I long to see it,<br /> +<a name="p112_l28" id="p112_l28"></a>Because I would judge of the whole piece: some excellent painting,<br /> +Or some rare spoils you would keep to entertain me<br /> +Another time, I know.<br /> +<br /> +<a name="p112_l32" id="p112_l32"></a><i>A</i>[<i>r</i>]<i>c.</i> In troth there is not,<br /> +Nor any thing worth your sight; below I have<br /> +Some Fountains, and some Ponds.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> I would see this now.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> <i>Boroskie</i>, thou art a Knave; it contains nothing<br /> +But rubbish from the other rooms and unnecessaries:<br /> +Will't please you see a strange Clock?<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span><br /> +<i>Du.</i> This or nothing: <span class="ralign">[<i>Little Trunk ready.</i></span><br /> +Why should you bar it up thus with defences<br /> +Above the rest, unless it contain'd something<br /> +More excellent, and curious of keeping?<br /> +Open't, for I will see it.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Arc.</i> The Keys are lost, Sir:<br /> +Does your Grace think if it were fit for you,<br /> +I could be so unmannerly?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> I will see it, and either shew it—<br /> +<br /> +<i>Arc.</i> Good Sir—<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> Thank ye, <i>Archas</i>,<br /> +You shew your love abundantly,<br /> +Do I use to entreat thus? force it open.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bur.</i> That were inhospitable; you are his Guest, Sir,<br /> +And with his greatest joy, to entertain ye.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> Hold thy peace, Fool; will ye open it?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Arc.</i> Sir, I cannot.<br /> +I must not if I could.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> Go, break it open.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Arc.</i> I must withstand that force: Be not too rash, Gentlemen.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> Unarm him first, then if he be not obstinate<br /> +Preserve his life.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Arc.</i> I thank your Grace, I take it;<br /> +And now take you the Keys, go in, and see, Sir;<br /> +There feed your eyes with wonder, and thank that Traytor,<br /> +That thing that sells his faith for favour. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exit Duke.</i></span><br /> +<br /> +<i>Bur.</i> Sir, what moves ye?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Arc.</i> I have kept mine pure: Lord <i>Burris</i>, there's a <i>Judas</i>,<br /> +That for a smile will sell ye all: a Gentleman?<br /> +<a name="p113_l30" id="p113_l30"></a>The Devil has more truth, and has maintain'd it;<br /> +A Whores heart more belief in't.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter Duke.</i></p> + +<p> +<i>Du.</i> What's all this, <i>Archas</i>?<br /> +<a name="p113_l34" id="p113_l34"></a>I cannot blame you to conceal it so,<br /> +This most inestimable Treasure.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> Yours Sir.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> Nor do I wonder now the Souldier sleights me.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Arc.</i> Be not deceiv'd; he has had no favour here, Sir,<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span>Nor had you known this now, but for that Pick-thank,<br /> +The lost man in his faith, he has reveal'd it,<br /> +To suck a little honey from ye has betray'd it.<br /> +I swear he smiles upon me, and forsworn too,<br /> +Thou crackt, uncurrant Lord: I'll tell ye all, Sir:<br /> +Your Sire, before his death, knowing your temper,<br /> +To be as bounteous as the air, and open,<br /> +As flowing as the Sea to all that follow'd ye,<br /> +Your great mind fit for War and Glory, thriftily<br /> +Like a great Husband to preserve your actions,<br /> +Collected all this treasure; to our trusts,<br /> +To mine I mean, and to that long-tongu'd Lord's there,<br /> +He gave the knowledg and the charge of all this,<br /> +Upon his death-Bed too: And on the Sacrament<br /> +He swore us thus, never to let this Treasure<br /> +Part from our secret keepings, till no hope<br /> +Of Subject could relieve ye, all your own wasted,<br /> +No help of those that lov'd ye could supply ye,<br /> +And then some great exploit a foot; my honesty<br /> +I would have kept till I had made this useful;<br /> +I shew'd it, and I stood it to the tempest,<br /> +And useful to the end 'twas left: I am cozen'd,<br /> +And so are you too, if you spend this vainly;<br /> +This Worm that crept into ye has abus'd ye,<br /> +Abus'd your fathers care, abus'd his Faith too:<br /> +Nor can this mass of money make him man more,<br /> +A flea'd Dog has more soul, an Ape more honesty;<br /> +All mine ye have amongst it, farewel that,<br /> +I cannot part with't nobler; my heart's clear,<br /> +My Conscience smooth as that, no rub upon't:<br /> +But O thy Hell!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> I seek no Heaven from you, Sir.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Arc.</i> Thy gnawing Hell, <i>Boroskey</i>, it will find thee:<br /> +Would ye heap Coals upon his head has wrong'd ye,<br /> +<a name="p114_l34" id="p114_l34"></a>Has ruin'd your estate? give him this money,<br /> +Melt it into his mouth.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> What little Trunk's that?<br /> +That there o'th' top, that's lockt?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> You'll find it rich, Sir,<br /> +Richer I think than all.<br /> +<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span><i>Arc.</i> You were not covetous,<br /> +Nor wont to weave your thoughts with such a courseness;<br /> +Pray rack not Honesty.<br /> +<br /> +<a name="p115_l3" id="p115_l3"></a><i>Bor.</i> Be sure you see it.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> Bring out the Trunk.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter with the Trunk.</i></p> + +<p> +<i>Arc.</i> You'll find that treasure too,<br /> +All I have left me now.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> What's this, a poor Gown?<br /> +And this a piece of <i>Seneca</i>?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Arc.</i> Yes sure, Sir,<br /> +More worth than all your Gold, yet ye have enough on't,<br /> +And of a Mine far purer, and more precious;<br /> +This sells no friends, nor searches into counsels,<br /> +And yet all counsel, and all friends live here, Sir;<br /> +Betrays no Faith, yet handles all that's trusty:<br /> +Will't please you leave me this?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> With all my heart, Sir.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> What says your Lordship to't?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> I dare not rob ye.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Arc.</i> Poor miserable men, you have rob'd your selves both;<br /> +This Gown, and this unvalu'd Treasure, your brave Father,<br /> +Found me a Child at School with, in his progress.<br /> +Where such a love he took to some few answers,<br /> +Unhappy Boyish toys hit in my head then,<br /> +That suddenly I made him, thus as I was,<br /> +(For here was all the Wealth I brought his Highness)<br /> +He carried me to Court, there bred me up,<br /> +<a name="p115_l28" id="p115_l28"></a>Bestow'd his favours on me, taught me the Arms first,<br /> +With those an honest mind; I serv'd him truly,<br /> +And where he gave me trust, I think I fail'd not;<br /> +Let the World speak: I humbly thank your Highness,<br /> +You have done more, and nobler, eas'd mine age, Sir;<br /> +And to this care a fair <i>Quietus</i> given,<br /> +Now to my Book again.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> You have your wish, Sir,<br /> +Let some bring off the treasure.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> Some is his, Sir.<br /> +<br /> +<a name="p115_l38" id="p115_l38"></a><i>Arc.</i> None, none, a poor unworthy reaper,<br /> +The Harvest is his Graces.<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span><br /> +<a name="p116_l1" id="p116_l1"></a><i>Du.</i> Thank you, <i>Archas</i>.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Arc.</i> But will not you repent, Lord? when this is gone<br /> +Where will your Lordship?—<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> Pray take you no care, Sir.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Arc.</i> Does your Grace like my House?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> Wondrous well, <i>Archas</i>,<br /> +You have made me richly welcome.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Arc.</i> I did my best, Sir.<br /> +Is there any thing else may please your Grace?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> Your Daughters<br /> +I had forgot, send them to Court.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Arc.</i> How's that, Sir?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> I said your Daughters; see it done: I'll have 'em<br /> +Attend my Sister, <i>Archas</i>.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Arc.</i> Thank your Highness.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> And suddenly. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exit.</i></span><br /> +<br /> +<i>Arc.</i> Through all the ways I dare,<br /> +<a name="p116_l18" id="p116_l18"></a>I'll serve your temper, though you try me far. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exit.</i></span><br /> +</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 15%;" /> +<h3><i>Actus Tertius. Scena Prima.</i></h3> + + +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> Theodore, Putskey, <i>Ancient and Servant</i>.</p> + +<p> +<i>The.</i> I wonder we hear no news.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Puts.</i> Here's your fathers servant,<br /> +He comes in haste too, now we shall know all, Sir.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> How now?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ser.</i> I am glad I have met you, Sir; your father<br /> +Intreats you presently make haste unto him.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> What news?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ser.</i> None of the best, Sir, I am asham'd to tell it,<br /> +Pray ask no more.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> Did not I tell ye, Gentlemen?<br /> +<a name="p116_l31" id="p116_l31"></a>Did not I prophesie? he's undone then.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ser.</i> Not so, Sir, but as near it—<br /> +<br /> +<i>Puts.</i> There's no help now;<br /> +The Army's scatter'd all, through discontent,<br /> +Not to be rallied up in haste to help this.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Anc.</i> Plague of the Devil; have ye watch'd your seasons?<br /> +We shall watch you ere long.<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span><br /> +<i>The.</i> Farewel, there's no cure,<br /> +We must endure all now: I know what I'll do. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exeunt</i> Theodore <i>and Servant</i>.</span><br /> +<br /> +<i>Puts.</i> Nay, there's no striving, they have a hand upon us,<br /> +A heavy and a hard one.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Anc.</i> Now I have it,<br /> +We have yet some Gentlemen, some Boys of mettle,<br /> +(What, are we bob'd thus still, colted, and carted?)<br /> +And one mad trick we'll have to shame these Vipers;<br /> +Shall I bless 'em?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Puts.</i> Farewel; I have thought my way too. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exit.</i></span><br /> +<br /> +<i>Anc.</i> Were never such rare Cries in Christendome,<br /> +As <i>Mosco</i> shall afford: we'll live by fooling<br /> +Now fighting's gone, and they shall find and feel it. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exit.</i></span><br /> +</p> + + +<h4>SCENE II.</h4> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> Archas, Honora, <i>and</i> Viola.</p> + +<p> +<i>Ar.</i> No more, it must be so; do you think I would send ye,<br /> +Your father and your friend—<br /> +<br /> +<i>Viol.</i> Pray Sir, be good to us,<br /> +Alas, we know no Court, nor seek that knowledge;<br /> +<a name="p117_l21" id="p117_l21"></a>We are content with harmless things at home,<br /> +Children of your content, bred up in quiet,<br /> +Only to know our selves, to seek a Wisedome<br /> +From that we understand, easie and honest;<br /> +To make our actions worthy of your Honour,<br /> +Their ends as innocent as we begot 'em;<br /> +What shall we look for Sir, what shall we learn there,<br /> +That this more private sweetness cannot teach us?<br /> +Vertue was never built upon ambition,<br /> +Nor the Souls Beauties bred out of Bravery:<br /> +What a terrible Father would you seem to us,<br /> +Now you have moulded us, and wrought our tempers<br /> +To easie and obedient ways, uncrooked,<br /> +Where the fair mind can never lose nor loiter,<br /> +Now to divert our Natures, now to stem us<br /> +Roughly against the tide of all this treasure?<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span>Would ye have us proud? 'tis sooner bred than buried;<br /> +Wickedly proud? for such things dwell at Court, Sir.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Hon.</i> Would ye have your Children learn to forget their father,<br /> +And when he dies dance on his Monument?<br /> +Shall we seek Vertue in a Sattin Gown;<br /> +Embroider'd Vertue? Faith in a well-curl'd Feather?<br /> +And set our Credits to the tune of green sleeves?<br /> +This may be done; and if you like, it shall be.<br /> +You should have sent us thither when we were younger,<br /> +Our maiden-heads at a higher rate; our Innocence<br /> +Able to make a Mart indeed: we are now too old, Sir,<br /> +Perhaps they'll think too cunning too, and slight us;<br /> +Besides, we are altogether unprovided,<br /> +Unfurnisht utterly of the rules should guide us:<br /> +This Lord comes, licks his hand, and protests to me;<br /> +Compares my Beauty to a thousand fine things;<br /> +Mountains, and Fountains, Trees, and Stars, and Goblins;<br /> +<a name="p118_l17" id="p118_l17"></a>Now have not I the faith for to believe him;<br /> +He offers me the honourable courtesie,<br /> +To lye with me all night, what a misery is this?<br /> +I am bred up so foolishly, alas, I dare not,<br /> +And how madly these things will shew there.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Arc.</i> I send ye not,<br /> +Like parts infected, to draw more corruption;<br /> +Like Spiders to grow great, with growing evil:<br /> +With your own Vertues season'd, and my prayers,<br /> +The Card of goodness in your minds, that shows ye<br /> +When ye sail false; the needle toucht with honour,<br /> +That through the blackest storms, still points at happiness;<br /> +Your Bodies the tall barks, rib'd round with goodness,<br /> +Your Heavenly Souls the Pilots, thus I send you;<br /> +Thus I prepare your Voyage; sound before ye,<br /> +And ever as you sail through this Worlds Vanity,<br /> +Discover Sholes, Rocks, Quicksands, cry out to ye,<br /> +Like a good Master tack about for Honour:<br /> +The Court is Vertue's School, at least it should be;<br /> +Nearer the Sun the Mine lies, the metal's purer:<br /> +Be it granted, if the spring be once infected,<br /> +Those Branches that flow from him must run muddy;<br /> +Say you find some Sins there, and those no small ones,<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span>And they like lazie fits begin to shake ye:<br /> +Say they affect your strengths, my happy Children,<br /> +Great things through greatest hazards are atchiev'd still,<br /> +And then they shine, then goodness has his glory,<br /> +His Crown fast rivetted, then time moves under,<br /> +Where, through the mist of errors, like the Sun,<br /> +Through thick and pitchy Clouds, he breaks out nobly.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Hon.</i> I thank you Sir, you have made me half a Souldier,<br /> +I will to Court most willingly, most fondly.<br /> +And if there be such stirring things amongst 'em,<br /> +Such Travellers into <i>Virginia</i><br /> +As Fame reports, if they can win me, take me;<br /> +I think I have a close Ward, and a sure one;<br /> +An honest mind I hope, 'tis petticoat-proof,<br /> +Chain-proof, and Jewel-proof; I know 'tis Gold-proof,<br /> +A Coach and four Horses cannot draw me from it:<br /> +As for your handsome Faces, and filed Tongues,<br /> +Curl'd Millers heads, I have another word for them,<br /> +And yet I'll flatter too, as fast as they do,<br /> +And lye, but not as lewdly; Come, be valiant, Sister,<br /> +She that dares not stand the push o'th' Court, dares nothing,<br /> +<a name="p119_l21" id="p119_l21"></a>And yet come off ungraced: Sir, like you,<br /> +We both affect great dangers now, and the World shall see<br /> +All glory lies not in Mans Victorie.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Arc.</i> Mine own <i>Honora</i>.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Viol.</i> I am very fearful,<br /> +Would I were stronger built: you would have me honest?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Arc.</i> Or not at all my <i>Viola</i>.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Viol.</i> I'll think on't,<br /> +For 'tis no easie promise, and live there:<br /> +Do you think we shall do well?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Hon.</i> Why, what should aile us?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Viol.</i> Certain they'll tempt us strongly; beside the glory<br /> +Which Women may affect, they are handsom Gentlemen,<br /> +Every part speaks: nor is it one denial,<br /> +Nor two, nor ten; from every look we give 'em,<br /> +They'll frame a hope; even from our prayers, promises.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Hon.</i> Let 'em feed so, and be fat; there is no fear, wench,<br /> +<a name="p119_l38" id="p119_l38"></a>I[f] thou beest fast to thy self.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Viol.</i> I hope I shall be;<br /> +And your example will work more.<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> Theodore.</p> + +<p> +<i>Hon.</i> Thou shalt not want it.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> How do you, Sir? can you lend a man an Angel?<br /> +I hear you let out money.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Arc.</i> Very well, Sir,<br /> +You are pleasantly dispos'd: I am glad to see it.<br /> +Can you lend me your patience, and be rul'd by me?<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> Is't come to patience now?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Arc.</i> Is't not a Vertue?<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> I know not: I ne'r found it so.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Arc.</i> That's because<br /> +Thy anger ever knows, and not thy judgment.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> I know you have been rifl'd.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Arc.</i> Nothing less, Boy;<br /> +Lord, what opinions these vain People publish!<br /> +Rifl'd of what?<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> Study your Vertue, Patience,<br /> +It may get Mustard to your Meat. Why in such haste, Sir,<br /> +Sent ye for me?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Arc.</i> For this end only, <i>Theodore</i>,<br /> +To wait upon your Sisters to the Court;<br /> +I am commanded they live there.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> To th' Court, Sir?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Arc.</i> To th' Court I say.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> And must I wait upon 'em?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Arc.</i> Yes, 'tis most fit you should, you are their Brother.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> Is this the business? I had thought your mind, Sir,<br /> +Had been set forward on some noble action,<br /> +Something had truly stir'd ye. To th' Court with these?<br /> +Why, they are your Daughters, Sir.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Arc.</i> All this I know, Sir.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> The good old Woman on a Bed he threw:<br /> +To th' Court?<br /> +<br /> +<a name="p120_l34" id="p120_l34"></a><i>Arc.</i> Thou art mad.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> Nor drunk as you are:<br /> +Drunk with your duty, Sir: do you call it duty?<br /> +A pox of duty, what can these do there?<br /> +What should they do? Can ye look Babies, Sisters,<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span>In the young Gallants eyes, and twirl their Band-strings?<br /> +Can ye ride out to air your selves? Pray Sir,<br /> +Be serious with me, do you speak this truly?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Arc.</i> Why, didst thou never hear of Women<br /> +Yet at Court, Boy?<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> Yes, and good Women too, very good Women,<br /> +Excellent honest Women: but are you sure, Sir,<br /> +That these will prove so?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Hon.</i> There's the danger, Brother.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> God-a-mercy Wench, thou hast a grudging of it.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Arc.</i> Now be you serious, Sir, and observe what I say,<br /> +Do it, and do it handsomly; go with 'em.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> With all my heart, Sir; I am in no fault now;<br /> +If they be thought Whores for being in my Company;<br /> +Pray write upon their Backs, they are my Sisters,<br /> +And where I shall deliver 'em.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Arc.</i> Ye are wondrous jocund,<br /> +But prithee tell me, art thou so lewd a Fellow?<br /> +I never knew thee fail a truth.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> I am a Souldier,<br /> +And spell you what that means.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Arc.</i> A Souldier?<br /> +What dost thou make of me?<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> Your Palate's down, Sir.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Arc.</i> I thank ye, Sir.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> Come, shall we to this matter?<br /> +You will to Court?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Hon.</i> If you will please to honour us.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> I'll honour ye, I warrant; I'll set ye off<br /> +With such a lustre, Wenches; alas poor <i>Viola</i>,<br /> +Thou art a fool, thou criest for eating white bread:<br /> +Be a good Huswife of thy tears, and save 'em,<br /> +Thou wilt have time enough to shed 'em, Sister.<br /> +Do you weep too? nay, then I'll fool no more.<br /> +Come worthy Sisters, since it must be so,<br /> +And since he thinks it fit to try your Vertues,<br /> +Be you as strong to truth, as I to guard ye,<br /> +And this old Gentleman shall have joy of ye. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exeunt.</i></span><br /> +</p> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span></p> +<h4>SCENE III.</h4> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter Duke, and</i> Burris.</p> + +<p> +<i>Du.</i> <i>Burris</i> take you ten thousand of those Crowns,<br /> +And those two Chains of Pearl they hold the richest,<br /> +I give 'em ye.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bur.</i> I humbly thank your Grace;<br /> +And may your great example work in me<br /> +That noble Charity to men more worthy,<br /> +And of more wants.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> You bear a good mind, <i>Burris</i>;<br /> +Take twenty thousand now: be not so modest,<br /> +It shall be so, I give 'em: go, there's my ring for't.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bur.</i> Heaven bless your Highness ever. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exit.</i></span><br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> You are honest.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> Alinda, <i>and</i> Putskey <i>at door</i>.</p> + +<p> +<i>Put.</i> They're coming now to Court, as fair as vertue:<br /> +Two brighter Stars ne'er rose here.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Alin.</i> Peace, I have it,<br /> +And what my Art can do; the Duke—<br /> +<br /> +<i>Put.</i> I am gone,<br /> +Remember. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exit.</i></span><br /> +<br /> +<i>Alin.</i> I am counsell'd to the full, Sir.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Duke.</i> My pretty Mistris, whither lyes your business?<br /> +How kindly I should take this, were it to me now?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Alin.</i> I must confess immediately to your Grace,<br /> +At this time.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Duke.</i> You have no address, I do believe ye,<br /> +I would ye had.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Alin.</i> 'Twere too much boldness, Sir,<br /> +Upon so little knowledge, less deserving.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Duke.</i> You'll make a perfect Courtier.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Alin.</i> A very poor one.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Duke.</i> A very fair one, sweet; come hither to me.<br /> +What killing eyes this Wench has! in his glory<br /> +Not the bright Sun, when the <i>Sirian</i> Star reigns,<br /> +Shines half so fiery.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Alin.</i> Why does your Grace so view me?<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span>Nothing but common handsomness dwells here, Sir,<br /> +Scarce that: your Grace is pleas'd to mock my meanness.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Duke.</i> Thou shalt not go: I do not lie unto thee,<br /> +In my eye thou appear'st—<br /> +<br /> +<i>Alin.</i> Dim not the sight, Sir,<br /> +I am too dull an object.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Duke.</i> Canst thou love me?<br /> +Canst thou love him will honour thee?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Alin.</i> I can love,<br /> +And love as you do too: but 'twill not shew well:<br /> +Or if it do shew here where all light lustres,<br /> +Tinsel affections make a glorious glistering,<br /> +'Twill halt i'th' handsom way.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Duke.</i> Are ye so cunning?<br /> +Dost think I love not truly?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Alin.</i> No, ye cannot,<br /> +You never travel'd that way yet: pray pardon me,<br /> +I prate so boldly to you.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Duke.</i> There's no harm done:<br /> +But what's your reason, sweet?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Alin.</i> I would tell your Grace,<br /> +But happily—<br /> +<br /> +<i>Duke.</i> It shall be pleasing to me.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Alin.</i> I should love you again, and then you would hate me.<br /> +With all my service I should follow ye,<br /> +And through all dangers.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Duke.</i> This would more provoke me,<br /> +More make me see thy worths,<br /> +More make me meet 'em.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Alin.</i> You should do so, if ye did well and truly:<br /> +But though ye be a Prince, and have power in ye,<br /> +Power of example too, ye have fail'd and falter'd.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Duke.</i> Give me example where?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Alin.</i> You had a Mistris,<br /> +Oh Heaven, so bright, so brave a dame, so lovely,<br /> +In all her life so true!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Duke.</i> A Mistris?<br /> +<br /> +<a name="p123_l37" id="p123_l37"></a><i>Alin.</i> That serv'd you with that constancy, that care,<br /> +That lov'd your will, and woo'd it too.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Duke.</i> What Mistris?<br /> +<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span><i>Alin.</i> That nurs'd your honour up, held fast your vertue,<br /> +And when she kist encreas'd, not stole your goodness.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Duke.</i> And I neglected her?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Alin.</i> Lost her, forsook her,<br /> +Wantonly flung her off.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Duke.</i> What was her name?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Alin.</i> Her name as lovely as her self, as noble,<br /> +And in it all that's excellent.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Duke.</i> What was it?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Alin.</i> Her name was <i>Beau-desert</i>:<br /> +Do you know her now, Sir?<br /> +<br /> +<a name="p124_l11" id="p124_l11"></a><i>Duke.</i> <i>Beau-desert</i>? I do not remember—<br /> +<br /> +<i>Alin.</i> I know you do not;<br /> +Yet she has a plainer name; Lord <i>Archas</i> service;<br /> +Do you yet remember her? there was a Mistris<br /> +<a name="p124_l15" id="p124_l15"></a>Fairer than Woman, far fonder to you, Sir,<br /> +Than Mothers to their first-born joyes: Can you love?<br /> +Dare you profess that truth to me a stranger,<br /> +A thing of no regard, no name, no lustre,<br /> +When your most noble love you have neglected,<br /> +A beauty all the world would woo and honour?<br /> +<a name="p124_l21" id="p124_l21"></a>Would you have me credit this? think you can love me,<br /> +And hold ye constant, when I have read this story?<br /> +Is't possible you should ever favour me,<br /> +To a slight pleasure prove a friend, and fast too,<br /> +When, where you were most ty'd, most bound to benefit,<br /> +Bound by the chains of honesty and honour,<br /> +You have broke and boldly too? I am a weak one,<br /> +Arm'd only with my fears: I beseech your Grace<br /> +Tempt me no further.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> Who taught you this Lesson?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Alin.</i> Woful experience, Sir: if you seek a fair one,<br /> +Worthy your love, if yet you have that perfect,<br /> +Two Daughters of his ruin'd vertue now<br /> +Arrive at Court, excellent fair indeed, Sir,<br /> +But this will be the Plague on't, they're excellent honest.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> Olympia <i>and</i> Petesca <i>privately</i>.</p> + +<p> +<i>Du.</i> I love thy face.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Alin.</i> Upon my life ye cannot:<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span>I do not love it my self, Sir, 'tis a lewd one,<br /> +<a name="p125_l1" id="p125_l1"></a>So truly ill Art cannot mend it; but if 'twere handsome,<br /> +At least if I thought so, you should hear me talk, Sir,<br /> +In a new strain; and though ye are a Prince,<br /> +Make ye Petition to me too, and wait my answers;<br /> +Yet o' my Conscience I should pity ye,<br /> +After some ten years siege.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> Prethee do now.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Alin.</i> What would ye do?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> Why I would lye with ye.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Alin.</i> I do not think ye would.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> In troth I would Wench.<br /> +Here, take this Jewel.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Alin.</i> Out upon't, that's scurvy.<br /> +Nay, if we do, sure we'll do for good fellowship,<br /> +For pure love, or nothing: thus you shall be sure, Sir,<br /> +You shall not pay too dear for't.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> Sure I cannot.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Alin.</i> By'r Lady but ye may: when ye have found me able<br /> +To do your work well, ye may pay my wages.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Pet.</i> Why does your Grace start back?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Olym.</i> I ha' seen that shakes me:<br /> +Chills all my bloud: O where is faith or goodness?<br /> +<i>Alinda</i> thou art false, false, false thou fair one,<br /> +<a name="p125_l24" id="p125_l24"></a>Wickedness false; and (wo is me) I see it.<br /> +For ever false.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Pet.</i> I am glad 't has taken thus right. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exeunt.</i></span><br /> +<br /> +<i>Alin.</i> I'le go ask my Lady, Sir.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> What?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Alin.</i> Whether I shall lye with ye, or no: If I find her willing—<br /> +For look ye Sir, I have sworn, while I am in her service—<br /> +('Twas a rash Oath I must confess.)<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> Thou mockst me.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Alin.</i> Why, would ye lye with me, if I were willing?<br /> +Would you abuse my weakness?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> I would piece it,<br /> +And make it stronger.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Alin.</i> I humbly thank your highness,<br /> +When you piece me, you must piece me to my Coffin:<br /> +When you have got my Maiden-head, I take it,<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span>'Tis not an inch of an Apes tail will restore it,<br /> +I love ye, and I honour ye, but this way<br /> +I'le neither love nor serve ye.<br /> +Heaven change your mind, Sir. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exit.</i></span><br /> +<br /> +<i>Duke.</i> And thine too:<br /> +For it must be chang'd, it shall be. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exit.</i></span><br /> +</p> + + +<h4>SCENE IV.</h4> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> Boroskie, Burris, Theodore, Viola <i>and</i> Honora.</p> + +<p> +<i>Bor.</i> They are goodly Gentlewomen.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bur.</i> They are,<br /> +Wondrous sweet Women both.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Theo.</i> Does your Lordship like 'em?<br /> +They are my Sisters, Sir; good lusty Lasses,<br /> +They'll do their labour well, I warrant ye,<br /> +You'll find no Bed-straw here, Sir.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Hon.</i> Thank ye Brother.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> This is not so strongly built: but she is good mettle,<br /> +Of a good stirring strain too: she goes tith, Sir.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter two Gentlemen.</i></p> + +<p> +Here they be, Gentlemen, must make ye merry,<br /> +The toyes you wot of: do you like their complexions?<br /> +They be no Moors: what think ye of this hand, Gentlemen?<br /> +Here's a white Altar for your sacrifice:<br /> +A thousand kisses here. Nay, keep off yet Gentlemen,<br /> +Let's start first, and have fair play: what would ye give now<br /> +To turn the Globe up, and find the rich <i>Moluccas</i>?<br /> +To pass the straights? here (do ye itch) by S<sup>t</sup> <i>Nicholas</i>,<br /> +Here's that will make ye scratch and claw,<br /> +Claw my fine Gentlemen, move ye in divers sorts:<br /> +Pray ye let me request ye, to forget<br /> +To say your prayers, whilest these are Courtiers;<br /> +Or if ye needs will think of Heaven, let it be no higher<br /> +Than their eyes.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> How will ye have 'em bestow'd, Sir?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Theo.</i> Even how your Lordship please,<br /> +So you do not bake 'em.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> Bake 'em?<br /> +<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span><i>Theo.</i> They are too high a meat that way, they run to gelly.<br /> +But if you'll have 'em for your own diet, take my counsel,<br /> +Stew 'em between two Feather-beds.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bur.</i> Please you Colonel<br /> +To let 'em wait upon the Princess?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Theo.</i> Yes, Sir,<br /> +And thank your honour too: but then happily,<br /> +These noble Gentlemen shall have no access to 'em,<br /> +And to have 'em buy new Cloaths, study new faces,<br /> +And keep a stinking stir with themselves for nothing,<br /> +'Twill not be well i'faith: they have kept their bodies,<br /> +And been at charge for Bathes: do you see that shirt there?<br /> +Weigh but the moral meaning, 'twill be grievous:<br /> +Alas, I brought 'em to delight these Gentlemen,<br /> +I weigh their wants by mine: I brought 'em wholesome,<br /> +Wholesome, and young my Lord, and two such blessings<br /> +<a name="p127_l16" id="p127_l16"></a>They will not light upon again in ten years.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> 'Tis fit they wait upon her.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Theo.</i> They are fit for any thing:<br /> +They'll wait upon a man, they are not bashful,<br /> +Carry his Cloak, or unty his points, or any thing,<br /> +Drink drunk, and take Tobacco; the familiar'st fools—<br /> +This wench will leap over Stools too, and sound a Trumpet,<br /> +Wrastle, and pitch the Bar; they are finely brought up.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> Ladies, ye are bound to your Brother,<br /> +And have much cause to thank him:<br /> +I'le ease ye of this charge, and to the Princess,<br /> +So please you, I'le attend 'em.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Theo.</i> Thank your Lordship:<br /> +If there be e're a private corner as ye go, Sir,<br /> +A foolish lobbie out o'th' way, make danger,<br /> +Try what they are, try—<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> Ye are a merry Gentleman.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> I would fain be your honours kinsman.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> Ye are too curst, Sir.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> Farewel wenches, keep close your ports, y'are washt else.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Hon.</i> Brother, bestow your fears where they are needful. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exit</i> Boros. Honor. Viol.</span><br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> <i>Honor</i> thy name is, and I hope thy Nature.<br /> +Go after, Gentlemen, go, get a snatch if you can,<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span>Yond' old <i>Erra Pater</i> will never please 'em.<br /> +Alas I brought 'em for you, but see the luck on't,<br /> +I swear I meant as honestly toward ye—<br /> +Nay do not cry good Gentlemen: a little counsel<br /> +Will do no harm: they'll walk abroad i'th' Evenings,<br /> +Ye may surprize 'em easily, they wear no Pistols.<br /> +Set down your minds in Metre, flowing Metre,<br /> +And get some good old linnen Woman to deliver it,<br /> +That has the trick on't: you cannot fail:<br /> +<a name="p128_l9" id="p128_l9"></a>Farewel Gentlemen. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exeunt Gent.</i></span><br /> +<br /> +<i>Bur.</i> You have frighted off these flesh-flies.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> Flesh-flies indeed my Lord.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter a Servant.</i></p> + +<p> +And it must be very stinking flesh they will not seize on.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Serv.</i> Your Lordship bid me bring this Casket.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bur.</i> Yes, Good Colonel<br /> +Commend me to your worthy Father, and as a pledge<br /> +He ever holds my love, and service to him,<br /> +Deliver him this poor, but hearty token,<br /> +And where I may be his—<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> Ye are too noble;<br /> +A wonder here my Lord, that dare be honest,<br /> +When all men hold it vitious: I shall deliver it,<br /> +And with it your most noble love. Your servant. <span class="ralign">[<i>Ex.</i> Bur.</span><br /> +Were there but two more such at Court, 'twere Sainted,<br /> +This will buy Brawn this Christmas yet, and Muscadine. <span class="ralign">[<i>Ex.</i></span><br /> +</p> + + +<h4>SCENE V.</h4> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter Ancient, crying Brooms, and after him severally, +four Souldiers, crying other things.</i> Boroskie +<i>and Gent, over the Stage observing them</i>.</p> + + +<p class="center1">I. SONG.</p> + +<p> +Anc. <i>Broom, Broom, the bonnie Broom,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Come buy my Birchen Broom,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I'th' Wars we have no more room,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Buy all my bonnie Broom,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">For a kiss take two;</span><br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 2em;">If those will not do,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">For a little, little pleasure,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Take all my whole treasure:</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">If all these will not do't,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Take the Broom-man to boot.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Broom, Broom, the bonnie Broom.</span><br /> +</i></p> + + +<p class="center1">II. SONG.</p> + +<p> +1 Soul. <i>The Wars are done and gone,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">And Souldiers now neglected, Pedlers are,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Come Maidens, come alone,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">For I can show you handsome, handsome ware;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Powders for, for the head,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">And drinks for your bed,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">To make ye blith and bonney.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">As well in the night we Souldiers can fight,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">And please a young wench as any.</span><br /> +</i><br /> +2 Soul. <i>I have fine Potato's,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Ripe Potato's.</span><br /> +</i></p> + + +<p class="center1">III. SONG.</p> + +<p> +3 Soul. <i>Will ye buy any Honesty, come away,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">I sell it openly by day,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">I bring no forced light, nor no Candle</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">To cozen ye; come buy and handle:</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">This will shew the great man good,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">The Tradesman where he swears and lyes,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Each Lady of a noble bloud,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">The City dame to rule her eyes:</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Ye are rich men now: come buy, and then</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">I'le make ye richer, honest men.</span><br /> +</i></p> + + +<p class="center1">IV. SONG.</p> + +<p> +4 Sol. <i>Have ye any crackt maiden-heads, to new leach or mend?<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Have ye any old maiden-heads to sell or to change?</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Bring 'em to me with a little pretty gin,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">I'le clout 'em, I'le mend 'em, I'le knock in a pin,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Shall make 'em as good maids agen,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">As ever they have been.</span><br /> +</i><br /> +<i>Bor.</i> What means all this, why do y'sell Brooms <i>Ancient</i>?<br /> +Is it in wantonness, or want?<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span><br /> +<i>An.</i> The only reason is,<br /> +To sweep your Lordships conscience: here's one for the nonce.<br /> +Gape Sir, you have swallowed many a goodlier matter—<br /> +The only casting for a crazie conscience.<br /> +<br /> +<i>3 Sol.</i> Will your Lordship buy any honestie? 'twill be worth your mony.<br /> +<br /> +<a name="p130_l6" id="p130_l6"></a><i>B</i>[<i>o</i>]<i>r.</i> How is this?<br /> +<br /> +<i>3 Sol.</i> Honestie my Lord, 'tis here in a quill.<br /> +<br /> +<i>An.</i> Take heed you open it not, for 'tis so subtle,<br /> +The least puffe of wind will blow it out o'th' Kingdom.<br /> +<br /> +<a name="p130_l10" id="p130_l10"></a><i>2 Sol.</i> Will your Lordship please to taste a fine Potato?<br /> +'Twill advance your wither'd state.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Anc.</i> Fill your honour full of most noble itches,<br /> +And make Jack dance in your Lordships breeches.<br /> +<br /> +1 Sol. <i>If your Daughters on their beds.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Have bow'd, or crackt their maiden-heads;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">If in a Coach with two much tumbling,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">They chance to crie, fie, fo, what fumbling;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">If her foot slip, and down fall she,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">And break her leg 'bove the knee,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">The one and thirtieth of Februarie let this be ta'ne,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">And they shall be arrant maids again.</span><br /> +</i><br /> +<i>Bor.</i> Ye are brave Souldiers; keep your wantonness,<br /> +A winter will come on to shake this wilfulness.<br /> +Disport your selves, and when you want your mony— <span class="ralign">[<i>Exit.</i></span><br /> +<br /> +<i>Anc.</i> Broom, Broom, &c. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exeunt Singing.</i></span><br /> +</p> + + +<h4>SCENA VI.</h4> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> Alinda, Honora, Viola.</p> + +<p> +<i>Al.</i> You must not be so fearfull, little one,<br /> +Nor Lady you so sad, you will ne're make Courtiers<br /> +With these dull sullen thoughts; this place is pleasure,<br /> +Preserv'd to that use, so inhabited;<br /> +And those that live here, live delightfull, joyfull:<br /> +These are the Gardens of <i>Adonis</i>, Ladies,<br /> +Where all sweets to their free and noble uses,<br /> +Grow ever young and courted.<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span><br /> +<i>Hon.</i> Bless me Heaven,<br /> +Can things of her years arrive at these rudiments?<br /> +By your leave fair Gentlewoman, how long have you been here?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> Faith much about a week.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Hon.</i> You have studied hard,<br /> +And by my faith arriv'd at a great knowledge.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Viol.</i> Were not you bashfull at first?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> I, I, for an hour or two:<br /> +But when I saw people laugh'd at me for it,<br /> +And thought it a dull breeding—<br /> +<br /> +<i>Hon.</i> You are govern'd here then<br /> +Much after the mens opinions.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> Ever Lady.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Hon.</i> And what they think is honourable.—<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> Most precisely<br /> +We follow with all faith.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Hon.</i> A goodly Catechisme.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Viol.</i> But bashfull for an hour or two?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> Faith to say true,<br /> +I do not think I was so long: for look ye,<br /> +'Tis to no end here, put on what shape ye will,<br /> +And soure your self with ne're so much austeritie,<br /> +You shall be courted in the same, and won too,<br /> +'Tis but some two hours more; and so much time lost,<br /> +Which we hold pretious here: In so much time now<br /> +As I have told you this, you may lose a Servant,<br /> +Your age, nor all your Art can e're recover.<br /> +Catch me occasion as she comes, hold fast there,<br /> +Till what you do affect is ripn'd to ye.<br /> +Has the Duke seen ye yet?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Hon.</i> What if he have not?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> You do your beauties too much wrong, appearing<br /> +So full of sweetness, newness; set so richly,<br /> +As if a Counsel beyond nature fram'd ye.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Hon.</i> If we were thus, say heaven had given these blessings,<br /> +Must we turn these to sin-oblations?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> How foolishly this Countrey way shews in ye?<br /> +How full of flegm? do you come here to pray, Ladies?<br /> +You had best cry, stand away, let me alone Gentlemen,<br /> +I'le tell my Father else.<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span><br /> +<i>Viol.</i> This woman's naught sure,<br /> +A very naughtie woman.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Hon.</i> Come, say on friend,<br /> +I'le be instructed by ye.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> You'l thank me for't.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Hon.</i> Either I or the devil shall: The Duke you were speaking of.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> 'Tis well remembred: yes, let him first see you,<br /> +Appear not openly till he has view'd ye.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Hon.</i> He's a very noble Prince they say.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> O wondrous gracious;<br /> +And as you may deliver your self at the first viewing.<br /> +For look ye, you must bear your self; yet take heed<br /> +It be so season'd with a sweet humilitie,<br /> +And grac'd with such a bountie in your beautie—<br /> +<br /> +<i>Hon.</i> But I hope he will offer me no ill?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> No, no:<br /> +'Tis like he will kiss ye, and play with ye.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Hon.</i> Play with me, how?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> Why, good Lord, that you are such a fool now!<br /> +No harm assure your self.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Viol.</i> Will he play with me too?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> Look babies in your eyes, my prettie sweet one:<br /> +There's a fine sport: do you know your lodgings yet?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Hon.</i> I hear of none.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> I do then, they are handsom,<br /> +Convenient for access.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Viol.</i> Access?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> Yes little one,<br /> +For visitation of those friends and Servants,<br /> +Your beauties shall make choice of: friends and visits:<br /> +Do not you know those uses? Alas poor novice;<br /> +There's a close Cowch or two, handsomely placed too.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Viol.</i> What are those I pray you?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> Who would be troubled with such raw things? they are to lie upon,<br /> +And your love by ye; and discourse, and toy in.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Viol.</i> Alas I have no love.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> You must by any means:<br /> +You'l have a hundred, fear not.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Viol.</i> Honestie keep me:<br /> +What shall I doe with all those?<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span><br /> +<i>Al.</i> You'l find uses:<br /> +Ye are ignorant yet, let time work; you must learn too,<br /> +To lie handsomly in your bed a mornings, neatly drest<br /> +In a most curious Wastcoat, to set ye off well,<br /> +Play with your Bracelets, sing: you must learn to rhime too,<br /> +And riddle neatly; studie the hardest language,<br /> +And 'tis no matter whether it be sense, or no,<br /> +So it go seemlie off. Be sure ye profit<br /> +In kissing, kissing sweetly: there lies a main point,<br /> +A key that opens to all practick pleasure;<br /> +I'le help ye to a friend of mine shall teach ye,<br /> +And suddenlie: your Country way is fulsome.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Hon.</i> Have ye schools for all these mysteries?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> O yes,<br /> +And several hours prefix'd to studie in:<br /> +Ye may have Kalenders to know the good hour,<br /> +And when to take a jewel: for the ill too,<br /> +When to refuse, with observations on 'em;<br /> +Under what Sign 'tis best meeting in an Arbor,<br /> +And in what Bower, and hour it works; a thousand,<br /> +When in a Coach, when in a private lodging,<br /> +With all their vertues.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Hon.</i> Have ye studied these?<br /> +How beastly they become your youth? how bawdily?<br /> +A woman of your tenderness, a teacher,<br /> +Teacher of these lewd Arts? of your full beauty?<br /> +A man made up in lust would loath this in ye:<br /> +The rankest Leacher, hate such impudence.<br /> +They say the Devil can assume heavens brightness,<br /> +And so appear to tempt us: sure thou art no woman.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> I joy to find ye thus.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Hon.</i> Thou hast no tenderness,<br /> +No reluctation in thy heart: 'tis mischief.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> All's one for that; read these and then be satisfi'd,<br /> +A few more private rules I have gather'd for ye,<br /> +Read 'em, and well observe 'em: so I leave ye. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exit.</i></span><br /> +<br /> +<i>Viol.</i> A wond[ro]us wicked woman: shame go with thee.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Hon.</i> What new <i>Pandoras</i> box is this? I'le see it,<br /> +Though presently I tear it. Read Thine <i>Viola</i>,<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span>'Tis in our own wills to believe and follow.<br /><br /> + <i>Worthy</i> Honora, <i>as you have begun<br /> + In vertues spotless school, so forward run:<br /> + Pursue that nobleness, and chaste desire<br /> + You ever had, burn in that holy fire;<br /> + And a white Martyr to fair memorie<br /> + Give up your name, unsoil'd of infamy.</i><br /> +<br /> +How's this? Read yours out Sister: this amazes me.<br /> +<br /> +Vio. <i>Fear not thou yet unblasted Violet,<br /> + Nor let my wanton words a doubt beget,<br /> + Live in that peace and sweetness of thy bud,<br /> + Remember whose thou art, and grow still good.<br /> + Remember what thou art, and stand a storie<br /> + Fit for thy noble Sex, and thine own glorie.</i><br /> +<br /> +<i>Hon.</i> I know not what to think.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Viol.</i> Sure a good woman,<br /> +An excellent woman, Sister.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Hon.</i> It confounds me;<br /> +Let 'em use all their arts, if these be their ends,<br /> +The Court I say breeds the best foes and friends.<br /> +Come, let's be honest wench, and doe our best service.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Viol.</i> A most excellent woman, I will love her. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exeunt.</i></span><br /> +</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 15%;" /> +<h3><i>Actus Quartus. Scena Prima.</i></h3> + + +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> Olympia <i>with a Casket, and</i> Alinda.</p> + +<p> +<i>Al.</i> Madam, the Duke has sent for the two Ladies.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Olym.</i> I prethee go: I know thy thoughts are with him.<br /> +Go, go <i>Alinda</i>, do not mock me more.<br /> +I have found thy heart wench, do not wrong thy Mistris,<br /> +Thy too much loving Mistris: do not abuse her.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> By your own fair hands I understand ye not.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Olym.</i> By thy own fair eyes I understand thee too much,<br /> +<a name="p134_l31" id="p134_l31"></a>Too far, and built a faith there thou hast ruin'd.<br /> +Goe, and enjoy thy wish, thy youth, thy pleasure,<br /> +Enjoy the greatness no doubt he has promised,<br /> +Enjoy the service of all eyes that see thee,<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span>The glory thou hast aim'd at, and the triumph:<br /> +Only this last love I ask, forget thy Mistris.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> Oh, who has wrong'd me? who has ruin'd me?<br /> +Poor wretched Girle, what poyson is flung on thee?<br /> +Excellent vertue, from whence flows this anger?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ol.</i> Go, ask my Brother, ask the faith thou gav'st me,<br /> +Ask all my favours to thee, ask my love,<br /> +Last, thy forgetfulness of good: then flye me,<br /> +For we must part <i>Alinda</i>.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> You are weary of me;<br /> +I must confess, I was never worth your service,<br /> +Your bounteous favours less; but that my duty,<br /> +My ready will, and all I had to serve ye—<br /> +O Heaven thou know'st my honestie.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Olym.</i> No more:<br /> +Take heed, heaven has a justice: take this ring with ye,<br /> +This doting spell you gave me: too well <i>Alinda</i>,<br /> +Thou knew'st the vertue in't; too well I feel it:<br /> +Nay keep that too, it may sometimes remember ye,<br /> +When you are willing to forget who gave it,<br /> +And to what vertuous end.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> Must I goe from ye?<br /> +Of all the sorrows sorrow has—must I part with ye?<br /> +Part with my noble Mistris?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Olym.</i> Or I with thee wench.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> And part stain'd with opinion? Farewel Lady,<br /> +Happy and blessed Lady, goodness keep ye:<br /> +Thus your poor Servant full of grief turns from ye,<br /> +For ever full of grief, for ever from ye.<br /> +I have no being now, no friends, no Country,<br /> +I wander heaven knows whither, heaven knows how.<br /> +No life, now you are lost: only mine innocence,<br /> +That little left me of my self, goes with me,<br /> +That's all my bread and comfort. I confess Madam,<br /> +Truely confess, the Duke has often courted me.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Olym.</i> And pour'd his Soul into thee, won thee.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> Do you think so?<br /> +Well, time that told this tale, will tell my truth too,<br /> +And say ye had a faithfull, honest Servant:<br /> +The business of my life is now to pray for ye,<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span>Pray for your vertuous loves; Pray for your children,<br /> +When Heaven shall make ye happy.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Olym.</i> How she wounds me!<br /> +Either I am undone, or she must go: take these with ye,<br /> +Some toyes may doe ye service; and this mony;<br /> +And when ye want, I love ye not so poorly,<br /> +Not yet <i>Alinda</i>, that I would see ye perish.<br /> +Prethee be good, and let me hear: look on me,<br /> +I love those eyes yet dearly; I have kiss'd thee,<br /> +And now I'le doe't again: Farewel <i>Alinda</i>,<br /> +I am too full to speak more, and too wretched. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exit.</i></span><br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> You have my faith,<br /> +And all the world my fortune. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exit.</i></span><br /> +</p> + + +<h4>SCENA II.</h4> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> Theodor.</p> + +<p> +<i>The.</i> I would fain hear<br /> +What becomes of these two Wenches:<br /> +And if I can, I will doe 'em good.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter Gentleman, passing over the Stage.</i></p> + +<p> +Do you hear my honest friend?<br /> +He knows no such name:<br /> +What a world of business,<br /> +Which by interpretation are meer nothings,<br /> +These things have here! 'Mass now I think on't better,<br /> +I wish he be not sent for one of them<br /> +To some of these by-lodgings: me thought I saw<br /> +A kind of reference in his face to Bawderie.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter Gentleman, with a Gentlewoman, passing +over the Stage.</i></p> + +<p> +He has her, but 'tis none of them: hold fast thief:<br /> +An excellent touzing knave. Mistris<br /> +<a name="p136_l31" id="p136_l31"></a>You are to suffer your penance some half hour hence now.<br /> +How far a fine Court Custard with Plums in it<br /> +Will prevail with one of these waiting Gentlewomen,<br /> +They are taken with these soluble things exceedingly;<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span>This is some yeoman o'th' bottles now that has sent for her,<br /> +That she calls Father: now woe to this Ale incense.<br /> +By your leave Sir.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter a</i> Servant.</p> + +<p> +<i>Ser.</i> Well Sir; what's your pleasure with me?<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> You do not know the way to the maids lodgings?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ser.</i> Yes indeed do I Sir.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> But you will not tell me?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ser.</i> No indeed will not I, because you doubt it. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exit.</i></span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> 2 Servant.</p> + +<p> +<i>The.</i> These are fine gim-cracks: hey, here comes another,<br /> +A Flagon full of wine in's hand, I take it.<br /> +Well met my friend, is that wine?<br /> +<br /> +<i>2 Ser.</i> Yes indeed is it.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> Faith I'le drink on't then.<br /> +<br /> +<i>2 Ser.</i> Ye may, because ye have sworn Sir.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> 'Tis very good, I'le drink a great deal now Sir.<br /> +<br /> +<i>2 Ser.</i> I cannot help it Sir.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> I'le drink more yet.<br /> +<br /> +<i>2 Ser.</i> 'Tis in your own hands.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> There's your pot, I thank ye.<br /> +Pray let me drink again.<br /> +<br /> +<i>2 Ser.</i> Faith but ye shall not.<br /> +Now have I sworn I take it. Fare ye well Sir. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exit.</i></span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> Lady.</p> + +<p> +<i>The.</i> This is the fin'st place to live in I e're enter'd.<br /> +Here comes a Gentlewoman, and alone; I'le to her.<br /> +Madam, my Lord my Master.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Lady.</i> Who's your Lord Sir?<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> The Lord <i>Boroskey</i>, Lady.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Lady.</i> Pray excuse me:<br /> +Here's something for your pains: within this hour Sir,<br /> +One of the choice young Ladies shall attend him:<br /> +Pray let it be in that Chamber juts out to the water;<br /> +'Tis private and convenient: doe my humble service<br /> +To my honourable good Lord, I beseech ye Sir;<br /> +If it please you to visit a poor Lady—<br /> +You carrie the 'haviour of a noble Gentleman.<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span><br /> +<i>The.</i> I shall be bold.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Lady.</i> 'Tis a good aptness in ye.<br /> +I lye here in the Wood-yard, the blue lodgings Sir;<br /> +They call me merrily the Lady of the —— Sir;<br /> +A little I know what belongs to a Gentleman,<br /> +And if it please you take the pains. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exit.</i></span><br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> Dear Lady, take the pains?<br /> +Why a horse would not take the pains that thou requir'st now,<br /> +To cleave old crab-tree: one of the choice young Ladies?<br /> +I would I had let this Bawd goe, she has frighted me;<br /> +I am cruelly afraid of one of my Tribe now;<br /> +But if they will doe, the Devil cannot stop 'em.<br /> +Why should he have a young Lady? are women now<br /> +O'th' nature of Bottles, to be stopt with Corks?<br /> +O the thousand little furies that flye here now!<br /> +How now Captain?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> Putsky.</p> + +<p> +<i>Puts.</i> I come to seek you out Sir,<br /> +And all the Town I have travell'd.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> What's the news man?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Puts.</i> That that concerns us all, and very nearly:<br /> +The Duke this night holds a great feast at Court,<br /> +To which he bids for guests all his old Counsellors,<br /> +And all his favourites: your Father's sent for.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> Why he is neither in council, nor in favour.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Pu.</i> That's it: have an eye now, or never, and a quick one,<br /> +An eye that must not wink from good intelligence.<br /> +I heard a Bird sing, they mean him no good office.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> Ancient.</p> + +<p> +<i>The.</i> Art sure he sups here?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Puts.</i> Sure as 'tis day.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> 'Tis like then:<br /> +How now, where hast thou been <i>Ancient</i>?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Anc.</i> Measuring the City:<br /> +I have left my Brooms at gate here;<br /> +By this time the Porter has stole 'em to sweep out Rascals.<br /> +<br /> +<a name="p138_l37" id="p138_l37"></a><i>Theod.</i> Bro[o]ms?<br /> +<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span><i>Anc.</i> I have been crying Brooms all the town over,<br /> +<a name="p139_l1" id="p139_l1"></a>And such a Mart I have made, there's no tread near it.<br /> +O the young handsom wenches, how they twitter'd,<br /> +When they but saw me shake my ware, and sing too;<br /> +Come hither Master Broom-man I beseech ye:<br /> +Good Master Broom-man hither, cries another.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> Thou art a mad fellow.<br /> +<br /> +<a name="p139_l7" id="p139_l7"></a><i>Anc.</i> They are all as mad as I: they all have tra[de]s now,<br /> +And roar about the streets like Bull-beggers.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> What company of Souldiers are they?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Anc.</i> By this means I have gather'd<br /> +Above a thousand tall and hardy Souldiers,<br /> +If need be Colonel.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> That need's come <i>Ancient</i>,<br /> +And 'twas discreetly done: goe, draw 'em presently,<br /> +But without suspicion: this night we shall need 'em;<br /> +Let 'em be near the Court, let <i>Putskie</i> guide 'em;<br /> +And wait me for occasion: here I'le stay still.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Puts.</i> If it fall out we are ready; if not we are scatter'd:<br /> +I'le wait ye at an inch.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> Doe, Farewel. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exeunt.</i></span><br /> +</p> + + +<h4>SCENA III.</h4> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter Duke</i>, Borosky.</p> + +<p> +<i>Duke.</i> Are the Souldiers still so mutinous?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> More than ever,<br /> +No Law nor Justice frights 'em: all the Town over<br /> +They play new pranks and gambols: no mans person,<br /> +Of what degree soever, free from abuses:<br /> +And durst they doe this, (let your grace consider)<br /> +These monstrous, most offensive things, these villanies,<br /> +If not set on, and fed? if not by one<br /> +They honour more than you? and more aw'd by him?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Duke.</i> Happily their own wants.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Boros.</i> I offer to supply 'em,<br /> +And every hour make tender of their moneys:<br /> +They scorn it, laugh at me that offer it:<br /> +I fear the next device will be my life Sir;<br /> +And willingly I'le give it, so they stay there.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Duke.</i> Do you think Lord <i>Archas</i> privie?<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span><br /> +<i>Bor.</i> More than thought,<br /> +I know it Sir, I know they durst not doe<br /> +These violent rude things, abuse the State thus,<br /> +But that they have a hope by his ambitions—<br /> +<br /> +<i>Duke.</i> No more: he's sent for?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Boros.</i> Yes, and will be here sure.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Duke.</i> Let me talk further with you anon.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Boros.</i> I'le wait Sir.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Duke.</i> Did you speak to the Ladies?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Boros.</i> They'l attend your grace presently.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Duke.</i> How do you like 'em?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Boros.</i> My eyes are too dull Judges.<br /> +They wait here Sir. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exit.</i></span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> Honora, <i>and</i> Viola.</p> + +<p> +<i>Duke.</i> Be you gone then: Come in Ladies,<br /> +Welcom to th' court sweet beauties; now the court shines,<br /> +When such true beams of beauty strike amongst us:<br /> +Welcom, welcom, even as your own joyes welcom.<br /> +How do you like the Court? how seems it to you?<br /> +Is't not a place created for all sweetness?<br /> +Why were you made such strangers to this happiness?<br /> +Barr'd the delights this holds? the richest jewels<br /> +Set ne're so well, if then not worn to wonder,<br /> +By judging eyes not set off, lose their lustre:<br /> +Your Country shades are faint; blasters of beauty;<br /> +The manners like the place, obscure and heavie;<br /> +<a name="p140_l27" id="p140_l27"></a>The Rose buds of the beauties turn to cankers,<br /> +Eaten with inward thoughts: whilst there ye wander.<br /> +Here Ladies, here, you were not made for Cloisters,<br /> +Here is the Sphere you move in: here shine nobly,<br /> +And by your powerfull influence command all:<br /> +What a sweet modestie dwells round about 'em,<br /> +And like a nipping morn pulls in their blossoms?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Hon.</i> Your grace speaks cunningly, you doe not this,<br /> +I hope Sir, to betray us; we are poor triumphs;<br /> +Nor can our loss of honour adde to you Sir:<br /> +Great men, and great thoughts, seek things great and worthy,<br /> +Subjects to make 'em live, and not to lose 'em;<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span>Conquests so nobly won, can never perish;<br /> +We are two simple maids, untutor'd here Sir;<br /> +Two honest maids, is that a sin at Court Sir?<br /> +Our breeding is obedience, but to good things,<br /> +To vertuous and to fair: what wou'd you win on us?<br /> +Why do I ask that question, when I have found ye?<br /> +Your Preamble has pour'd your heart out to us;<br /> +You would dishonour us; which in your translation<br /> +Here at the Court reads thus, your grace would love us,<br /> +Most dearly love us: stick us up for mistresses:<br /> +Most certain, there are thousands of our sex Sir<br /> +That would be glad of this, and handsom women,<br /> +And crowd into this favour, fair young women,<br /> +Excellent beauties Sir: when ye have enjoy'd 'em,<br /> +And suckt those sweets they have, what Saints are these then?<br /> +What worship have they won? what name you ghess Sir,<br /> +What storie added to their time, a sweet one?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Duke.</i> A brave spirited wench.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Hon.</i> I'le tell your grace,<br /> +And tell ye true: ye are deceiv'd in us two,<br /> +Extreamly cozen'd Sir: And yet in my eye<br /> +You are the handsomst man I ever lookt on,<br /> +The goodliest Gentleman; take that hope with ye;<br /> +And were I fit to be your wife (so much I honour ye)<br /> +Trust me I would scratch for ye but I would have ye.<br /> +I would wooe you then.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Duke.</i> She amazes me:<br /> +But how am I deceiv'd?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Hon.</i> O we are too honest,<br /> +Believe it Sir, too honest, far too honest,<br /> +The way that you propound too ignorant,<br /> +And there is no medling with us; for we are fools too,<br /> +Obstinate, peevish fools: if I would be ill,<br /> +And had a wantons itch, to kick my heels up,<br /> +I would not leap into th' Sun, and doe't there,<br /> +That all the world might see me: an obscure shade Sir,<br /> +Dark as the deed, there is no trusting light with it,<br /> +<a name="p141_l37" id="p141_l37"></a>Nor that that's lighter far, vain-glorious greatness.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Duke.</i> You will love me as your friend?<br /> +<br /> +<a name="p141_l39" id="p141_l39"></a><i>Ho</i>[<i>n</i>]. I will honour ye,<br /> +As your poor humble handmaid serve, and pray for ye.<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span><br /> +<i>Du.</i> What sayes my little one; you are not so obstinate?<br /> +Lord how she blushes: here are truly fair souls:<br /> +Come you will be my love?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Viol.</i> Good Sir be good to me,<br /> +Indeed I'le doe the best I can to please ye;<br /> +I do beseech your grace: Alas I fear ye.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Duke.</i> What shouldst thou fear?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Hon.</i> Fie Sir, this is not noble.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Duke.</i> Why do I stand entreating, where my power—<br /> +<br /> +<i>Hon.</i> You have no power, at least you ought to have none<br /> +In bad and beastly things: arm'd thus, I'le dye here,<br /> +Before she suffer wrong.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Duke.</i> Another <i>Archas</i>?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Hon.</i> His child Sir, and his spirit.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Duke.</i> I'le deal with you then,<br /> +For here's the honour to be won: sit down sweet,<br /> +Prethee <i>Honora</i> sit.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Hon.</i> Now ye intreat I will Sir.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Duke.</i> I doe, and will deserve it.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Hon.</i> That's too much kindness.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Duke.</i> Prethee look on me.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Hon.</i> Yes: I love to see ye,<br /> +And could look on an age thus, and admire ye:<br /> +Whilst ye are good and temperate I dare touch ye,<br /> +Kiss your white hand.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Duke.</i> Why not my lips?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Hon.</i> I dare Sir.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Duke.</i> I do not think ye dare.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Hon.</i> I am no coward.<br /> +<a name="p142_l30" id="p142_l30"></a>D[o] you believe me now? or now? or now Sir?<br /> +You make me blush: but sure I mean no ill Sir:<br /> +It had been fitter you had kiss'd me.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> That I'le doe too.<br /> +What hast thou wrought into me?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Hon.</i> I hope all goodness:<br /> +Whilst ye are thus, thus honest, I dare do any thing,<br /> +Thus hang about your neck, and thus doat on ye;<br /> +Bless those fair lights: hell take me if I durst not—<br /> +But good Sir pardon me. Sister come hither,<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span>Come hither, fear not wench: come hither, blush not,<br /> +Come kiss the Prince, the vertuous Prince, the good Prince:<br /> +Certain he is excellent honest.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> Thou wilt make me—<br /> +<br /> +<i>Hon.</i> Sit down, and hug him softly.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> Fie <i>Honora</i>,<br /> +Wanton <i>Honora</i>; is this the modesty,<br /> +The noble chastity your on-set shew'd me,<br /> +At first charge beaten back? Away.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Hon.</i> Thank ye:<br /> +Upon my knees I pray, heaven too may thank ye;<br /> +Ye have deceiv'd me cunningly, yet nobly<br /> +Ye have cozen'd me: In all your hopefull life yet,<br /> +A Scene of greater honour you ne're acted:<br /> +I knew fame was a lyar, too long, and loud tongu'd,<br /> +And now I have found it: O my vertuous Master.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Viol.</i> My vertuous Master too.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Hon.</i> Now you are thus,<br /> +What shall become of me let fortune cast for't.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> Alinda.</p> + +<p> +<i>Du.</i> I'le be that fortune, if I live <i>Honora</i>,<br /> +Thou hast done a cure upon me, counsel could not.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> Here take your ring Sir, and whom ye mean to ruine,<br /> +Give it to her next; I have paid for't dearly.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Hon.</i> A Ring to her?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> Why frowns my fair <i>Alinda</i>?<br /> +I have forgot both these again.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> Stand still Sir,<br /> +Ye have that violent killing fire upon ye,<br /> +Consumes all honour, credit, faith.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Hon.</i> How's this?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> My Royal Mistris favour towards me,<br /> +Woe-worth ye Sir, ye have poyson'd, blasted.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Duke.</i> I sweet?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> You have taken that unmanly liberty,<br /> +Which in a worse man, is vain glorious feigning,<br /> +And kill'd my truth.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> Upon my life 'tis false wench.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> Ladies,<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span>Take heed, ye have a cunning gamester,<br /> +A handsom, and a high; come stor'd with Antidotes,<br /> +He has infections else will fire your blouds.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> Prethee <i>Alinda</i> hear me.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> Words steept in hony,<br /> +That will so melt into your minds, buy Chastity,<br /> +A thousand wayes, a thousand knots to tie ye;<br /> +And when he has bound ye his, a thousand ruines.<br /> +A poor lost woman ye have made me.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> I'le maintain thee,<br /> +And nobly too.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> That Gin's too weak to take me:<br /> +Take heed, take heed young Ladies: still take heed,<br /> +Take heed of promises, take heed of gifts,<br /> +Of forced feigned sorrows, sighs, take heed.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> By all that's mine, <i>Alinda</i>—<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> Swear<br /> +By your mischiefs:<br /> +O whither shall I goe?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Duke.</i> Go back again,<br /> +I'le force her take thee, love thee.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Alin.</i> Fare ye well, Sir,<br /> +I will not curse ye; only this dwell with ye,<br /> +When ever ye love, a false belief light on ye. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exit.</i></span><br /> +<br /> +<i>Hon.</i> We'll take our leaves too, Sir.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Duke.</i> Part all the world now,<br /> +Since she is gone.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Hon.</i> You are crooked yet, dear Master,<br /> +And still I fear— <span class="ralign">[<i>Exeunt.</i></span><br /> +<br /> +<i>Duke.</i> I am vext,<br /> +And some shall find it. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exit.</i></span><br /> +</p> + + +<h4>SCENE IV.</h4> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> Archas <i>and a Servant</i>.</p> + +<p> +<i>Ar.</i> 'Tis strange<br /> +To me to see the Court, and welcome:<br /> +O Royal place, how have I lov'd and serv'd thee?<br /> +Who lies on this side, know'st thou?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ser.</i> The Lord <i>Burris</i>.<br /> +<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span><i>Ar.</i> Thou hast nam'd a Gentleman<br /> +I stand much bound to:<br /> +I think he sent the Casket, Sir?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ser.</i> The same, Sir.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> An honest minded man, a noble Courtier:<br /> +The Duke made perfect choice when he took him.<br /> +Go you home, I shall hit the way<br /> +Without a guide now.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ser.</i> You may want something, Sir.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> Only my Horses,<br /> +Which after Supper let the Groom wait with:<br /> +I'le have no more attendance here.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ser.</i> Your will, Sir. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exit.</i></span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> Theodore.</p> + +<p> +<i>Theo.</i> You are well met here, Sir.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> How now boy,<br /> +How dost thou?<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> I should ask<br /> +You that question: how do you, Sir?<br /> +How do you feel your self?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> Why well, and lusty.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> What do you here then?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> Why I am sent for<br /> +To Supper with the Duke.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> Have you no meat at home?<br /> +Or do you long to feed as hunted Deer do,<br /> +In doubt and fear?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> I have an excellent stomach,<br /> +And can I use it better<br /> +Than among my friends, Boy?<br /> +How do the Wenches?<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> They do well enough, Sir,<br /> +They know the worst by this time: pray be rul'd, Sir,<br /> +Go home again, and if ye have a Supper,<br /> +Eat it in quiet there: this is no place for ye,<br /> +Especially at this time,<br /> +Take my word for't.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> May be they'll drink hard;<br /> +I could have drunk my share, Boy.<br /> +Though I am old, I will not out.<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span><br /> +<i>The.</i> I hope you will.<br /> +Hark in your ear: the Court's<br /> +Too quick of hearing.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> Not mean me well?<br /> +Thou art abus'd and cozen'd.<br /> +Away, away.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> To that end Sir, I tell ye.<br /> +Away, if you love your self.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> Who dare do these things,<br /> +That ever heard of honesty?<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> Old Gentleman,<br /> +Take a fools counsel.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> 'Tis a fools indeed;<br /> +A very fools: thou hast more of<br /> +These flams in thee, these musty doubts:<br /> +Is't fit the Duke send for me,<br /> +And honour me to eat within his presence,<br /> +<a name="p146_l18" id="p146_l18"></a>And I, like a tale fellow, play at bo-peep<br /> +With his pleasure?<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> Take heed<br /> +Of bo-peep with your pate, your pate, Sir,<br /> +I speak plain language now.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> If 'twere not here,<br /> +Where reverence bids me hold,<br /> +I would so swinge thee, thou rude,<br /> +Unmanner'd Knave; take from his bounty,<br /> +His honour that he gives me, to beget<br /> +Sawcy, and sullen fears?<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> You are not mad sure:<br /> +By this fair light, I speak<br /> +But what is whisper'd,<br /> +And whisper'd for a truth.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> A Dog: drunken people,<br /> +That in their Pot see visions,<br /> +And turn states, mad-men and Children:<br /> +Prethee do not follow me;<br /> +I tell thee I am angry:<br /> +Do not follow me.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> I am as angry<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span>As you for your heart,<br /> +I and as wilful too: go, like a Wood-cock,<br /> +And thrust your neck i'th' noose.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> I'le kill thee,<br /> +And thou speakst but three words more.<br /> +Do not follow me. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exit.</i></span><br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> A strange old foolish fellow: I shall hear yet,<br /> +And if I do not my part, hiss at me. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exit.</i></span><br /> +</p> + + +<h4>SCENE V.</h4> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter two Servants preparing a Banquet.</i></p> + +<p> +<i>1 Serv.</i> Believe me fellow here will be lusty drinking.<br /> +Many a washt pate in Wine I warrant thee.<br /> +<br /> +<i>2 Ser.</i> I am glad the old General's come: upon my Conscience<br /> +That joy will make half the Court drunk. Hark the Trumpets,<br /> +They are coming on; away.<br /> +<br /> +<i>1 Ser.</i> We'll have a rowse too. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exeunt.</i></span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter Duke</i>, Archas, Burris, Boroskie, <i>Attend. Gent.</i></p> + +<p> +<i>Duke.</i> Come seat your selves: Lord <i>Archas</i> sit you there.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> 'Tis far above my worth.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Duke.</i> I'le have it so:<br /> +Are all things ready?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> All the Guards are set,<br /> +<a name="p147_l22" id="p147_l22"></a>The Court Gates are shut.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Duke.</i> Then do as I prescrib'd ye.<br /> +Be sure no further.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> I shall well observe ye.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> Come bring some wine: here's to my Sister, Gentlemen;<br /> +A health, and mirth to all.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> Pray fill it full, Sir.<br /> +'Tis a high health to vertue: here Lord <i>Burris</i>,<br /> +A maiden health: you are most fit to pledge it,<br /> +You have a maiden soul and much I honour it.<br /> +Passion o' me, ye are sad man.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Duke.</i> How now, <i>Burris</i>?<br /> +Go to, no more of this.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> Take the rowse freely,<br /> +'Twill warm your bloud, and make ye fit for jollity.<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span>Your Graces pardon: when we get a cup, Sir,<br /> +We old men prate a pace.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> Mirth makes a Banquet;<br /> +As you love me no more.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bur.</i> I thank your Grace.<br /> +Give me it; Lord <i>Boroskie</i>.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Boros.</i> I have ill brains, Sir.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bur.</i> Damnable ill, I know it.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Boros.</i> But I'le pledge, Sir,<br /> +This vertuous health.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bur.</i> The more unfit for thy mouth.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter two Servants with Cloaks.</i></p> + +<p> +<i>Du.</i> Come, bring out Robes, and let my guests look nobly,<br /> +Fit for my love and presence: begin downward.<br /> +Off with your Cloaks, take new.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> Your grace deals truly,<br /> +Like a munificent Prince, with your poor subjects,<br /> +Who would not fight for you? what cold dull coward<br /> +Durst seek to save his life when you would ask it?<br /> +Begin a new health in your new adornments,<br /> +The Dukes, the Royal Dukes: ha! what have I got<br /> +Sir? ha! the Robe of death?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> You have deserv'd it.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> The Livery of the Grave? do you start all from me?<br /> +Do I smell of earth already? Sir, look on me,<br /> +And like a man; is this your entertainment?<br /> +Do you bid your worthiest guests to bloudy Banquets?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter a Guard.</i></p> + +<p> +A Guard upon me too? this is too foul play<br /> +Boy to thy good, thine honour: thou wretched Ruler,<br /> +Thou Son of fools and flatterers, Heir of hypocrites,<br /> +Am I serv'd in a Hearse that sav'd ye all?<br /> +Are ye men or Devils? Do ye gape upon me,<br /> +Wider, and swallow all my services?<br /> +Entomb them first, my faith next, then my integrity,<br /> +And let these struggle with your mangy minds,<br /> +<a name="p148_l36" id="p148_l36"></a>Your sear'd, and seal'd up Consciences, till they burst.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Boros.</i> These words are death.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> No those deeds that want rewards, Sirrah,<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span>Those Battels I have fought, those horrid dangers,<br /> +Leaner than death, and wilder than destruction,<br /> +I have march'd upon, these honour'd wounds, times story,<br /> +The bloud I have lost, the youth, the sorrows suffer'd,<br /> +These are my death, these that can ne're be recompenced,<br /> +These that ye sit a brooding on like Toads,<br /> +Sucking from my deserts the sweets and favours,<br /> +And render me no pay again but poysons.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> The proud vain Souldier thou hast set—<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> Thou lyest.<br /> +Now by my little time of life lyest basely,<br /> +Malitiously and loudly: how I scorn thee!<br /> +If I had swel'd the Souldier, or intended<br /> +An act in person, leaning to dishonour,<br /> +As ye would fain have forced me, witness Heaven,<br /> +Where clearest understanding of all truth is,<br /> +(For these are spightful men, and know no piety)<br /> +When <i>Olin</i> came, grim <i>Olin</i>, when his marches,<br /> +His last Incursions made the City sweat,<br /> +And drove before him, as a storm drives Hail,<br /> +Such showrs of frosted fears, shook all your heart-strings;<br /> +Then when the <i>Volga</i> trembled at his terrour,<br /> +And hid his seven curl'd heads, afraid of bruising,<br /> +By his arm'd Horses hoofs; had I been false then,<br /> +Or blown a treacherous fire into the Souldier,<br /> +Had but one spark of villany liv'd within me,<br /> +Ye'ad had some shadow for this black about me.<br /> +Where was your Souldiership? why went not you out?<br /> +And all your right honourable valour with ye?<br /> +Why met ye not the <i>Tartar</i>, and defi'd him?<br /> +Drew your dead-doing sword, and buckl'd with him?<br /> +Shot through his Squadrons like a fiery Meteor?<br /> +And as we see a dreadful clap of Thunder<br /> +Rend the stiffhearted Oaks, and toss their roots up:<br /> +Why did not you so charge him? you were sick then,<br /> +You that dare taint my credit slipt to bed then,<br /> +Stewing and fainting with the fears ye had,<br /> +A whorson shaking fit opprest your Lordship:<br /> +Blush Coward, Knave, and all the world hiss at thee.<br /> +<br /> +<a name="p149_l40" id="p149_l40"></a><i>Du.</i> Exceed not my command. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exit.</i></span><br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> I shall observe it.<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span><br /> +<i>Ar.</i> Are you gone too? Come weep not honest <i>Burris</i>,<br /> +Good loving Lord, no more tears: 'tis not his malice,<br /> +This fellows malice, nor the Dukes displeasure,<br /> +By bold bad men crowded into his nature,<br /> +Can startle me: fortune ne're raz'd this Fort yet:<br /> +I am the same, the same man, living, dying;<br /> +The same mind to 'em both, I poize thus equal;<br /> +<a name="p150_l8" id="p150_l8"></a>Only the jugling way that toll'd me to it,<br /> +The <i>Judas</i> way, to kiss me, bid me welcome,<br /> +And cut my throat, a little sticks upon me.<br /> +Farewel, commend me to his Grace, and tell him,<br /> +The world is full of servants, he may have many:<br /> +And some I wish him honest: he's undone else:<br /> +But such another doating <i>Archas</i> never,<br /> +So try'd and touch'd a faith: farewell for ever.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bur.</i> Be strong my Lord: you must not go thus lightly.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> Now, what's to do? what sayes the Law unto me?<br /> +<a name="p150_l18" id="p150_l18"></a>Give me my great offence that speaks me guil[t]y.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> Laying aside a thousand petty matters,<br /> +As scorns, and insolencies both from your self and followers,<br /> +Which you put first fire to, and these are deadly,<br /> +I come to one main cause, which though it carries<br /> +A strangeness in the circumstance, it carries death too,<br /> +Not to be pardon'd neither: ye have done a sacriledge.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> High Heaven defend me man: how, how <i>Boroskie</i>?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> Ye have took from the Temple those vow'd Arms,<br /> +The holy Ornament you hung up there,<br /> +No absolution of your vow, no order<br /> +From holy Church to give 'em back unto you<br /> +After they were purified from War, and rested<br /> +From bloud, made clean by ceremony: from the Altar<br /> +You snatch'd 'em up again, again ye wore 'em,<br /> +Again you stain'd 'em, stain'd your vow, the Church too,<br /> +And rob'd it of that right was none of yours, Sir,<br /> +For which the Law requires your head, ye know it.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> Those arms I fought in last?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> The same.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> God a mercy,<br /> +Thou hast hunted out a notable cause to kill me:<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span>A subtle one: I dye, for saving all you;<br /> +Good Sir, remember if you can, the necessity,<br /> +The suddenness of time, the state all stood in;<br /> +I was entreated to, kneel'd to, and pray'd to,<br /> +The Duke himself, the Princes, all the Nobles,<br /> +The cries of Infants, Bed-rid Fathers, Virgins;<br /> +Prethee find out a better cause, a handsomer,<br /> +This will undo thee too: people will spit at thee,<br /> +The Devil himself would be asham'd of this cause;<br /> +Because my haste made me forget the ceremony,<br /> +The present danger every where, must my life satisfie?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> It must, and shall.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> O base ungrateful people,<br /> +<a name="p151_l13" id="p151_l13"></a>Have ye no other Swords to cut my throat with<br /> +But mine own nobleness? I confess, I took 'em,<br /> +The vow not yet absolv'd I hung 'em up with:<br /> +Wore 'em, fought in 'em, gilded 'em again<br /> +In the fierce <i>Tartars</i> blouds; for you I took 'em,<br /> +For your peculiar safety, Lord, for all,<br /> +I wore 'em for my Countries health, that groan'd then:<br /> +Took from the Temple, to preserve the Temple;<br /> +That holy place, and all the sacred monuments,<br /> +The reverent shrines of Saints, ador'd and honour'd,<br /> +Had been consum'd to ashes, their own sacrifice;<br /> +Had I been slack, or staid that absolution,<br /> +No Priest had liv'd to give it; my own honour,<br /> +Cure of my Country murder me?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> No, no Sir,<br /> +I shall force that from ye, will make this cause light too,<br /> +Away with him: I shall pluck down that heart, Sir.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> Break it thou mayest; but if it bend, for pity,<br /> +<a name="p151_l31" id="p151_l31"></a>Doggs, and Kites eat it: come I am honours Martyr. <span class="ralign">[<i>Ex.</i></span><br /> +</p> + + +<h4>SCENE VI.</h4> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter Duke, and</i> Burris.</p> + +<p> +<i>Du.</i> Exceed my Warrant?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bur.</i> You know he loves him not.<br /> +<br /> +<a name="p151_l36" id="p151_l36"></a><i>Du.</i> He dares as well eat death, as do it, eat wild-fire,<br /> +Through a few fears I mean to try his goodness,<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span>That I may find him fit, to wear here, <i>Burris</i>;<br /> +I know Boroskie hates him, to death hates him,<br /> +I know he's a Serpent too, a swoln one, <span class="ralign">[<i>Noise within.</i></span><br /> +But I have pull'd his sting out: what noise is that?<br /> +<br /> +<i>The. within.</i> Down with 'em, down with 'em, down with the gates.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Sold. within.</i> Stand, stand, stand.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Puts. within.</i> Fire the Palace before ye.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bur.</i> Upon my life the Souldier, Sir, the Souldier,<br /> +A miserable time is come.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter Gentleman.</i></p> + +<p> +<i>Gent.</i> Oh save him,<br /> +Upon my knees, my hearts knees, save Lord <i>Archas</i>,<br /> +We are undone else.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> Dares he touch his Body?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Gent.</i> He racks him fearfully, most fearfully.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> Away <i>Burris</i>,<br /> +Take men, and take him from him; clap him up,<br /> +And if I live, I'll find a strange death for him. <span class="ralign">[<i>Ex.</i> Bur.</span><br /> +Are the Souldiers broke in?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Gent.</i> By this time sure they are, Sir,<br /> +They beat the Gates extreamly, beat the people.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> Get me a guard about me; make sure the lodgings,<br /> +And speak the Souldiers fair.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Gent.</i> Pray Heaven that take, Sir. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exeunt.</i></span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> Putskie, <i>Ancient, Souldiers, with Torches</i>.</p> + +<p> +<i>Puts.</i> Give us the General, we'll fire the Court else,<br /> +Render him safe and well.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Anc.</i> Do not fire the Cellar,<br /> +There's excellent Wine in't, Captain, and though it be cold weather,<br /> +I do not love it mull'd; bring out the General,<br /> +We'll light ye such a Bone-fire else: where are ye?<br /> +Speak, or we'll toss your Turrets, peep out of your Hives,<br /> +We'll smoak ye else: Is not that a Nose there?<br /> +Put out that Nose again, and if thou dar'st<br /> +But blow it before us: now he creeps out on's Burrough.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter Gentleman.</i></p> + +<p> +<i>Puts.</i> Give us the General.<br /> +<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span><i>Gent.</i> Yes, Gentlemen;<br /> +Or any thing ye can desire.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Anc.</i> You musk-cat,<br /> +Cordevant-skin we will not take your answer.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Puts.</i> Where is the Duke? speak suddenly, and send him hither.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Anc.</i> Or we'll so frye your Buttocks.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Gent.</i> Good sweet Gentlemen—<br /> +<br /> +<i>Anc.</i> We are neither good nor sweet, we are Souldiers,<br /> +And you miscreants that abuse the General.<br /> +Give fire my Boys, 'tis a dark Evening,<br /> +Let's light 'em to their lodgings.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> Olympia, Honora, Viola, Theodore, <i>Women</i>.</p> + +<p> +<i>Hon.</i> Good Brother be not fierce.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> I will not hurt her,<br /> +Fear not sweet Lady.<br /> +<br /> +<a name="p153_l15" id="p153_l15"></a><i>Olym.</i> Nay, do what you please, Sir,<br /> +I have a sorrow that exceeds all yours,<br /> +And more, contemns all danger.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter Duke, above.</i></p> + +<p> +<i>The.</i> Where is the Duke?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> He's here; what would ye Souldiers? wherefore troop ye<br /> +Like mutinous mad-men thus?<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> Give me my Father.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Puts. Anc.</i> Give us our General.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> Set him here before us,<br /> +<a name="p153_l25" id="p153_l25"></a>Ye see the pledge we have got; ye see the Torches;<br /> +All shall to ashes, as I live, immediately,<br /> +A thousand lives for one.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> But hear me?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Puts.</i> No, we come not to dispute.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> Archas, <i>and</i> Burris.</p> + +<p> +<i>The.</i> By Heaven I swear he's rackt and whipt.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Hon.</i> Oh my poor Father!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Puts.</i> Burn, kill and burn.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Arc.</i> Hold, hold, I say: hold Souldiers,<br /> +On your allegiance hold.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> We must not.<br /> +<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span><i>Arc.</i> Hold:<br /> +I swear by Heaven he is a barbarous Traitor stirs first,<br /> +A Villain, and a stranger to Obedience,<br /> +Never my Souldier more, nor Friend to Honour:<br /> +Why did you use your old Man thus? thus cruelly<br /> +Torture his poor weak Body? I ever lov'd ye.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> Forget me in these wrongs, most noble <i>Archas</i>.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Arc.</i> I have balm enough for all my hurts: weep no more Sir<br /> +A satisfaction for a thousand sorrows;<br /> +<a name="p154_l9" id="p154_l9"></a>I do believe you innocent, a good man,<br /> +And Heaven forgive that naughty thing that wrong'd me:<br /> +Why look ye wild, my friends? why stare ye on me?<br /> +I charge ye, as ye are men, my men, my lovers,<br /> +As ye are honest faithful men, fair Souldiers,<br /> +Let down your anger: Is not this our Soveraign?<br /> +The head of mercy, and of Law? who dares then,<br /> +But Rebels, scorning Law, appear thus violent?<br /> +Is this a place for Swords? for threatning fires?<br /> +The Reverence of this House dares any touch,<br /> +But with obedient knees, and pious duties?<br /> +Are we not all his Subjects? all sworn to him?<br /> +Has not he power to punish our offences?<br /> +<a name="p154_l22" id="p154_l22"></a>And do we not daily fall into 'em? assure your selves<br /> +I did offend, and highly, grievously,<br /> +This good, sweet Prince I offended, my life forfeited,<br /> +Which yet his mercy and his old love met with,<br /> +And only let me feel his light rod this way:<br /> +Ye are to thank him for your General,<br /> +Pray for his life and fortune; swear your bloods for him.<br /> +Ye are offenders too, daily offenders,<br /> +Proud insolencies dwell in your hearts, and ye do 'em,<br /> +Do 'em against his Peace, his Law, his Person;<br /> +Ye see he only sorrows for your sins,<br /> +And where his power might persecute, forgives ye:<br /> +For shame put up your Swords, for honesty,<br /> +For orders sake, and whose ye are, my Souldiers,<br /> +Be not so rude.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> They have drawn blood from you, Sir.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Arc.</i> That was the blood rebell'd, the naughty blood,<br /> +The proud provoking blood; 'tis well 'tis out, Boy;<br /> +Give you example first; draw out, and orderly.<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span><br /> +<i>Hon.</i> Good Brother, do.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Arc.</i> Honest and high example,<br /> +As thou wilt have my Blessing follow thee,<br /> +Inherit all mine honours: thank ye <i>Theodore</i>,<br /> +My worthy Son.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> If harm come, thank your self, Sir,<br /> +I must obey ye. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exit.</i></span><br /> +<br /> +<i>Arc.</i> Captain, you know the way now:<br /> +A good man, and a valiant, you were ever,<br /> +Inclin'd to honest things; I thank ye, Captain. <span class="ralign">[<i>Ex. Soul.</i></span><br /> +Souldiers, I thank ye all: and love me still,<br /> +But do not love me so you lose Allegiance,<br /> +Love that above your lives: once more I thank ye.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> Bring him to rest, and let our cares wait on him;<br /> +Thou excellent old man, thou top of honour,<br /> +Where Justice, and Obedience only build,<br /> +Thou stock of Vertue, how am I bound to love thee!<br /> +In all thy noble ways to follow thee!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bur.</i> Remember him that vext him, Sir.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> Remember?<br /> +When I forget that Villain, and to pay him<br /> +For all his mischiefs, may all good thoughts forget me.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Arc.</i> I am very sore.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> Bring him to Bed with ease, Gentlemen,<br /> +For every stripe I'll drop a tear to wash 'em,<br /> +And in my sad Repentance—<br /> +<br /> +<i>Arc.</i> 'Tis too much,<br /> +I have a life yet left to gain that love, Sir. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exeunt.</i></span><br /> +</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 15%;" /> +<h3><i>Actus Quintus. Scena Prima.</i></h3> + + +<p class="center"><i>Enter Duke</i>, Burris, <i>and Gentlemen</i>.</p> + +<p> +<a name="p155_l31" id="p155_l31"></a><i>Duke.</i> How does Lord <i>Archas</i>?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bur.</i> But weak, and't please ye;<br /> +Yet all the helps that art can, are applied to him;<br /> +His heart's untoucht, and whole yet; and no doubt, Sir,<br /> +His mind being sound, his body soon will follow.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> O that base Knave that wrong'd him, without leave too;<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span>But I shall find an hour to give him thanks for't;<br /> +He's fast, I hope.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bur.</i> As fast as irons can keep him:<br /> +But the most fearful Wretch—<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> He has a Conscience,<br /> +A cruel stinging one I warrant him,<br /> +A loaden one: But what news of the Souldier?<br /> +I did not like their parting, 'twas too sullen.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bur.</i> That they keep still, and I fear a worse clap;<br /> +They are drawn out of the Town, and stand in counsels,<br /> +Hatching unquiet thoughts, and cruel purposes:<br /> +I went my self unto 'em, talkt with the Captains,<br /> +Whom I found fraught with nothing but loud murmurs,<br /> +And desperate curses, sounding these words often<br /> +Like Trumpets to their angers: we are ruin'd,<br /> +Our services turn'd to disgraces, mischiefs;<br /> +Our brave old General, like one had pilfer'd,<br /> +Tortur'd, and whipt: the Colonels eyes, like torches,<br /> +Blaze every where and fright fair peace.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Gent.</i> Yet worse, Sir;<br /> +The news is currant now, they mean to leave ye,<br /> +Leave their Allegiance; and under <i>Olins</i> Charge<br /> +The bloody Enemy march straight against ye.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bur.</i> I have heard this too, Sir.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> This must be prevented,<br /> +And suddenly, and warily.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bur.</i> 'Tis time, Sir,<br /> +But what to minister, or how?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> Go in with me,<br /> +And there we'll think upon't: such blows as these,<br /> +Equal defences ask, else they displease. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exeunt.</i></span><br /> +</p> + + +<h4>SCENE II.</h4> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> Petesca, <i>and Gentlewoman</i>.</p> + +<p> +<i>Pet.</i> Lord, what a coil has here been with these Souldiers!<br /> +They are cruel fellows.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Wom.</i> And yet methought we found 'em<br /> +Handsome enough; I'll tell thee true, <i>Petesca</i>,<br /> +I lookt for other manner of dealings from 'em,<br /> +And had prepar'd my self; but where's my Lady?<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span><br /> +<i>Pet.</i> In her old dumps within: monstrous melancholy;<br /> +Sure she was mad of this Wench.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Wom.</i> And she had been a man,<br /> +She would have been a great deal madder, I am glad she is shifted.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Pet.</i> 'Twas a wicked thing for me to betray her,<br /> +And yet I must confess she stood in our lights.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> Alinda.</p> + +<p> +What young thing's this?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Alin.</i> Good morrow beauteous Gentlewomen:<br /> +<a name="p157_l10" id="p157_l10"></a>'Pray ye is the Princess stirring yet?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Wom.</i> He has her face.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Pet.</i> Her very tongue, and tone too: her youth upon him.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Alin.</i> I guess ye to be the Princess Women.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Pet.</i> Yes, we are, Sir.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Alin.</i> Pray is there not a Gentlewoman waiting on her Grace,<br /> +Ye call <i>Alinda</i>?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Pet.</i> The Devil sure in her shape.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Wom.</i> I have heard her tell my Lady of a Brother,<br /> +An only Brother that she had: in travel—<br /> +<br /> +<i>Pet.</i> 'Mass, I remember that: this may be he too:<br /> +I would this thing would serve her.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> Olympia.</p> + +<p> +<i>Wom.</i> So would I Wench,<br /> +We should love him better sure: Sir, here's the Princess,<br /> +She best can satisfie ye.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Alin.</i> How I love that presence!<br /> +<a name="p157_l27" id="p157_l27"></a>O blessed Eyes, how nobly shine your comforts!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Olym.</i> What Gentleman is that?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Wom.</i> We know not, Madam:<br /> +He ask'd us for your Grace: and as we guess it,<br /> +He is <i>Alinda</i>'s Brother.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Olym.</i> Ha! let me mark him:<br /> +My grief has almost blinded me: her Brother?<br /> +By <i>Venus</i>, he has all her sweetness upon him:<br /> +Two silver drops of dew were never liker.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Alin.</i> Gracious Lady—<br /> +<br /> +<i>Olym.</i> That pleasant pipe he has too.<br /> +<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span><i>Alin.</i> Being my happiness to pass by this way,<br /> +And having as I understand by Letters,<br /> +A Sister in your vertuous service, Madam—<br /> +<br /> +<i>Olym.</i> O now my heart, my heart akes.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Alin.</i> All the comfort<br /> +My poor youth has, all that my hopes have built me,<br /> +I thought it my first duty, my best service,<br /> +Here to arrive first, humbly to thank your Grace<br /> +For my poor Sister, humbly to thank your Nobleness,<br /> +That bounteous Goodness in ye.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Olym.</i> 'Tis he certainly.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Alin.</i> That spring of favour to her; with my life, Madam,<br /> +If any such most happy means might meet me,<br /> +To shew my thankfulness.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Olym.</i> What have I done, Fool!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Alin.</i> She came a stranger to your Grace, no Courtier;<br /> +Nor of that curious breed befits your service,<br /> +Yet one I dare assure my Soul, that lov'd ye<br /> +Before she saw ye; doted on your Vertues;<br /> +Before she knew those fair eyes, long'd to read 'em,<br /> +You only had her prayers, you her wishes;<br /> +And that one hope to be yours once, preserv'd her.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Olym.</i> I have done wickedly.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Alin.</i> A little Beauty,<br /> +Such as a Cottage breeds, she brought along with her;<br /> +And yet our Country-eyes esteem'd it much too:<br /> +But for her beauteous mind, forget great Lady,<br /> +I am her Brother, and let me speak a stranger,<br /> +Since she was able to beget a thought, 'twas honest.<br /> +The daily study how to fit your services,<br /> +Truly to tread that vertuous path you walk in,<br /> +So fir'd her honest Soul, we thought her Sainted;<br /> +I presume she is still the same: I would fain see her,<br /> +For Madam, 'tis no little love I owe her.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Olym.</i> Sir, such a maid there was, I had—<br /> +<br /> +<i>Alin.</i> There was, Madam?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Olym.</i> O my poor Wench: eyes, I will ever curse ye<br /> +For your Credulity, <i>Alinda</i>.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Alin.</i> That's her name, Madam.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Olym.</i> Give me a little leave, Sir, to lament her.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Alin.</i> Is she dead, Lady?<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span><br /> +<i>Olym.</i> Dead, Sir, to my service.<br /> +She is gone, pray ye ask no further.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Alin.</i> I obey Madam:<br /> +Gone? now must I lament too: said ye gone Madam?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Olym.</i> Gone, gone for ever.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Alin.</i> That's a cruel saying:<br /> +Her honour too?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Olym.</i> Prithee look angry on me,<br /> +And if thou ever lovedst her, spit upon me;<br /> +Do something like a Brother, like a friend,<br /> +And do not only say thou lov'st her—<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> Ye amaze me.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Oly.</i> I ruin'd her, I wrong'd her, I abus'd her;<br /> +Poor innocent soul, I flung her; sweet <i>Alinda</i>,<br /> +Thou vertuous maid, my soul now calls thee vertuous.<br /> +Why do ye not rail now at me?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> For what Lady?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Oly.</i> Call me base treacherous woman.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> Heaven defend me.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Oly.</i> Rashly I thought her false, and put her from me,<br /> +Rashly, and madly I betrai'd her modesty,<br /> +Put her to wander, heaven knows where: nay, more Sir,<br /> +Stuck a black brand upon her.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> 'Twas not well Lady.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Oly.</i> 'Twas damnable: she loving me so dearly,<br /> +Never poor wench lov'd so: Sir believe me,<br /> +'Twas the most dutious wench, the best companion,<br /> +When I was pleas'd, the happiest, and the gladdest,<br /> +The modestest sweet nature dwelt within her:<br /> +I saw all this, I knew all this, I lov'd it,<br /> +I doated on it too, and yet I kill'd it:<br /> +O what have I forsaken? what have I lost?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> Madam, I'le take my leave, since she is wandring,<br /> +'Tis fit I know no rest.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Oly.</i> Will you go too Sir?<br /> +I have not wrong'd you yet, if you dare trust me,<br /> +For yet I love <i>Alinda</i> there, I honour her,<br /> +I love to look upon those eyes that speak her,<br /> +To read that face again, (modesty keep me,)<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span><i>Alinda</i>, in that shape: but why should you trust me,<br /> +'Twas I betray'd your Sister, I undid her;<br /> +And believe me, gentle youth, 'tis I weep for her:<br /> +Appoint what penance you please: but stay then,<br /> +And see me perform it: ask what honour this place<br /> +Is able to heap on ye, or what wealth:<br /> +If following me will like ye, my care of ye,<br /> +Which for your sisters sake, for your own goodness—<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> Not all the honour earth has, now she's gone Lady,<br /> +Not all the favour; yet if I sought preferment,<br /> +Under your bounteous Grace I would only take it.<br /> +Peace rest upon ye: one sad tear every day<br /> +For poor <i>Alindas</i>. sake, 'tis fit ye pay. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exit.</i></span><br /> +<br /> +<i>Oly.</i> A thousand noble youth, and when I sleep,<br /> +Even in my silver slumbers still I'le weep. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exit.</i></span><br /> +</p> + + +<h4>SCENA III.</h4> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> Duke, <i>and Gentlemen</i>.</p> + +<p> +<i>Duke.</i> Have ye been with 'em?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Gent.</i> Yes, and't please your Grace,<br /> +But no perswasion serves 'em, nor no promise,<br /> +They are fearfull angry, and by this time Sir,<br /> +Upon their march to the Enemy.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> They must be stopt.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> Burris.</p> + +<p> +<i>Gent.</i> I, but what force is able? and what leader—<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> How now, have you been with <i>Archas</i>?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bur.</i> Yes, and't please ye,<br /> +And told him all: he frets like a chaf'd Lyon,<br /> +And calls for his Arms: and all those honest Courtiers<br /> +That dare draw Swords.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> Is he able to do any thing?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bur.</i> His mind is well enough; and where his charge is,<br /> +Let him be ne're so sore, 'tis a full Army.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> Who commands the Rebels?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bur.</i> The young Colonel,<br /> +That makes the old man almost mad: he swears Sir,<br /> +He will not spare his Sons head for the Dukedom.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> Is the Court in Arms?<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span><br /> +<i>Bur.</i> As fast as they can bustle,<br /> +Every man mad to goe now: inspir'd strangely,<br /> +As if they were to force the Enemy,<br /> +I beseech your Grace to give me leave.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> Pray go Sir,<br /> +And look to the old man well; take up all fairly,<br /> +And let no bloud be spilt; take general pardons,<br /> +And quench this fury with fair peace.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bur.</i> I shall Sir,<br /> +Or seal it with my service; they are villains:<br /> +The Court is up: good Sir, go strengthen 'em,<br /> +Your Royal sight will make 'em scorn all dangers;<br /> +The General needs no proof.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Duke.</i> Come let's go view 'em. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exeunt.</i></span><br /> +</p> + + +<h4>SCENA IV.</h4> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> Theodore, Putskie, <i>Ancient</i>, <i>Souldiers</i>, <i>Drums</i>, +<i>and Colours</i>.</p> + +<p> +<i>The.</i> 'Tis known we are up, and marching: no submission,<br /> +No promise of base peace can cure our maladies,<br /> +We have suffer'd beyond all repair of honour:<br /> +Your valiant old man's whipt; whipt Gentlemen,<br /> +Whipt like a slave: that flesh that never trembled,<br /> +Nor shrunk one sinew at a thousand charges,<br /> +That noble body rib'd in arms, the Enemy<br /> +So often shook at, and then shun'd like thunder,<br /> +That body's torn with lashes.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Anc.</i> Let's turn head.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Put.</i> Turn nothing Gentlemen, let's march on fairly,<br /> +Unless they charge us.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> Think still of his abuses,<br /> +And keep your angers.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Anc.</i> He was whipt like a top,<br /> +I never saw a whore so lac'd: Court school-butter?<br /> +Is this their diet? I'le dress 'em one running banquet:<br /> +What Oracle can alter us? did not we see him?<br /> +See him we lov'd?<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> And though we did obey him,<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span>Forc'd by his reverence for that time; is't fit Gentlemen?<br /> +My noble friends, is't fit we men, and Souldiers,<br /> +Live to endure this, and look on too?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Put.</i> Forward:<br /> +They may call back the Sun as soon, stay time,<br /> +Prescribe a Law to death, as we endure this.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> They will make ye all fair promises.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Anc.</i> We care not.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> Use all their arts upon ye.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Anc.</i> Hang all their arts.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Put.</i> And happily they'l bring him with 'em.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Anc.</i> March apace then,<br /> +He is old and cannot overtake us.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Put.</i> Say he doe.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Anc.</i> We'l run away with him: they shall never see him more:<br /> +The truth is, we'l hear nothing, stop at nothing,<br /> +Consider nothing but our way; believe nothing,<br /> +Not though they say their prayers: be content with nothing,<br /> +But the knocking out their brains: and last, do nothing<br /> +But ban 'em and curse 'em, till we come to kill 'em.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> Remove then forwards bravely; keep your minds whole,<br /> +And the next time we face 'em, shall be fatal. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exeunt.</i></span><br /> +</p> + + +<h4>SCENA V.</h4> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> Archas, <i>Duke,</i> Burris, <i>Gent</i>, <i>and Sould</i>.</p> + +<p> +<i>Ar.</i> Peace to your Grace; take rest Sir, they are before us.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Gent.</i> They are Sir, and upon the march. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exit</i> Duke.</span><br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> Lord <i>Burris</i>,<br /> +Take you those horse and coast 'em: upon the first advantage,<br /> +<a name="p162_l29" id="p162_l29"></a>If they will not slake their march, charge 'em up roundly,<br /> +By that time I'le come in.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bur.</i> I'le do it truly. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exit.</i></span><br /> +<br /> +<i>Gent.</i> How do you feel your self Sir?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> Well, I thank ye;<br /> +A little weak, but anger shall supply that;<br /> +You will all stand bravely to it?<br /> +<br /> +<i>All.</i> Whilst we have lives Sir.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> Ye speak like Gentlemen; I'le make the knaves know,<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span>The proudest, and the strongest hearted Rebel,<br /> +They have a law to live in, and they shall have;<br /> +Beat up a pace, by this time he is upon 'em, <span class="ralign">[<i>Drum within.</i></span><br /> +And sword, but hold me now, thou shalt play ever. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exeunt.</i></span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter Drums beating</i>, Theodore, Putskie, <i>Ancient</i>, +<i>and their Souldiers.</i></p> + +<p> +<i>The.</i> Stand, stand, stand close, and sure;<br /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> Burris, <i>and 1 or 2 Souldiers</i>.</p> + +<p> +The horse will charge us.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Anc.</i> Let 'em come on, we have provender fit for 'em.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Put.</i> Here comes Lord <i>Burris</i> Sir, I think to parly.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> You are welcom noble Sir, I hope to our part.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bur.</i> No, valiant Colonel, I am come to chide ye,<br /> +To pity ye; to kill ye, if these fail me;<br /> +Fie, what dishonour seek ye! what black infamy!<br /> +Why do ye draw out thus? draw all shame with ye?<br /> +Are these fit cares in subjects? I command ye<br /> +Lay down your arms again, move in that peace,<br /> +That fair obedience you were bred in.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Put.</i> Charge us:<br /> +We come not here to argue.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> Charge up bravely,<br /> +And hotly too, we have hot spleens to meet ye,<br /> +Hot as the shames are offer'd us.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> Archas, <i>Gent. and Souldiers</i>.</p> + +<p> +<i>Bur.</i> Look behind ye.<br /> +Do you see that old man? do you know him Souldiers?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Put.</i> Your Father Sir, believe me—<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bur.</i> You know his marches,<br /> +You have seen his executions: is it yet peace?<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> We'l dye here first.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bur.</i> Farewel: you'l hear on's presently.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> Stay <i>Burris</i>: this is too poor, too beggerly a body<br /> +To bear the honour of a charge from me,<br /> +A sort of tatter'd Rebels; go provide Gallowses;<br /> +Ye are troubled with hot heads, I'le cool ye presently:<br /> +These look like men that were my Souldiers<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span>Now I behold 'em nearly, and more narrowly,<br /> +My honest friends: where got they these fair figures?<br /> +Where did they steal these shapes?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bur.</i> They are struck already.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> Do you see that fellow there, that goodly Rebel?<br /> +He looks as like a Captain I lov'd tenderly:<br /> +A fellow of a faith indeed.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bur.</i> He has sham'd him.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> And that that bears the Colours there, most certain<br /> +So like an Ancient of mine own, a brave fellow,<br /> +A loving and obedient, that believe me <i>Burris</i>,<br /> +I am amaz'd and troubled: and were it not<br /> +I know the general goodness of my people,<br /> +The duty, and the truth, the stedfast honestie,<br /> +And am assur'd they would as soon turn Devils<br /> +As rebels to allegeance, for mine honour.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bur.</i> Here needs no wars.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Put.</i> I pray forgive us Sir.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Anc.</i> Good General forgive us, or use your sword,<br /> +Your words are double death.<br /> +<br /> +<i>All.</i> Good noble General.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bur.</i> Pray Sir be mercifull.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> Weep out your shames first,<br /> +Ye make me fool for companie: fie Souldiers,<br /> +My Souldiers too, and play these tricks? what's he there?<br /> +Sure I have seen his face too; yes, most certain<br /> +I have a son, but I hope he is not here now,<br /> +'Would much resemble this man, wondrous near him,<br /> +Just of his height and making too, you seem a Leader.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> Good Sir, do not shame me more: I know your anger,<br /> +And less than death I look not for.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> You shall be my charge Sir, it seems you want foes,<br /> +When you would make your friends your Enemies.<br /> +A running bloud ye have, but I shall cure ye.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bur.</i> Good Sir—<br /> +<br /> +<i>An.</i> No more good Lord: beat forward Souldiers:<br /> +And you, march in the rear, you have lost your places. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exeunt.</i></span><br /> +</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span></p> + + +<h4>SCENA VI.</h4> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter Duke</i>, Olympia, Honora, Viola.</p> + +<p> +<i>Du.</i> You shall not be thus sullen still with me Sister,<br /> +You do the most unnobly to be angry,<br /> +For as I have a soul, I never touch'd her,<br /> +I never yet knew one unchast thought in her:<br /> +I must confess, I lov'd her: as who would not?<br /> +I must confess I doated on her strangely,<br /> +I offer'd all, yet so strong was her honour,<br /> +So fortifi'd as fair, no hope could reach her,<br /> +And whilst the world beheld this, and confirm'd it,<br /> +Why would you be so jealous?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Oly.</i> Good Sir pardon me,<br /> +I feel sufficiently my follies penance,<br /> +And am asham'd, that shame a thousand sorrows<br /> +Feed on continually, would I had never seen her,<br /> +Or with a clearer judgement look'd upon her,<br /> +She was too good for me, so heavenly good Sir,<br /> +Nothing but Heaven can love that soul sufficiently,<br /> +Where I shall see her once again.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> Burris.</p> + +<p> +<i>Du.</i> No more tears,<br /> +If she be within the Dukedom, we'l recover her:<br /> +Welcom Lord <i>Burris</i>, fair news I hope.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bur.</i> Most fair Sir,<br /> +Without one drop of bloud these wars are ended,<br /> +The Souldier cool'd again, indeed asham'd Sir,<br /> +And all his anger ended.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> Where's Lord <i>Archas</i>?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bur.</i> Not far off Sir: with him his valiant son,<br /> +Head of this fire, but now a prisoner,<br /> +And if by your sweet mercy not prevented,<br /> +I fear some fatal stroke. <span class="ralign">[<i>Drums.</i></span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> Archas, Theodore, <i>Gentlemen</i>, <i>Souldiers</i>.</p> + +<p> +<i>Du.</i> I hear the Drums beat,<br /> +Welcom, my worthy friend.<br /> +<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span><i>Ar.</i> Stand where ye are Sir,<br /> +Even as you love your country, move not forward,<br /> +Nor plead for peace till I have done a justice,<br /> +A justice on this villain; none of mine now,<br /> +A justice on this Rebel.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Hon.</i> O my Brother.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> This fatal firebrand—<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> Forget not old man,<br /> +He is thy son, of thine own bloud.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> In these veins<br /> +No treacherie e're harbour'd yet, no mutinie,<br /> +I ne're gave life to lewd and headstrong Rebels.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> 'Tis his first fault.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> Not of a thousand Sir,<br /> +Or were it so, it is a fault so mightie,<br /> +So strong against the nature of all mercy,<br /> +His Mother were she living, would not weep for him,<br /> +He dare not say he would live.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> I must not Sir,<br /> +Whilst you say 'tis not fit: your Graces mercy<br /> +Not to my life appli'd, but to my fault Sir,<br /> +The worlds forgiveness next, last, on my knees Sir,<br /> +I humbly beg,<br /> +Do not take from me yet the name of Father,<br /> +Strike me a thousand blows, but let me dye yours.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> He moves my heart: I must be suddain with him,<br /> +I shall grow faint else in my execution;<br /> +Come, come Sir, you have seen death; now meet him bravely.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> Hold, hold I say, a little hold, consider<br /> +Thou hast no more sons <i>Archas</i> to inherit thee.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> Yes Sir, I have another, and a nobler:<br /> +No treason shall inherit me: young <i>Archas</i><br /> +A boy, as sweet as young, my Brother breeds him,<br /> +My noble Brother <i>Briskie</i> breeds him nobly,<br /> +Him let your favour find: give him your honour.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> Putskie (<i>alias</i> Briskie) <i>and</i> Alinda, (<i>alias</i> Archas.)</p> + +<p> +<i>Pu.</i> Thou hast no child left <i>Archas</i>, none to inherit thee<br /> +If thou strikst that stroke now: behold young <i>Archas</i>;<br /> +Behold thy Brother here, thou bloudy Brother,<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span>As bloody to this sacrifice as thou art:<br /> +Heave up thy sword, and mine's heav'd up: strike <i>Archas</i>,<br /> +And I'le strike too as suddenly, as deadly:<br /> +Have mercy, and I'le have mercy: the Duke gives it.<br /> +Look upon all these, how they weep it from thee,<br /> +Choose quickly, and begin.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> On your obedience,<br /> +On your allegeance save him.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> Take him to ye, <span class="ralign">[<i>Soul. shout.</i></span><br /> +And sirrah, be an honest man, ye have reason:<br /> +I thank ye worthy Brother: welcom child,<br /> +Mine own sweet child.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> Why was this boy conceal'd thus?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Put.</i> Your graces pardon:<br /> +Fearing the vow you made against my Brother,<br /> +And that your anger would not only light<br /> +On him, but find out all his familie,<br /> +This young boy, to preserve from after danger,<br /> +Like a young wench, hither I brought; my self<br /> +In the habit of an ordinarie Captain<br /> +Disguis'd, got entertainment, and serv'd here<br /> +That I might still be ready to all fortunes:<br /> +<a name="p167_l22" id="p167_l22"></a>That boy your Grace took, nobly entertain'd him,<br /> +But thought a Girle, <i>Alinda</i>, Madam.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ol.</i> Stand away,<br /> +And let me look upon him.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> My young Mistris?<br /> +This is a strange metamorphosis, <i>Alinda</i>?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Al.</i> Your graces humble servant.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> Come hither Sister:<br /> +I dare yet scarce believe mine eyes: how they view one another?<br /> +Dost thou not love this boy well?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Oly.</i> I should lye else,<br /> +Trust me, extreamly lye Sir.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> Didst thou never wish <i>Olympia</i>,<br /> +It might be thus?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Oly.</i> A thousand times.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> Here take him:<br /> +Nay, do not blush: I do not jest; kiss sweetly:<br /> +Boy, ye kiss faintly boy; Heaven give ye comfort;<br /> +Teach him, he'l quickly learn: there's two hearts eas'd now.<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span><br /> +<i>Ar.</i> You do me too much honour Sir.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> No <i>Archas</i>,<br /> +But all I can, I will; can you love me? speak truly.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Hon.</i> Yes Sir, dearly.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> Come hither <i>Viola</i>, can you love this man?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Vio.</i> I'le do the best I can Sir.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> Seal it <i>Burris</i>,<br /> +We'l all to Church together instantly:<br /> +And then a vie for boyes; stay, bring <i>Boroskie</i>.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> Boroskie.</p> + +<p> +I had almost forgot that lump of mischief.<br /> +There <i>Archas</i>, take the enemie to honour,<br /> +The knave to worth: do with him what thou wilt.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> Then to my sword again; you to your prayers;<br /> +Wash off your villanies, you feel the burthen.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> Forgive me e're I die, most honest <i>Archas</i>;<br /> +'Tis too much honour that I perish thus;<br /> +O strike my faults to kill them, that no memorie,<br /> +No black and blasted infamy hereafter——<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> Come, are ye ready?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> Yes.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> And truly penitent, to make your way straight?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> Thus I wash off my sins.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Ar.</i> Stand up, and live then,<br /> +And live an honest man; I scorn mens ruines:<br /> +Take him again, Sir, trie him: and believe<br /> +This thing will be a perfect man.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> I take him.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bor.</i> And when I fail those hopes, heavens hopes fail me.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> You are old: no more wars Father:<br /> +<i>Theodore</i> take you the charge, be General.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The.</i> All good bless ye.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Du.</i> And my good Father, you dwell in my bosom,<br /> +From you rise all my good thoughts: when I would think<br /> +And examine time for one that's fairly noble,<br /> +And the same man through all the streights of vertue,<br /> +Upon this Silver book I'le look, and read him.<br /> +Now forward merrily to <a name="p168_l38" id="p168_l38"></a><i>Hymens</i> rites,<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span>To joyes, and revels, sports, and he that can<br /> +Most honour <i>Archas</i>, is the noblest man. <span class="ralign">[<i>Exeunt.</i></span><br /> +</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 15%;" /> +<h2><a name="Prologue" id="Prologue"></a>Prologue.</h2> + + +<p> +<i>We need not noble Gentlemen to invite<br /> +Attention, preinstruct you who did write<br /> +This worthy Story, being confident<br /> +The mirth join'd with grave matter, and Intent<br /> +To yield the hearers profit, with delight,<br /> +Will speak the maker: and to do him right,<br /> +Would ask a Genius like to his; the age<br /> +Mourning his loss, and our now widdowed stage<br /> +In vain lamenting. I could adde, so far<br /> +Behind him the most modern writers are,<br /> +That when they would commend him, their best praise<br /> +Ruins the buildings which they strive to raise<br /> +To his best memory, so much a friend<br /> +Presumes to write, secure 'twill not offend<br /> +The living that are modest, with the rest<br /> +That may repine he cares not to contest.<br /> +This debt to <span class="f">Fletcher</span> paid; it is profest<br /> +By us the Actors, we will do our best<br /> +To send such favouring friends, as hither come<br /> +To grace the Scene, pleas'd, and contented home.</i><br /> +</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 15%;" /> +<h2><a name="Epilogue" id="Epilogue"></a>Epilogue.</h2> + +<p> +<i>Though something well assur'd, few here repent<br /> +Three hours of pretious time, or money spent<br /> +On our endeavours, Yet not to relye<br /> +Too much upon our care, and industrie,<br /> +'Tis fit we should ask, but a modest way<br /> +How you approve our action in the play.<br /> +If you vouchsafe to crown it with applause,<br /> +It is your bountie, and you give us cause<br /> +Hereafter with a general consent<br /> +To study, as becomes us, your content.</i><a name="p169_l34" id="p169_l34"></a><br /> +</p> + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_457" id="Page_457">[Pg 457]</a></span></p> +<p> </p> + + +<p> +p. <b>47</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 9. <i>Adds</i> Finis Actus Tertii.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 11. Servant and R. Bax, and.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 12. A stirs a stirs.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 26. barkes.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>48</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 34. and whom.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>49</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 26. his fierce.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 29. roome then.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 30. and old.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 33. your rare.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 37. her Ladies.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>50</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 12. I must.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>51</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 2. has.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 7. 2nd folio <i>misprints</i>] Philax.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>52</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 1. <i>Adds as follows</i>]</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 8em;"><i>Clo.</i> Why that ye wo't of,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 8em;"><i>Chi.</i> The turne the good turne?</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 8em;"><i>Clo.</i> Any turne the Roche turne;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 8em;"><i>Chi.</i> That's the right turne for that turnes up the bellie, I cannot, <i>etc.</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 17. as brickle.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 20. That think no.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>55</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 7. ath'.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 8. ath' the.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 17. weaker.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 29. a that.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 38. a will.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>56</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 26. 2nd folio <i>misprints</i>] ne's.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 29. A comes.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 35. stand up my.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>57</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 14. rogue.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 21. art ta?</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 23. art ta?</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 32. thou art a.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 39. doe ye.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>58</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 18. Lyons.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 26. <i>Adds</i> Finis Actus Quarti.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 28. Priest.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 30. a your.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>60</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 9. cure this.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 10. He's man.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 12. is now.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 16. Oracle, Arras.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>61</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 36. therefore, thy.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>62</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 3. Therefore be.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 9. I shall.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 19. a had.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 36. 2nd folio] ha'!</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>63</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 6. A will.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 14. makes he.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 28. Battell.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>64</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 2. <i>Omits</i> and.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 7. in boyes in boyes.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 38. 2nd folio <i>misprints</i>] Cle.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>65</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 17. <i>Omits</i> her.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>67</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 10. 2nd folio <i>omits</i>] Chi. (<i>char.</i>).</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 10. Chickens.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 24. weepes.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 26. A was.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 27. Ye have.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>69</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 8. and like.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 33. Cleanthe, Curtisan, Lords.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>70</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 6. my glorious.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 34. a sight.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 36. ye could. <i>Adds as next line</i>] Roome before there. <i>Knock.</i></span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>71</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 8. <i>Prints</i> To the, etc., <i>as a separate line and as a heading</i>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 9. <i>For</i> Eum. <i>reads</i> 1. Cap.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>73</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 15. lov'st her.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 31. 2nd folio] Sister!</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>75</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 13. the Saylors sing.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 28. utters.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 32. <i>Adds</i> Finis.</span><br /> +</p> + + +<p> </p> +<h4>THE LOYAL SUBJECT.</h4> + + +<p> +p. <b>76</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p76_l3">ll. 3-40.</a> Not in 1st folio.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>78</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p78_l14">l. 14.</a> Archus.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p78_l15">l. 15.</a> souldier.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p78_l23">l. 23.</a> Archus.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p78_l37">l. 37.</a> now you.</span><br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_458" id="Page_458">[Pg 458]</a></span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>79</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p79_l4">l. 4.</a> 2nd folio <i>misprints</i>] Pet.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>80</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p80_l24">l. 24.</a> eyes.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>82</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p82_l4">l. 4.</a> But to.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p82_l31">l. 31.</a> 2nd folio <i>misprints</i>] Augel.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>84</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p84_l35">l. 35.</a> 2nd folio <i>misprints</i>] Gentlenem.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>86</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p86_l2">l. 2.</a> pray ye be.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p86_l38">l. 38.</a> thanke high heaven.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>87</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p87_l1">l. 1.</a> 2nd folio] in'?</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p87_l30">l. 30.</a> <i>Omits</i> Exit.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>90</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p90_l4">l. 4.</a> a pieces.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p90_l30">l. 30.</a> beseech yee.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>91</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p91_l6">l. 6.</a> marvelous fine.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>92</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p92_l8">l. 8.</a> too late to.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p92_l10">l. 10.</a> tremble.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p92_l30">l. 30.</a> <i>Adds</i> Exeunt.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>94</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p94_l14">l. 14.</a> Of every.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>96</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p96_l18">l. 18.</a> 2nd folio <i>misprints</i>] may.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p96_l34">l. 34.</a> and 'has.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p96_l38">l. 38.</a> And noise.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>97</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p97_l23">l. 23.</a> who, for.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p97_l25">l. 25.</a> And shewrd.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>103</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p103_l35">l. 35.</a> 2nd folio <i>misprints</i>] Lorship.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>106</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p106_l16">l. 16.</a> 2nd folio] feed then.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>107</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p107_l18">l. 18.</a> it fits so.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>112</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p112_l8">l. 8.</a> fishmarket.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p112_l28">l. 28.</a> paintings.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p112_l32">l. 32.</a> 2nd folio <i>misprints</i>] Aac.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>113</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p113_l30">l. 30.</a> 'has.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p113_l34">l. 34.</a> blame ye.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>114</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p114_l34">l. 34.</a> 'Has.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>115</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p115_l3">l. 3.</a> ye see.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p115_l28">l. 28.</a> me Armes.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p115_l38">l. 38.</a> None, none my Lord.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>116</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p116_l1">l. 1.</a> Thanke ye.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p116_l18">l. 18.</a> me too far.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p116_l31">l. 31.</a> he is.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>117</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p117_l21">l. 21.</a> content like harmles.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>118</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p118_l17">l. 17.</a> the fashion to.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>119</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p119_l21">l. 21.</a> ungrased.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p119_l38">l. 38.</a> 2nd folio <i>misprints</i>] Is.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>120</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p120_l34">l. 34.</a> art not mad.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>123</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p123_l37">l. 37.</a> serv'd yee.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>124</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p124_l11">l. 11.</a> <i>Omits</i> do.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p124_l15">l. 15.</a> women.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p124_l21">l. 21.</a> thinke ye.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>125</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p125_l1">l. 1.</a> it; 'sod if.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p125_l24">l. 24.</a> Wickedly.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>127</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p127_l16">l. 16.</a> yeare.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>128</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p128_l9">l. 9.</a> <i>Reads stage direction</i>] Exit.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>130</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p130_l6">l. 6.</a> 2nd folio <i>misprints</i>] Bur.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p130_l10">l. 10.</a> <i>Omits</i> please.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>134</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p134_l31">l. 31.</a> hast ruine.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>136</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p136_l31">l. 31.</a> <i>The catchword at the foot of the page in the 1st folio is</i> And.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>138</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p138_l37">l. 37.</a> 2nd folio] Broms.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>139</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p139_l1">l. 1.</a> no trade.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p139_l7">l. 7.</a> 2nd folio] traeds.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>140</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p140_l27">l. 27.</a> of your.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>141</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p141_l37">l. 37.</a> thats that.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p141_l39">l. 39.</a> 2nd folio <i>misprints</i>] Hoa.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>142</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p142_l30">l. 30.</a> 2nd folio <i>misprints</i>] Dou.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>146</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p146_l18">l. 18.</a> tal.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>147</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p147_l22">l. 22.</a> <i>Omits</i> are.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>148</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p148_l36">l. 36.</a> till ye.</span><br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_459" id="Page_459">[Pg 459]</a></span><br /> +p. <b>149</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p149_l40">l. 40.</a> <i>Adds</i> Exit.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>150</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p150_l8">l. 8.</a> that told.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p150_l18">l. 18.</a> 2nd folio <i>misprints</i>] guily.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>151</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p151_l13">l. 13.</a> Sword.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p151_l31">l. 31.</a> and Kits.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p151_l36">l. 36.</a> well meet.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>153</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p153_l15">l. 15.</a> 'May do.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p153_l25">l. 25.</a> see these.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>154</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p154_l9">l. 9.</a> beleeve ye.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p154_l22">l. 22.</a> not we.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>155</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p155_l31">l. 31.</a> Archas yet?</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>157</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p157_l10">l. 10.</a> Pray you.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p157_l27">l. 27.</a> shines.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>162</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p162_l29">l. 29.</a> not slacke.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>167</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p167_l22">l. 22.</a> The boy.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>168</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p168_l38">l. 38.</a> Hymens rights.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>169</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><a href="#p169_l34">l. 34.</a> <i>Adds</i> Finis.</span><br /> +</p> + + +<p> </p> +<h4>RULE A WIFE, AND HAVE A WIFE.</h4> + +<p>The Dramatis Personæ are not given in the quarto of 1640 nor in the 2nd +folio. They are as follows:—Duke of Medina. Juan de Castro, Sanchio, +Alonzo, Michael Perez, Officers. Leon, Altea's brother. Cacafogo, a userer. +Lorenzo. Coachman, etc. Margarita. Altea. Estifania. Clara. Three old +ladies. Old woman. Maids, etc.</p> + +<p>Unless where otherwise stated the following variations are from the quarto +of 1640, the title-page of which runs thus:—</p> + +<p>Rule a Wife | And have a Wife. | A comoedy. | Acted by his | Majesties +Servants. | Written by | John Fletcher | Gent. | Oxford, | Printed by Leonard +Lichfield | Printer to the University. | Anno 1640.</p> + +<p> +p. <b>170</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 30. mouth.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>171</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 14. most sublest.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 18. With yee.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 19. them.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 38. <i>and often elsewhere</i>] um <i>for</i> 'em.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>172</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 2. the picke.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>173</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 22. thank ye.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>175</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 1. Yes I.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 29. Exit.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 31. mine ayme.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>176</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 30. 2nd folio <i>prints</i>] calling. | And</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>178</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 10. a starv'd.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 22. look'st.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 24. 2nd folio <i>misprints</i>] hear.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>179</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 33. Or any.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>182</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">ll. 6, etc. Quarto <i>frequently prints</i> 4. <i>for</i> Altea <i>here and in similar places</i>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 33. doubty.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>183</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 2. Has not.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 3. 2nd folio <i>misprints</i>] hin.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 5. Has no.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 38. 2nd folio <i>misprints</i>] compaines.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>184</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 13. a house.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>185</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 2. Altea, the Ladies.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 4. has been.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>187</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 26. I finde.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>189</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 28. enter'd here.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 39. salute him.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>190</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 25. if she.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>194</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">ll. 8 and 11. <i>Omits</i> Lady <i>here and often similarly elsewhere</i>.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>196</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 26. Exit.</span><br /> +<br /> +p. <b>197</b>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">l. 20. basinesse.</span><br /> +</p> + + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Beaumont & Fletcher's Works (3 of 10): +The Loyal Subject, by Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BEAUMONT & FLETCHER'S WORKS *** + +***** This file should be named 39249-h.htm or 39249-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/9/2/4/39249/ + +Produced by Jonathan Ingram and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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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/license + + +Title: Beaumont & Fletcher's Works (3 of 10): The Loyal Subject + +Author: Francis Beaumont + John Fletcher + +Release Date: March 24, 2012 [EBook #39249] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BEAUMONT & FLETCHER'S WORKS *** + + + + +Produced by Jonathan Ingram and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + THE + LOYAL SUBJECT, + A + TRAGI-COMEDY. + + + Persons Represented in the Play. + + _Great_ Duke _of_ Moscovia. + Archas, _the Loyal Subject_, _General of the_ Moscovites. + Theodore, _Son to_ Archas; _valorous, but impatient_. + Putskie _alias_ Briskie, _a Captain_, _Brother to_ Archas. + Alinda _alias_ Archas, _Son to_ Archas. + Burris, _an honest Lord_, _the Dukes Favourite_. + Boroskie, _a malicious seducing Councellor to the Duke_. + _Ensign to_ Archas, _a stout merry Souldier_. + _Souldiers._ + _Gentlemen._ + _Guard._ + _Servants._ + + _WOMEN._ + + Olympia, _Sister to the Duke_. + Honora, } _Daughters of_ Archas. + Viola, } + Potesca, } _Servants to_ Olympia. + Ladies, } + _Bawd_, _a Court Lady_. + + + _The Scene_ Mosco. + + + The principal Actors were, + + _Richard Burbadge._ } { _Nathanael Feild._ + _Henry Condel._ } { _John Underwood._ + _John Lowin._ } { _Nicholas Toolie._ + _Richard Sharpe._ } { _William Eglestone._ + + + + +_Actus primus. Scena prima._ + + + _Enter_ Theodor _and_ Putskie. + + _The._ Captain, your friend's prefer'd, the Princess has her, + Who, I assure my self, will use her nobly; + A pretty sweet one 'tis indeed. + + _Put._ Well bred, Sir, + I do deliver that upon my credit, + And of an honest stock. + + _The._ It seems so, Captain, + And no doubt will do well. + + _Put._ Thanks to your care, Sir; + But tell me Noble Colonel, why this habit + Of discontent is put on through the Army? + And why your valiant Father, our great General, + The hand that taught to strike, the Love that led all; + Why he, that was the Father of the War, + He that begot, and bred the Souldier, + Why he sits shaking of his Arms, like Autumn, + His Colours folded, and his Drums cas'd up, + The tongue of War for ever ty'd within us? + + _The._ It must be so: Captain you are a stranger, + But of a small time here a Souldier, + Yet that time shews ye a right good, and great one, + Else I could tell ye hours are strangely alter'd: + The young Duke has too many eyes upon him, + Too many fears 'tis thought too, and to nourish those, + Maintains too many Instruments. + + _Put._ Turn their hearts, + Or turn their heels up, Heaven: 'Tis strange it should be: + The old Duke lov'd him dearly. + + _The._ He deserv'd it; + And were he not my Father, I durst tell ye, + The memorable hazards he has run through + Deserv'd of this man too; highly deserv'd too; + Had they been less, they had been safe _Putskie_, + And sooner reach'd regard. + + _Put._ There you struck sure, Sir. + + _The._ Did I never tell thee of a vow he made + Some years before the old Duke dyed? + + _Put._ I have heard ye + Speak often of that vow; but how it was, + Or to what end, I never understood yet. + + _The._ I'le tell thee then: and then thou wilt find the reason: + The last great Muster, ('twas before ye serv'd here, + Before the last Dukes death, whose honour'd bones + Now rest in peace) this young Prince had the ordering, + (To Crown his Fathers hopes) of all the Army: + Who (to be short) put all his power to practise; + Fashion'd, and drew 'em up: but alas, so poorly, + So raggedly and loosely, so unsouldier'd, + The good Duke blush'd, and call'd unto my Father, + Who then was General: Go, _Archas_, speedily, + And chide the Boy, before the Souldiers find him, + Stand thou between his ignorance and them, + Fashion their bodies new to thy direction; + Then draw thou up, and shew the Prince his errours. + My Sire obey'd, and did so; with all duty + Inform'd the Prince, and read him all directions: + This bred distaste, distaste grew up to anger, + And anger into wild words broke out thus: + Well, _Archas_, if I live but to command here, + To be but Duke once, I shall then remember. + I shall remember truly, trust me, I shall, + And by my Fathers hand--the rest his eyes spoke. + To which my Father answer'd (somewhat mov'd too) + And with a vow he seal'd it: Royal Sir, + Since for my faith and fights, your scorn and anger + Only pursue me; if I live to that day, + That day so long expected to reward me, + By his so ever noble hand you swore by, + And by the hand of Justice, never Arms more + Shall rib this body in, nor sword hang here, Sir: + The Conflicts I will do you service then in, + Shall be repentant prayers: So they parted. + The time is come; and now ye know the wonder. + + _Put._ I find a fear too, which begins to tell me, + The Duke will have but poor and slight defences, + If his hot humour raign, and not his honour: + How stand you with him, Sir? + + _The._ A perdue Captain, + Full of my Fathers danger. + + _P[ut]._ He has rais'd a young man, + They say a slight young man, I know him not, + For what desert? + + _The._ Believe it, a brave Gentleman, + Worth the Dukes respect, a clear sweet Gentleman, + And of a noble soul: Come let's retire us, + And wait upon my Father, who within this hour + You will find an alter'd man. + + _Put._ I am sorry for't, Sir. [_Exeunt._ + + +SCENE II. + + _Enter_ Olympia, _and two Gentlewomen_. + + _Olym._ Is't not a handsome Wench? + + _2 Wom._ She is well enough, Madam: + I have seen a better face, and a straighter body, + And yet she is a pretty Gentlewoman. + + _Olym._ What thinkst thou _Petesca_? + + _Pet._ Alas, Madam, I have no skill, she has a black eye, + Which is of the least too, and the dullest water: + And when her mouth was made, for certain Madam, + Nature intended her a right good stomach. + + _Olym._ She has a good hand. + + _2 Wom._ 'Tis good enough to hold fast, + And strong enough to strangle the neck of a Lute. + + _Olym._ What think ye of her colour? + + _Pet._ If it be her own + 'Tis good black blood: right weather-proof + I warrant it. + + _2 Wom._ What a strange pace she has got! + + _Olym._ That's but her breeding. + + _Pet._ And what a manly body! me thinks she looks + As though she would pitch the Bar, or go to Buffets. + + _2 Wom._ Yet her behaviour's utterly against it, + For me thinks she is too bashful. + + _Olym._ Is that hurtful? + + _2 Wom._ Even equal to too bold: either of 'em, Madam, + May do her injury when time shall serve her. + + _Olym._ You discourse learnedly, call in the wench. [_Ex. Gent._ + What envious fools are you? Is the rule general, + That Women can speak handsomly of none, + But those they are bred withal? + + _Pet._ Scarce well of those, Madam, + If they believe they may out-shine 'em any way: + Our natures are like Oyl, compound us with any thing, + Yet still we strive to swim o' th' top: + Suppose there were here now, + Now in this Court of _Mosco_, a stranger Princess, + Of bloud and beauty equal to your excellence, + As many eyes and services stuck on her; + What would you think? + + _Olym._ I would think she might deserve it. + + _Pet._ Your Grace shall give me leave not to believe ye; + I know you are a Woman, and so humour'd: + I'le tell ye Madam, I could then get more Gowns on ye, + More Caps and Feathers, more Scarfs, and more Silk-stockings + With rocking you asleep with nightly railings + Upon that Woman, than if I had nine lives + I could wear out: by this hand ye'would scratch her eyes out. + + _Olym._ Thou art deceiv'd fool; + Now let your own eye mock ye. + + _Enter Gentlewoman and_ Alinda. + + Come hither Girl: hang me and she be not a handsom one. + + _Pet._ I fear it will prove indeed so. + + _Olym._ Did you ever serve yet + In any place of worth? + + _Alin._ No, Royal Lady. + + _Pet._ Hold up your head; fie. + + _Olym._ Let her alone, stand from her. + + _Alin._ It shall be now, + Of all the blessings my poor youth has pray'd for, + The greatest and the happiest to serve you; + And might my promise carry but that credit + To be believ'd, because I am yet a stranger, + Excellent Lady, when I fall from duty, + From all the service that my life can lend me, + May everlasting misery then find me. + + _Olym._ What think ye now? I do believe, and thank ye; + And sure I shall not be so far forgetful, + To see that honest faith die unrewarded: + What must I call your name? + + _Alin._ _Alinda_, Madam. + + _Olym._ Can ye sing? + + _Alin._ A little, when my grief will give me leave, Lady. + + _Olym._ What grief canst thou have Wench? + Thou art not in love? + + _Alin._ If I be Madam, 'tis only with your goodness; + For yet I never saw that man I sighed for. + + _Olym._ Of what years are you? + + _Alin._ My Mother oft has told me, + That very day and hour this land was blest + With your most happy birth, I first saluted + This worlds fair light: Nature was then so busie, + And all the Graces to adorn your goodness, + I stole into the world poor and neglected. + + _Olym._ Something there was, when I first look'd upon thee, + Made me both like and love thee: now I know it; + And you shall find that knowledge shall not hurt you: + I hope ye are a Maid? + + _Alin._ I hope so too, Madam; + I am sure for any man: and were I otherwise, + Of all the services my hopes could point at, + I durst not touch at yours. + + _Flourish. Enter Duke_, Burris, _and Gent._ + + _Pet._ The great Duke, Madam. + + _Duk._ Good morrow, Sister. + + _Olym._ A good day to your highness. + + _Duk._ I am come to pray you use no more perswasions + For this old stubborn man: nay to command ye: + His sail is swell'd too full: he is grown too insolent, + Too self-affected, proud: those poor slight services + He has done my Father, and my self, has blown him + To such a pitch, he flyes to stoop our favours. + + _Olym._ I am sorry Sir: I ever thought those services + Both great and noble. + + _Bur._ However, may it please ye + But to consider 'em a true hearts Servants, + Done out of faith to you, and not self-fame: + Do but consider royal Sir, the dangers; + When you have slept secure, the mid-night tempests, + That as he marcht sung through his aged locks; + When you have fed at full, the wants and famins; + The fires of Heaven, when you have found all temperate, + Death with his thousand doors-- + + _Duk._ I have consider'd; + No more: and that I will have, shall be. + + _Olym._ For the best, + I hope all still. + + _Duk._ What handsom wench is that there? + + _Olym._ My Servant, Sir. + + _Duk._ Prethee observe her _Burris_, + Is she not wondrous handsom? speak thy freedom. + + _Bur._ She appears no less to me Sir. + + _Duk._ Of whence is she? + + _Ol._ Her Father I am told is a good Gentleman, + But far off dwelling: her desire to serve me + Brought her to th' Court, and here her friends have left her. + + _Du._ She may find better friends: + Ye are welcom fair one, + I have not seen a sweeter: By your Ladies leave: + Nay stand up sweet, we'll have no superstition: + You have got a Servant; you may use him kindly, + And he may honour ye: [_Ex._ Duke _and_ Burris. + Good morrow Sister. + + _Ol._ Good morrow to your Grace. How the wench blushes! + How like an A[n]gel now she looks! + + _1 Wom._ At first jump + Jump into the Dukes arms? we must look to you, + Indeed we must, the next jump we are journeymen. + + _Pet._ I see the ruine of our hopes already, + Would she were at home again, milking her Fathers Cows. + + _1 Wom._ I fear she'l milk all the great Courtiers first. + + _Olym._ This has not made ye proud? + + _Al._ No certain, Madam. + + _Olym._ It was the Duke that kist ye. + + _Al._ 'Twas your Brother, + And therefore nothing can be meant but honour. + + _Ol._ But say he love ye? + + _Al._ That he may with safety: + A Princes love extends to all his subjects. + + _Ol._ But say in more particular? + + _Al._ Pray fear not: + For vertues sake deliver me from doubts, Lady: + 'Tis not the name of King, nor all his promises, + His glories, and his greatness stuck about me, + Can make me prove a Traitor to your service: + You are my Mistris, and my noble Master, + Your vertues my ambition, and your favour + The end of all my love, and all my fortune: + And when I fail in that faith-- + + _Ol._ I believe thee, + Come wipe your eyes; I do: take you example-- + + _Pets._ I would her eyes were out. + + _1 Wom._ If the wind stand in this door, + We shall have but cold custome: some trick or other, + And speedily. + + _Pet._ Let me alone to think on't. + + _Ol._ Come, be you near me still. + + _Al._ With all my duty. [_Exeunt._ + + +SCENA III. + + _Enter_ Archas, Theodor, Putskie, _Ancient, and Souldiers, + carrying his armour piece-meale, his Colours wound up, + and his Drums in Cases_. + + _Theod._ This is the heaviest march we e're trod Captain. + + _Puts._ This was not wont to be: these honour'd pieces + The fierie god of war himself would smile at, + Buckl'd upon that body, were not wont thus, + Like Reliques to be offer'd to long rust, + And heavy-ey'd oblivion brood upon 'em. + + _Arch._ There set 'em down: and glorious war farewel; + Thou child of honour and ambitious thoughts, + Begot in bloud, and nurs'd with Kingdomes ruines; + Thou golden danger, courted by thy followers + Through fires and famins, for one title from thee-- + Prodigal man-kind spending all his fortunes; + A long farewel I give thee: Noble Arms, + You ribs for mighty minds, you Iron houses, + Made to defie the thunder-claps of Fortune, + Rust and consuming time must now dwell with ye: + And thou good Sword that knewst the way to conquest, + Upon whose fatal edge despair and death dwelt, + That when I shook thee thus, fore-shew'd destruction, + Sleep now from bloud, and grace my Monument: + Farewel my Eagle; when thou flew'st, whole Armies + Have stoopt below thee: At Passage I have seen thee, + Ruffle the _Tartars_, as they fled thy furie; + And bang 'em up together, as a Tassel, + Upon the streach, a flock of fearfull Pigeons. + I yet remember when the _Volga_ curl'd, + The aged _Volga_, when he heav'd his head up, + And rais'd his waters high, to see the ruins; + The ruines our Swords made, the bloudy ruins, + Then flew this Bird of honour bravely, Gentlemen; + But these must be forgotten: so must these too, + And all that tend to Arms, by me for ever. + Take 'em you holy men; my Vow take with 'em, + Never to wear 'em more: Trophies I give 'em, + And sacred Rites of war to adorn the Temple: + There let 'em hang, to tell the world their master + Is now Devotions Souldier, fit for prayer. + Why do ye hang your heads? why look you sad friends? + I am not dying yet. + + _Theod._ Ye are indeed to us Sir. + + _Puts._ Dead to our fortunes, General. + + _Arch._ You'l find a better, + A greater, and a stronger man to lead ye, + And to a stronger fortune: I am old, friends, + Time, and the wars together make me stoop, Gentle[men], + Stoop to my grave: my mind unfurnish'd too, + Emptie and weak as I am: my poor body, + Able for nothing now but contemplation, + And that will be a task too to a Souldier: + Yet had they but encourag'd me, or thought well + Of what I have done, I think I should have ventur'd + For one knock more, I should have made a shift yet + To have broke one staff more handsomly, and have died + Like a good fellow, and an honest Souldier, + In the head of ye all, with my Sword in my hand, + And so have made an end of all with credit. + + _Theod._ Well, there will come an hour, when all these injuries, + These secure slights-- + + _Ar._ Ha! no more of that sirrah, + Not one word more of that I charge ye. + + _Theod._ I must speak Sir. + And may that tongue forget to sound your service, + That's dumb to your abuses. + + _Ar._ Understand fool, + That voluntary I sit down. + + _Theod._ You are forced, Sir, + Forced for your safety: I too well remember + The time and cause, and I may live to curse 'em: + You made this Vow, and whose unnobleness, + Indeed forgetfulness of good-- + + _Ar._ No more, + As thou art mine no more. + + _The._ Whose doubts and envies-- + But the Devil will have his due. + + _Puts._ Good gentle Colonel. + + _The._ And though disgraces, and contempt of Honour + Reign now, the Wheel must turn again. + + _Ar._ Peace Sirrah, + Your tongue's too saucy: do you stare upon me? + Down with that heart, down suddenly, down with it, + Down with that disobedience; tye that tongue up. + + _Theod._ Tongue? + + _Ar._ Do not provoke me to forget my Vow, Sirrah. + And draw that fatal Sword again in anger. + + _Puts._ For Heavens sake, Colonel. + + _Ar._ Do not let me doubt + Whose Son thou art, because thou canst not suffer: + Do not play with mine anger; if thou dost, + By all the Loyalty my heart holds-- + + _Theod._ I have done, Sir, + Pray pardon me. + + _Ar._ I pray be worthy of it: + Beshrew your heart, you have vext me. + + _The._ I am sorry, Sir. + + _Ar._ Go to, no more of this: be true and honest, + I know ye are man enough, mould it to just ends, + And let not my disgraces, then I am miserable, + When I have nothing left me but thy angers. + + _Flourish. Enter Duke_, Burris, Boroskie, _Attend. and Gent_. + + _Puts._ And't please ye, Sir, the Duke. + + _Duk._ Now, what's all this? + The meaning of this ceremonious Emblem? + + _Ar._ Your Grace should first remember-- + + _Boros._ There's his Nature. + + _Duk._ I do, and shall remember still that injury, + That at the Muster, where it pleas'd your Greatness + To laugh at my poor Souldiership, to scorn it; + And more to make me seem ridiculous, + Took from my hands my charge. + + _Bur._ O think not so, Sir. + + _Duk._ And in my Fathers sight. + + _Ar._ Heaven be my witness, + I did no more, (and that with modesty, + With Love and Faith to you) than was my warrant, + And from your Father seal'd: nor durst that rudeness, + And impudence of scorn fall from my 'haviour, + I ever yet knew duty. + + _Du._ We shall teach ye, + I well remember too, upon some words I told ye, + Then at that time, some angry words ye answer'd, + If ever I were Duke, you were no Souldier. + You have kept your word, and so it shall be to you, + From henceforth I dismiss you; take your ease, Sir. + + _Ar._ I humbly thank your Grace; this wasted Body, + Beaten and bruis'd with Arms, dry'd up with troubles, + Is good for nothing else but quiet, now Sir, + And holy Prayers; in which, when I forget + To thank Heaven for all your bounteous favours, + May that be deaf, and my Petitions perish. + + _Boros._ What a smooth humble Cloak he has cas'd his pride in! + And how he has pull'd his Claws in! there's no trusting-- + + _Bur._ Speak for the best. + + _Bor._ Believe I shall do ever. + + _Du._ To make ye understand, we feel not yet + Such dearth of Valour, and Experience, + Such a declining Age of doing Spirits, + That all should be confin'd within your excellence, + And you, or none be honour'd, take _Boroskie_, + The place he has commanded, lead the Souldier; + A little time will bring thee to his honour, + Which has been nothing but the Worlds opinion, + The Souldiers fondness, and a little fortune, + Which I believe his Sword had the least share in. + + _Theod._ O that I durst but answer now. + + _Puts._ Good Colonel. + + _Theod._ My heart will break else: Royal Sir, I know not + What you esteem mens lives, whose hourly labours, + And loss of Blood, consumptions in your service, + Whose Bodies are acquainted with more miseries, + And all to keep you safe, than Dogs or Slaves are. + His Sword the least share gain'd? + + _Du._ You will not fight with me? + + _Theod._ No Sir, I dare not, + You are my Prince, but I dare speak to ye, + And dare speak truth, which none of their ambitions + That be informers to you, dare once think of; + Yet truth will now but anger ye; I am sorry for't, + And so I take my leave. [_Exit._ + + _Du._ Ev'n when you please, Sir. + + _Ar._ Sirrah, see me no more. + + _Du._ And so may you too: + You have a house i'th' Country, keep you there, Sir, + And when you have rul'd your self, teach your Son manners, + For this time I forgive him. + + _Ar._ Heaven forgive all; + And to your Grace a happy and long Rule here. + And you Lord General, may your fights be prosperous. + In all your Course may Fame and Fortune court you. + Fight for your Country, and your Princes safety; + Boldly, and bravely face your Enemy, + And when you strike, strike with that killing Vertue, + As if a general Plague had seiz'd before ye; + Danger, and doubt, and labour cast behind ye; + And then come home an old and noble Story. + + _Bur._ A little comfort, Sir. + + _Du._ As little as may be: + Farewel, you know your limit. [_Ex. Duke_, &c. + + _Bur._ Alas, brave Gentleman. + + _Ar._ I do, and will observe it suddenly, + My Grave; I, that's my limit; 'tis no new thing, + Nor that can make me start, or tremble at it, + To buckle with that old grim Souldier now: + I have seen him in his sowrest shapes, and dreadfull'st; + I, and I thank my honesty, have stood him: + That audit's cast; farewel my honest Souldiers, + Give me your hands; farewel, farewel good _Ancient_, + A stout man, and a true, thou art come in sorrow. + Blessings upon your Swords, may they ne'r fail ye; + You do but change a man; your fortune's constant; + That by your ancient Valours is ty'd fast still; + Be valiant still, and good: and when ye fight next, + When flame and fury make but one face of horrour, + When the great rest of all your honour's up, + When you would think a Spell to shake the enemy, + Remember me, my Prayers shall be with ye: + So once again farewel. + + _Puts._ Let's wait upon ye. + + _Ar._ No, no, it must not be; I have now left me + A single Fortune to my self, no more, + Which needs no train, nor complement; good Captain, + You are an honest and a sober Gentleman, + And one I think has lov'd me. + + _Puts_. I am sure on't. + + _Ar_. Look to my Boy, he's grown too headstrong for me. + And if they think him fit to carry Arms still, + His life is theirs; I have a house i'th' Country, + And when your better hours will give you liberty, + See me: you shall be welcome. Fortune to ye. [_Exit._ + + _Anc._ I'll cry no more, that will do him no good, + And 'twill but make me dry, and I have no money: + I'll fight no more, and that will do them harm; + And if I can do that, I care not for money: + I could have curst reasonable well, and I have had the luck too + To have 'em hit sometimes. Whosoever thou art, + That like a Devil didst possess the Duke + With these malicious thoughts; mark what I say to thee, + A Plague upon thee, that's but the Preamble. + + _Sold._ O take the Pox too. + + _Anc._ They'll cure one another; + I must have none but kills, and those kill stinking: + Or look ye, let the single Pox possess them, + Or Pox upon Pox. + + _Puts._ That's but ill i'th' arms, Sir. + + _Anc._ 'Tis worse i'th' Legs, I would not wish it else: + And may those grow to scabs as big as Mole-hills, + And twice a day, the Devil with a Curry-Comb + Scratch 'em, and scrub 'em: I warrant him he has 'em. + + _Sold._ May he be ever lowzie. + + _Anc._ That's a pleasure, + The Beggar's Lechery; sometimes the Souldiers: + May he be ever lazie, stink where he stands, + And Maggots breed in's Brains. + + _2 Sold._ I, marry Sir, + May he fall mad in love with his Grand-mother, + And kissing her, may her teeth drop into his mouth, + And one fall cross his throat, then let him gargle. + + _Enter a Post._ + + _Puts._ Now, what's the matter? + + _Post._ Where's the Duke, pray, Gentlemen? + + _Puts._ Keep on your way, you cannot miss. + + _Post._ I thank ye. [_Exit._ + + _Anc._ If he be married, may he dream he's cuckol'd, + And when he wakes believe, and swear he saw it, + Sue a Divorce, and after find her honest: + Then in a pleasant Pigstye, with his own garters, + And a fine running knot, ride to the Devil. + + _Puts._ If these would do-- + + _Anc._ I'll never trust my mind more, + If all these fail. + + _1 Sold._ What shall we do now, Captain? + For by this honest hand I'll be torn in pieces, + Unless my old General go, or some that love him, + And love us equal too, before I fight more: + I can make a Shooe yet, and draw it on too, + If I like the Leg well. + + _Anc._ Fight? 'tis likely: + No, there will be the sport Boys, when there's need on's. + They think the other Crown will do, will carry us, + And the brave golden Coat of Captain _Cankro + Boroskie_. What a noise his very name carries! + 'Tis Gun enough to fright a Nation, + He needs no Souldiers; if he do, for my part, + I promise ye he's like to seek 'em; so I think you think too, + And all the Army; No, honest, brave old _Archas_, + We cannot so soon leave thy memory, + So soon forget thy goodness: he that does, + The scandal and the scumm of Arms be counted. + + _Puts._ You much rejoice me now you have hit my meaning, + I durst not press ye, till I found your spirits: + Continue thus. + + _Anc._ I'll go and tell the Duke on't. + + _Enter 2 Post._ + + _Puts._ No, no, he'll find it soon enough, and fear it, + When once occasion comes: Another Packet! + From whence, Friend, come you? + + _2 Post._ From the Borders, Sir. + + _Puts._ What news, Sir, I beseech you? + + _2 Post._ Fire and Sword, Gentlemen; + The _Tartar_'s up, and with a mighty force, + Comes forward, like a tempest, all before him + Burning and killing. + + _Anc._ Brave Boys, brave news, Boys. + + _2 Post._ Either we must have present help-- + + _Anc._ Still braver. + + _2 Post._ Where lies the Duke? + + _Sold._ He's there. + + _2 Post._ 'Save ye, Gentlemen. [_Exit._ + + _Anc._ We are safe enough, I warrant thee: + Now the time's come. + + _Puts._ I, now 'tis come indeed, and now stand firm, Boys, + And let 'em burn on merrily. + + _Anc._ This City would make a fine marvellous Bone-fire: + 'Tis old dry timber, and such Wood has no fellow. + + _2 Sold._ Here will be trim piping anon and whining, + Like so many Pigs in a storm, + When they hear the news once. + + _Enter_ Boroskie, _and Servant_. + + _Puts._ Here's one has heard it already; + Room for the General. + + _Boros._ Say I am faln exceeding sick o'th' sudden, + And am not like to live. + + _Puts._ If ye go on, Sir, + For they will kill ye certainly; they look for ye. + + _Anc._ I see your Lordship's bound, take a suppository, + 'Tis I, Sir; a poor cast Flag of yours. The foolish _Tartars_ + They burn and kill, and't like your honour, kill us, + Kill with Guns, with Guns my Lord, with Guns, Sir. + What says your Lordship to a chick in sorrel sops? + + _Puts._ Go, go thy ways old true-penny; + Thou hast but one fault: thou art ev'n too valiant. + Come, to'th' Army Gentlemen, and let's make them acquainted. + + _Sold._ Away, we are for ye. [_Exeunt._ + + +SCENE IV. + + _Enter_ Alinda, _and two Gentlewomen_. + + _Alin._ Why, whither run ye Fools; will ye leave my Lady? + + _Petes._ The _Tartar_ comes, the _Tartar_ comes. + + _Alin._ Why, let him, + I thought you had fear'd no men: upon my conscience + You have try'd their strengths already; stay for shame. + + _Pet._ Shift for thy self, _Alinda_. [_Exit._ + + _Alin._ Beauty bless ye: + Into what Grooms Feather-Bed will you creep now? + And there mistake the enemy; sweet youths ye are, + And of a constant courage; are you afraid of foining? + + _Enter_ Olympia. + + _Olym._ O my good Wench, what shall become of us? + The Posts come hourly in, and bring new danger; + The enemy is past the _Volga_, and bears hither + With all the blood and cruelty he carries, + My Brother now will find his fault. + + _Alin._ I doubt me, + Somewhat too late, Madam. But pray fear not, + All will be well, I hope. Sweet Madam, shake not. + + _Olym._ How cam'st thou by this Spirit? our Sex trembles. + + _Alin._ I am not unacquainted with these dangers; + And you shall know my truth; for ere you perish, + A hundred Swords shall pass through me: 'tis but dying, + And Madam we must do it: the manner's all: + You have a Princely Birth, take Princely thoughts to you, + And take my counsel too; go presently, + With all the haste ye have, (I will attend ye) + With all the possible speed, to old Lord _Archas_, + He honours ye; with all your art perswade him, + ('Twill be a dismal time else) woo him hither, + But hither Madam, make him see the danger; + For your new General looks like an Ass; + There's nothing in his face but loss. + + _Olym._ I'll do it. + And thank thee, sweet _Alinda_: O my Jewel, + How much I'm bound to love thee! by this hand, Wench, + If thou wert a man-- + + _Alin._ I would I were to fight for you. + But haste dear Madam. + + _Olym._ I need no Spurs _Alinda_. + + +SCENE V. + + _Enter Duke, 2 Posts, Attendants, Gentlemen._ + + _Du._ The Lord General sick now? is this a time + For men to creep into their Beds? What's become, Post, + Of my Lieutenant? + + _Post._ Beaten, and't please your Grace, + And all his Forces sparkled. + + _Enter a Gentleman._ + + _Du._ That's but cold news: + How now, what good news? are the Souldiers ready? + + _Ge._ Yes Sir, but fight they will not, nor stir from that place + They stand in now, unless they have Lord _Archas_ + To lead 'em out; they rail upon this General, + And sing Songs of him, scurvy Songs, to worse tunes: + And much they spare not you, Sir: here they swear + They'll stand and see the City burnt, and dance about it, + Unless Lord _Archas_ come before they fight for't: + It must be so, Sir. + + _Du._ I could wish it so too; + And to that end I have sent Lord _Burris_ to him; + But all I fear will fail; we must dye, Gentlemen, + And one stroke we'll have for't. + + _Enter_ Burris. + + What bring'st thou, _Burris_? + + _Bur._ That I am loth to tell; he will not come, Sir; + I found him at his Prayers, there he tells me, + The Enemy shall take him, fit for Heaven: + I urg'd to him all our dangers, his own worths, + The Countries ruine; nay I kneel'd and pray'd him; + He shook his head, let fall a tear, and pointed + Thus with his finger to the Ground; a Grave + I think he meant; and this was all he answer'd. + Your Grace was much to blame: + Where's the new General? + + _Du._ He is sick, poor man. + + _Bur._ He's a poor man indeed, Sir: + Your Grace must needs go to the Souldier. + + _Du._ They have sent me word + They will not stir, they rail at me, + And all the spight they have-- [_Shout within._ + What shout is that there? + Is the Enemy come so near? + + _Enter_ Archas, Olympia, _and_ Alinda. + + _Olym._ I have brought him, Sir, + At length I have woo'd him thus far. + + _Du._ Happy Sister, + O blessed Woman! + + _Olym._ Use him nobly, Brother; + You never had more need: And Gentlemen, + All the best powers ye have, to tongues turn presently, + To winning and perswading tongues: all my art, + Only to bring him hither, I have utter'd; + Let it be yours to arm him; And good my Lord, + Though I exceed the limit you allow'd me, + Which was the happiness to bring ye hither, + And not to urge ye farther; yet, see your Country, + Out of your own sweet Spirit now behold it: + Turn round, and look upon the miseries, + On every side the fears; O see the dangers; + We find 'em soonest, therefore hear me first, Sir. + + _Du._ Next hear your Prince: + You have said you lov'd him, _Archas_, + And thought your life too little for his service; + Think not your vow too great now, now the time is, + And now you are brought to th' test, touch right now Souldier, + Now shew the manly pureness of thy mettle; + Now if thou beest that valued man, that vertue, + That great obedience teaching all, now stand it. + What I have said forget, my youth was hasty, + And what you said your self forgive, you were angry. + If men could live without their faults, they were gods, _Archas_. + He weeps, and holds his hands up: to him, _Burris_. + + _Bur._ You have shew'd the Prince his faults; + And like a good Surgeon you have laid + That to 'em makes 'em smart; he feels it, + Let 'em not fester now, Sir; your own honour, + The bounty of that mind, and your allegiance, + 'Gainst which I take it, Heaven gives no Command, Sir, + Nor seals no Vow, can better teach ye now + What ye have to do, than I, or this necessity; + Only this little's left; would ye do nobly, + And in the Eye of Honour truly triumph? + Conquer that mind first, and then men are nothing. + + _Alin._ Last, a poor Virgin kneels; for loves sake General, + If ever you have lov'd; for her sake, Sir, + For your own honesty, which is a Virgin, + Look up, and pity us, be bold and fortunate, + You are a Knight, a good and noble Souldier, + And when your Spurs were given ye, your Sword buckl'd, + Then were you sworn for Vertues Cause, for Beauties, + For Chastity to strike; strike now, they suffer; + Now draw your Sword, or else you are recreant, + Only a Knight i'th' Heels, i'th' Heart a Coward; + Your first Vow honour made, your last but anger. + + _Ar._ How like my vertuous Wife this thing looks, speaks too? + So would she chide my dulness: fair one, I thank ye. + My gracious Sir, your pardon, next your hand: + Madam, your favour, and your prayers: Gentlemen, + Your wishes, and your loves: and pretty sweet one, + A favour for your Souldier. + + _Olymp._ Give him this, Wench. + + _Alin._ Thus do I tye on Victory. + + _Arc._ My Armour, + My Horse, my Sword, my tough Staff, and my Fortune, + And _Olin_ now I come to shake thy glory. + + _Du._ Go, brave and prosperous, our loves go with thee. + + _Olymp._ Full of thy vertue, and our Prayers attend thee. + + _Bur. &c._ Loaden with Victory, and we to honour thee. + + _Alin._ Come home the Son of Honour, + And I'll serve ye. [_Exeunt._ + + + + +_Actus Secundus. Scena Prima._ + + + _Enter Duke_, Burris, _and two Gentlemen_. + + _Duke._ No news of _Archas_ yet? + + _Bur._ But now, and't please ye, + A Post came in, Letters he brought none with him, + But this deliver'd: He saw the Armies join, + The game of Blood begun, and by our General, + Who never was acquainted but with Conquest, + So bravely fought, he saw the _Tartars_ shaken, + And there he said he left 'em. + + _Du._ Where's _Boroskie_? + + _1 Gent._ He's up again, and't please ye. + + _Bur._ Sir, methinks + This News should make ye lightsome, bring joy to ye, + It strikes our hearts with general Comfort. [_Exit Duke._ + Gone? What should this mean, so suddenly? + He's well? + + _2 Gent._ We see no other. + + _1 Gent._ Would the rest were well too, + That put these starts into him. + + _Bur._ I'll go after him. + + _2 Gent._ 'Twill not be fit, Sir: h'as some secret in him + He would not be disturb'd in: know you any thing + Has crost him since the General went? + + _Bur._ Not any: + If there had been, I am sure I should have found it: + Only I have heard him oft complain for money: + Money he says he wants. + + _1 Gent._ It may be that then. + + _Bur._ To him that has so ma[n]y wayes to raise it, + And those so honest, it cannot be. + + _Enter Duke and_ Boroskie. + + _1 Gent._ He comes back, + And Lord _Boroskie_ with him. + + _Bur._ There the game goes, + I fear some new thing hatching. + + _Duke._ Come hither _Burris_. + Go see my Sister, and commend me to her, + And to my little Mistriss give this Token; + Tell her I'le see her shortly. + + _Bur._ Yes, I shall, Sir. [_Ex._ Bur. _and Gent_. + + _Duke._ Wait you without: I would yet try him further. + + _Bor._ 'Twill not be much amiss: has your Grace heard yet + Of what he has done i'th' Field? + + _Duke._ A Post but now + Came in, who saw 'em joyn, and has delivered, + The Enemy gave ground before he parted. + + _Bor._ 'Tis well. + + _Duke._ Come, speak thy mind man: 'tis not for fighting, + A noise of War, I keep thee in my bosom; + Thy ends are nearer to me; from my Childhood + Thou brought'st me up: and like another nature, + Made good all my necessities: speak boldly. + + _Bor._ Sir, what I utter, will be thought but envy + Though I intend, high heaven knows, but your honour, + When vain and empty people shall proclaim me-- + Good Sir excuse me. + + _Duke._ Do you fear me for your Enemy? + Speak on your duty. + + _Bor._ Then I must, and dare, Sir: + When he comes home, take heed the Court receive him not, + Take heed he meet not with their loves and praises, + That Glass will shew him ten times greater, Sir, + (And make him strive to make good that proportion,) + Than ere his fortune bred him, he is honourable, + At least I strive to understand him so, + And of a nature, if not this way poyson'd, + Perfect enough, easie, and sweet, but those are soon seduc'd, Sir; + He's a great man, and what that Pill may work, + Prepar'd by general voices of the people, + Is the end of all my Counsel, only this, Sir, + Let him retire a while, there's more hangs by it + Than you know yet: there if he stand a while well, + But till the Souldier cool, whom, for their service + You must pay now most liberally, most freely, + And showre your self into 'em; 'tis the bounty + They follow with their loves, and not the bravery. + + _Enter two Gent._ + + _Duke._ But where's the Money? how now? + + _2 Gent._ Sir, the Colonel, + Son to the Lord _Archas_, with most happy news + Of the _Tartars_ overthrow, without here + Attends your Graces pleasure. + + _Bor._ Be not seen, Sir, + He's a bold fellow, let me stand his Thunders, + To th' Court he must not come: no blessing here, Sir, + No face of favour, if you love your honour. + + _Enter_ Theodore. + + _Duke._ Do what you think is meetest; I'le retire, Sir. [_Ex._ + + _Bor._ Conduct him in, Sir--welcome noble Colonel. + + _The._ That's much from your Lordship: pray where's the Duke? + + _Bor._ We hear you have beat the _Tartar_. + + _The._ Is he busie, Sir? + + _Bor._ Have ye taken _Olin_ yet? + + _The._ I would fain speak with him. + + _Bor._ How many men have ye lost? + + _The._ Do's he lye this way? + + _Bor._ I am sure you fought it bravely. + + _The._ I must see him. + + _Bor._ You cannot yet, ye must not, what's your Commission? + + _The._ No Gentleman o'th' Chamber here? + + _Bor._ Why, pray ye, Sir? + Am not I fit to entertain your business? + + _The._ I think you are not, Sir; I am sure ye shall not. + I bring no tales, nor flatteries: in my tongue, Sir, + I carry no fork'd stings. + + _Bor._ You keep your bluntness. + + _The._ You are deceiv'd: it keeps me: I had felt else + Some of your plagues ere this: but good Sir trifle not, + I have business to the Duke. + + _Bor._ He's not well, Sir, + And cannot now be spoke withal. + + _The._ Not well, Sir? + How would he ha' been, if we had lost? not well, Sir? + I bring him news to make him well: his enemy + That would have burnt his City here, and your House too, + Your brave gilt house, my Lord, your honours hangings, + Where all your Ancestors, and all their Battels, + Their silk and golden Battels are decipher'd: + That would not only have abus'd your buildings, + Your goodly buildings, Sir, and have drunk dry your butteries, + Purloin'd your Lordships Plate, the Duke bestow'd on you, + For turning handsomly o'th' toe, and trim'd your Virgins, + Trim'd 'em of a new cut, and't like your Lordship, + 'Tis ten to one, your Wife too, and the curse is + You had had no remedy against these Rascals, + No Law, and't like your Honour; would have kill'd you too + And roasted ye, and eaten ye, ere this time: + Notable Knaves my Lord, unruly Rascals: + These youths have we ty'd up, put muzzels on 'em, + And par'd their Nails, that honest civil Gentlemen, + And such most noble persons as your self is, + May live in peace, and rule the land with a twine thread. + These news I bring. + + _Bor._ And were they thus deliver'd ye? + + _The._ My Lord, I am no pen-man, nor no Orator, + My tongue was never Oyl'd with Here and't like ye, + There I beseech ye, weigh, I am a Souldier, + And truth I covet only, no fine terms, Sir; + I come not to stand treating here; my business + Is with the Duke, and of such general blessing-- + + _Bor._ You have overthrown the enemy, we know it, + And we rejoyce in't; ye have done like honest Subjects, + You have done handsomely and well. + + _Theo._ But well, Sir? + But handsomely and well? what are we juglers? + I'le do all that in cutting up a Capon. + But handsomely and well? does your Lordship take us + For the Dukes Tumblers? we have done bravely, Sir, + Ventur'd our lives like men. + + _Bor._ Then bravely be it. + + _Theo._ And for as brave rewards we look, and graces, + We have sweat and bled for't, Sir. + + _Bor._ And ye may have it, + If you will stay the giving. Men that thank themselves first + For any good they do, take off the lustre, + And blot the benefit. + + _Theo._ Are these the welcomes, + The Bells that ring out our rewards? pray heartily, + Early and late, there may be no more Enemies: + Do my good Lord, pray seriously, and sigh too, + For if there be-- + + _Bor._ They must be met, and fought with. + + _Theo._ By whom? by you? they must be met and flatter'd. + Why, what a Devil ail'd ye to do these things? + With what assurance dare ye mock men thus? + You have but single lives, and those I take it + A Sword may find too: why do ye dam the Duke up? + And choak that course of love, that like a River + Should fill our empty veins again with comforts? + But if ye use these knick knacks, + This fast and loose, with faithful men and honest, + You'l be the first will find it. + + _Enter_ Archas, _Souldiers_, Putskey, _Ancient, and others_. + + _Boros._ You are too untemperate. + + _Theo._ Better be so, and thief too, than unthankful: + Pray use this old man so, and then we are paid all. + The Duke thanks ye for your service, and the Court thanks ye, + And wonderful desirous they are to see ye; + Pray Heaven we have room enough to march for May-games, + Pageants, and Bone-fires for your welcome home, Sir. + Here your most noble friend the Lord _Boroskie_, + A Gentleman too tender of your credit, + And ever in the Dukes ear, for your good, Sir, + Crazie and sickly, yet to be your servant, + Has leapt into the open air to meet ye. + + _Bor._ The best is, your words wound not, you are welcome home, Sir; + Heartily welcome home, and for your service, + The noble overthrow you gave the Enemy, + The Duke salutes ye too with all his thanks, Sir. + + _Anc._ Sure they will now regard us. + + _Puts._ There's a reason: + But by the changing of the Colonels countenance, + The rolling of his eyes like angry Billows; + I fear the wind's not down yet, _Ancient_. + + _Anc._ Is the Duke well, Sir? + + _Boros._ Not much unhealthy, + Only a little grudging of an Ague, + Which cannot last: he has heard, which makes him fearful, + And loth as yet to give your worth due welcome, + The sickness hath been somewhat hot i'th' Army, + Which happily may prove more doubt than danger, + And more his fear than fate; yet howsoever, + An honest care-- + + _Arch._ Ye say right, and it shall be; + For though upon my life 'tis but a rumor, + A meer opinion, without faith or fear in't; + For Sir, I thank Heaven, we never stood more healthy, + Never more high and lusty; yet to satisfie, + We cannot be too curious, or too careful + Of what concerns his state, we'll draw away, Sir, + And lodge at further distance, and less danger. + + _Boros._ It will be well. + + _Anc._ It will be very scurvy: + I smell it out, it stinks abominably, + Stir it no more. + + _Boros._ The Duke, Sir, would have you too, + For a short day or two, retire to your own house, + Whither himself will come to visit ye, + And give ye thanks. + + _Arch._ I shall attend his pleasure. + + _Anc._ A trick, a lousie trick: so ho, a trick Boys. + + _Arch._ How now, what's that? + + _Anc._ I thought I had found a Hare, Sir, + But 'tis a Fox, an old Fox, shall we hunt him? + + _Arch._ No more such words. + + _Boros._ The Souldier's grown too sawcy, + You must tie him straiter up. + + _Arch._ I do my best, Sir; + But men of free-born minds sometimes will flie out. + + _Anc._ May not we see the Duke? + + _Boros._ Not at this time, Gentlemen, + Your General knows the cause. + + _Anc._ We have no Plague, Sir, + Unless it be in our pay, nor no Pox neither; + Or if we had, I hope that good old Courtier + Will not deny us place there. + + _Puts._ Certain my Lord, + Considering what we are, and what we have done; + If not, what need ye may have, 'twould be better, + A great deal nobler, and taste honester + To use us with more sweetness; men that dig + And lash away their lives at the Carts tail, + Double our comforts; meat, and their Masters thanks too, + When they work well, they have; Men of our quality, + When they do well, and venture for't with valour, + Fight hard, lye hard, feed hard, when they come home, Sir, + And know these are deserving things, things worthy, + Can you then blame 'em if their minds a little + Be stir'd with glory? 'tis a pride becomes 'em, + A little season'd with ambition, + To be respected, reckon'd well, and honour'd + For what they have done: when to come home thus poorly, + And met with such unjointed joy, so looked on, + As if we had done no more but drest a Horse well; + So entertain'd, as if, I thank ye Gentlemen, + Take that to drink, had pow'r to please a Souldier? + Where be the shouts, the Bells rung out, the people? + The Prince himself? + + _Arch._ Peace: I perceive your eye, Sir, + Is fixt upon this Captain for his freedom, + And happily you find his tongue too forward; + As I am Master of the place I carry, + 'Tis fit I think so too; but were I this man, + No stronger tie upon me, than the truth + And tongue to tell it, I should speak as he do's, + And think with modesty enough, such Saints + That daily thrust their loves and lives through hazards, + And fearless for their Countries peace, march hourly + Through all the doors of death, and know the darkest, + Should better be canoniz'd for their service: + What labour would these men neglect, what danger + Where honour is, though seated in a Billow, + Rising as high as Heaven, would not these Souldiers, + Like to so many Sea-gods charge up to it? + Do you see these swords? times Sythe was ne'er so sharp, Sir; + Nor ever at one harvest mow'd such handfuls: + Thoughts ne'er so sudden, nor belief so sure + When they are drawn, and were it not sometimes + I swim upon their angers to allay 'em, + And like a calm depress their fell intentions; + They are so deadly sure, nature would suffer-- + And whose are all these glories? why, their Princes, + Their Countries, and their Friends? Alas, of all these, + And all the happy ends they bring, the blessings, + They only share the labours: A little joy then, + And outside of a welcome, at an upshot + Would not have done amiss, Sir; but howsoever + Between me and my duty, no crack, Sir, + Shall dare appear: I hope by my example + No discontent in them: without doubt Gentlemen, + The Duke will both look suddenly and truly + On your deserts: Methinks 'twere good they were paid, Sir. + + _Bor._ They shall be immediately; I stay for money; + And any favour else-- + + _Arch._ We are all bound to ye; + And so I take my leave, Sir; when the Duke pleases + To make me worthy of his eyes-- + + _Bor._ Which will be suddenly, + I know his good thoughts to ye. + + _Arch._ With all duty, + And all humility, I shall attend, Sir. + + _Bor._ Once more you are welcome home: these shall be satisfied. + + _The._ Be sure we be: and handsomly. + + _Arch._ Wait you on me, Sir. + + _The._ And honestly: no jugling. + + _Arch._ Will ye come, Sir? [_Exit._ + + _Bor._ Pray do not doubt. + + _The._ We are no Boys. [_Exit._ + + _Enter a Gent. and 2 or 3 with Mony._ + + _Bor._ Well Sir. + + _Gent._ Here's mony from the Duke, and't please your Lordship. + + _Bor._ 'Tis well. + + _Gent._ How sowre the Souldiers look? + + _Bor._ Is't told? + + _Gent._ Yes, and for every company a double pay, + And the Dukes love to all. + + _Anc._ That's worth a Ducket. + + _Bor._ You that be Officers, see it discharg'd then, + Why do not you take it up? + + _Anc._ 'Tis too heavy: + 'Body o'me, I have strain'd mine arm. + + _Bor._ Do ye scorn it? + + _Anc._ Has your Lor[d]ship any dice about ye? sit round Gentlemen, + And come on seven for my share. + + _Put._ Do you think Sir, + This is the end we fight? can this durt draw us + To such a stupid tameness, that our service + Neglected, and look'd lamely on, and skew'd at + With a few honourable words, and this, is righted? + Have not we eyes and ears, to hear and see Sir, + And minds to understand the slights we carry? + I come home old, and full of hurts, men look on me + As if I had got 'em from a whore, and shun me; + I tell my griefs, and fear my wants, I am answer'd, + Alas 'tis pity! pray dine with me on Sunday: + These are the sores we are sick of, the minds maladies, + And can this cure 'em? you should have us'd us nobly, + And for our doing well, as well proclaim'd us + To the worlds eye, have shew'd and sainted us, + Then ye had paid us bravely: then we had shin'd Sir, + Not in this gilded stuff but in our glory: + You may take back your mony. + + _Gent._ This I fear'd still. + + _Bor._ Consider better Gentlemen. + + _Anc._ Thank your Lordship: + And now I'le put on my considering cap: + My Lord, that I am no Courtier, you may guess it + By having no sute to you for this mony: + For though I want, I want not this, nor shall not, + Whilst you want that civility to rank it + With those rights we expected; mony grows Sir, + And men must gather it, all is not put in one purse. + And that I am no Carter, I could never whistle yet: + But that I am a Souldier, and a Gentleman, + And a fine Gentleman, and't like your honour, + And a most pleasant companion: all you that are witty, + Come list to my ditty: come set in boyes, + With your Lordships patience. [_Song._ + How do you like my Song, my Lord? + + _Bor._ Even as I like your self, but 'twould be a great deal better, + You would prove a great deal wiser, and take this mony, + In your own phrase I speak now Sir, and 'tis very well + You have learn'd to sing; for since you prove so liberal, + To refuse such means as this, maintain your voice still, + 'Twill prove your best friend. + + _Anc._ 'Tis a singing age Sir, + A merry moon here now: I'le follow it: + Fidling, and fooling now, gains more than fighting. + + _Bor._ What is't you blench at? what would you ask? speak freely. + + _Sol._ And so we dare: a triumph for the General, + + _Put._ And then an honour special to his vertue. + + _Anc._ That we may be prefer'd that have serv'd for it, + And cram'd up into favour like the worshipful, + At least upon the Cities charge made drunk + For one whole year; we have done 'em ten years service; + That we may enjoy our lechery without grudging, + And mine, or thine be nothing, all things equal, + And catch as catch may, be proclaim'd: that when we borrow, + And have no will to pay again, no Law + Lay hold upon us, nor no Court controule us. + + _Bor._ Some of these may come to pass; the Duke may do 'em, + And no doubt will: the General will find too, + And so will you, if you but stay with patience: I have no power. + + _Put._ Nor will: come fellow Souldiers. + + _Bor._ Pray be not so distrustfull. + + _Put._ There are waies yet, + And honest waies; we are not brought up Statues. + + _Anc._ If your Lordship + Have any silk stockings, that have holes i'th' heels, + Or ever an honourable Cassock that wants buttons, + I could have cur'd such maladies: your Lordships custome + And my good Ladies, if the bones want setting + In her old bodies-- + + _Bor._ This is disobedience. + + _Anc._ Eight pence a day, and hard Eggs. + + _Put._ Troop off Gentlemen, + Some Coin we have, whilst this lasts, or our credits, + We'l never sell our Generals worth for six-pence. + Ye are beholding to us. + + _Anc._ Fare ye well Sir, + And buy a pipe with that: do ye see this skarf Sir? + By this hand I'le cry Brooms in't, birchen Brooms Sir, + Before I eat one bit from your benevolence. + Now to our old occupations again. + By your leave Lord. [_Exeunt._ + + _Bor._ You will bite when ye are sharper; take up the mony. + This love I must remove, this fondness to him, + This tenderness of heart; I have lost my way else. + There is no sending man, they will not take it, + They are yet too full of pillage, + They'l dance for't ere't be long: + Come, bring it after. + + _Enter_ Duke. + + _Duke._ How now, refus'd their mony? + + _Bor._ Very bravely, + And stand upon such terms 'tis terrible. + + _Duke._ Where's _Archas_? + + _Bor._ He's retir'd Sir, to his house, + According to your pleasure, full of dutie + To outward shew: but what within-- + + _Duke._ Refuse it? + + _Bor._ Most confidently: 'tis not your revenues + Can feed the[m] Sir, and yet they have found a General + That knows no ebbe of bountie: there they eat Sir, + And loath your invitations. + + _Duke._ 'Tis not possible, + He's poor as they. + + _Bor._ You'l find it otherwise. + Pray make your journey thither presently, + And as ye goe I'le open ye a wonder. + Good Sir this morning. + + _Duke._ Follow me, I'le doe it. [_Exeunt._ + + +SCENA II. + + _Enter_ Olympia, Alinda, Burris, _and Gentlewomen_. + + _Olym._ But do you think my Brother loves her? + + _Bur._ Certain Madam, + He speaks much of her, and sometimes with wonder, + Oft wishes she were nobler born. + + _Olym._ Do you think him honest? + + _Bur._ Your Grace is nearer to his heart, than I am, + Upon my life I hold him so. + + _Olym._ 'Tis a poor wench, + I would not have her wrong'd: methinks my Brother-- + But I must not give rules to his affections; + Yet if he weigh her worth-- + + _Bur._ You need not fear Madam. + + _Olym._ I hope I shall not: Lord _Burris_ + I love her well; I know not, there is something + Makes me bestow more than a care upon her: + I do not like that ring from him to her; + I mean to women of her way, such tokens + Rather appear as baits, than royal bounties: + I would not have it so. + + _Bur._ You will not find it, + Upon my troth I think his most ambition + Is but to let the world know h'as a handsom Mistris: + Will your grace command me any service to him? + + _Olym._ Remember all my duty. + + _Bur._ Blessings crown ye: + What's your will Lady? + + _Al._ Any thing that's honest; + And if you think it fit, so poor a service, + Clad in a ragged vertue, may reach him, + I do beseech your Lordship speak it humbly. + + _Bur._ Fair one I will: in the best phrase I have too, + And so I kiss your hand. [_Exit._ + + _Al._ Your Lordships Servant. + + _Olym._ Come hither wench, what art thou doing with that Ring? + + _Al._ I am looking on the posie, Madam. + + _Olym._ What is't? + + _Al._ The Jewel's set within. + + _Olym._ But where the joy wench, + When that invisible Jewel's lost? why dost thou smile so? + What unhappy meaning hast thou? + + _Al._. Nothing Madam, + But only thinking what strange spells these Rings have, + And how they work with some. + + _Pet._ I fear with you too. + + _Al._ This could not cost above a Crown. + + _Pet._ 'Twill cost you + The shaving of your crown, if not the washing. + + _Olym._ But he that sent it, makes the vertue greater; + + _Al._ I and the vice too Madam: goodness bless me: + How fit 'tis for my finger! + + _2 W._ No doubt you'l find too + A finger fit for you. + + _Al._ Sirrah, _Petesca_, + What wilt thou give me for the good that follows this? + But thou hast Rings enough, thou art provided: + Heigh ho, what must I doe now? + + _Pet._ You'l be taught that, + The easiest part that e're you learn't, I warrant you. + + _Al._ Ay me, ay me. + + _Pet._ You will divide too, shortly, + Your voice comes finely forward. + + _Olym._ Come hither wanton, + Thou art not surely as thou saist. + + _Al._ I would not: + But sure there is a witchcraft in this Ring, Lady, + Lord how my heart leaps! + + _Pet._ 'Twill goe pit a pat shortly. + + _Al._ And now methinks a thousand of the Dukes shapes. + + _2 W._ Will no less serve ye? + + _Al._ In ten thousand smiles. + + _Olym._ Heaven bless the wench. + + _Al._ With eyes that will not be deni'd to enter; + And such soft sweet embraces; take it from me, + I am undone else Madam: I'm lost else. + + _Olym._ What ailes the girle? + + _Al._ How suddenly I'm alter'd! + And grown my self again! do not you feel it? + + _Olym._ Wear that, and I'le wear this: + I'le try the strength on't. + + _Al._ How cold my bloud grows now! + Here's sacred vertue: + When I leave to honour this, + Every hour to pay a kiss, + When each morning I arise, + Or I forget a sacrifice: + When this figure in my faith, + And the pureness that it hath, + I pursue not with my will, + Nearer to arrive at still: + When I lose, or change this Jewel, + Flie me faith, and heaven be cruel. + + _Olym._ You have half confirm'd me, + Keep but that way sure, + And what this charm can doe, let me endure. [_Exeunt._ + + +SCENA III. + + _Enter_ Archas, Theodore, _2 Daughters_ Honora _and_ Viola. + + _Ar._ Carry your self discreetly, it concerns me, + The Duke's come in, none of your froward passions, + Nor no distasts to any: Prethee _Theodor_, + By my life, boy, 'twill ruine me. + + _The._ I have done Sir, + So there be no foul play he brings along with him. + + _Ar._ What's that to you? + Let him bring what please him, + And whom, and how. + + _The._ So they mean well-- + + _Ar._ Is't fit you be a Judge sirrah? + + _The._ 'Tis fit I feel Sir. + + _Ar._ Get a banquet ready, + And trim your selves up handsomly. + + _The._ To what end? + Do you mean to make 'em whores? + Hang up a sign then, + And set 'em out to Livery. + + _Ar._ Whose son art thou? + + _The._ Yours Sir, I hope: but not of your disgraces. + + _Ar._ Full twenty thousand men I have commanded, + And all their minds, with this calm'd all their angers; + And shall a boy of mine own breed too, of mine own blood, + One crooked stick-- + + _The._ Pray take your way, and thrive in't, + I'le quit your house; if taint or black dishonour + Light on ye, 'tis your own, I have no share in't. + Yet if it do fall out so, as I fear it, + And partly find it too-- + + _Ar._ Hast thou no reverence? + No dutie in thee? + + _The._ This shall shew I obey ye: + I dare not stay: I would have shew'd my love too, + And that you ask as duty, with my life Sir, + Had you but thought me worthy of your hazards, + Which heaven preserve ye from, and keep the Duke too: + And there's an end of my wishes, God be with ye. [_Exit._ + + _Ar._ Stubborn, yet full of that we all love, honesty. + + _Enter_ Burris. + + Lord _Burris_, where's the Duke? + + _Bur._ In the great chamber Sir, + And there stayes till he see you, ye 'have a fine house here. + + _Ar._ A poor contented lodge, unfit for his presence, + Yet all the joy it hath. + + _Bur._ I hope a great one, and for your good, brave Sir. + + _Ar._ I thank ye Lord: + And now my service to the Duke. + + _Bur._ I'le wait on ye. [_Exeunt._ + + _Enter_ Duke, Boroskey, _Gent. and Attendants_. + + _Duke._ May this be credited? + + _Bor._ Disgrace me else, + And never more with favour look upon me. + + _Duke._ It seems impossible. + + _Bor._ It cannot chuse Sir, + Till your own eyes behold it; but that it is so, + And that by this means the too haughtie Souldier + Has been so cramm'd and fed, he cares not for ye; + Believe, or let me perish: Let your eyes + As you observe the house, but where I point it, + Make stay, and take a view, and then you have found it. + + _Enter_ Archas, Burris, _2 Daughters, and Servant_. + + _Du._ I'le follow your direction: welcome _Archas_, + You are welcome home brave Lord, we are come to visit ye, + And thank ye for your service. + + _Ar._ 'Twas so poor Sir, + In true respect of what I owe your Highness, + It merits nothing. + + _Du._ Are these fair ones yours, Lord? + + _Ar._ Their Mother made me think so Sir. + + _Du._ Stand up Ladies: + Beshrew my heart they are fair ones; methinks fitter + The lustre of the Court, than thus live darken'd: + I would see your house Lord _Archas_, it appears to me + A handsom pile. + + _Ar._ 'Tis neat but no great structure; + I'le be your Graces guide, give me the keyes there. + + _Du._ Lead on, we'l follow ye: begin with the Gallery, + I think that's one. + + _Arc._ 'Tis so, and't please ye, Sir, + The rest above are lodgings all. + + _Du._ Go on, Sir. [_Exeunt._ + + +SCENE IV. + + _Enter_ Theodore, Putskey, _and Ancient_. + + _Puts._ The Duke gone thither, do you say? + + _The._ Yes marry do I, + And all the Ducklings too; but what they'll do there-- + + _Puts._ I hope they'll crown his service. + + _The._ With a Custard; + This is no weather for rewards: they crown his service? + Rather they go to shave his Crown: I was rated + As if I had been a Dog had worried Sheep, out of doors, + For making but a doubt. + + _Puts._ They must now grace him. + + _The._ Mark but the end. + + _Anc._ I am sure they should reward him, they cannot want him. + + _The._ They that want honesty, want any thing. + + _Puts._ The Duke is so noble in his own thoughts. + + _The._ That I grant ye, + If those might only sway him: but 'tis most certain, + So many new born Flies his light gave life to, + Buzze in his beams, Flesh-flies, and Butterflies, + Hornets, and humming Scarabs, that not one honey Bee + That's loaden with true labour, and brings home + Encrease and Credit, can 'scape rifling, + And what she sucks for sweet, they turn to bitterness. + + _Anc._ Shall we go see what they do, and talk our mind to 'em? + + _Puts._ That we have done too much, and to no purpose. + + _Anc._ Shall we be hang'd for him? + I have a great mind to be hang'd now + For doing some brave thing for him; a worse end will take me, + And for an action of no worth; not honour him? + Upon my Conscience, even the Devil, the very Devil + (Not to belie him) thinks him an honest man, + I am sure he has sent him souls any time these twenty years, + Able to furnish all his Fish-markets. + + _The._ Leave thy talking, + And come, let's go to dinner and drink to him, + We shall hear more ere supper time: if he be honour'd, + He has deserv'd it well, and we shall fight for't: + If he be ruin'd, so, we know the worst then, + And for my self, I'll meet it. + + _Puts._ I ne'r fear it. [_Exeunt._ + + +SCENE V. + + _Enter Duke_, Archas, Boroskey, Burris, _Gentlemen, and + Attendants_. + + _Du._ They are handsome rooms all, well contriv'd and fitted, + Full of convenience, the prospect's excellent. + + _Arc._ Now will your Grace pass down, and do me but the honour + To taste a Countrey Banquet? + + _Du._ What room's that? + I would see all now; what conveyance has it? + I see you have kept the best part yet; pray open it. + + _Arc._ Ha! I misdoubted this: 'tis of no receipt, Sir, + For your eyes most unfit-- + + _Du._I long to see it, + Because I would judge of the whole piece: some excellent painting, + Or some rare spoils you would keep to entertain me + Another time, I know. + + _A[r]c._ In troth there is not, + Nor any thing worth your sight; below I have + Some Fountains, and some Ponds. + + _Du._ I would see this now. + + _Ar._ _Boroskie_, thou art a Knave; it contains nothing + But rubbish from the other rooms and unnecessaries: + Will't please you see a strange Clock? + + _Du._ This or nothing: [_Little Trunk ready._ + Why should you bar it up thus with defences + Above the rest, unless it contain'd something + More excellent, and curious of keeping? + Open't, for I will see it. + + _Arc._ The Keys are lost, Sir: + Does your Grace think if it were fit for you, + I could be so unmannerly? + + _Du._ I will see it, and either shew it-- + + _Arc._ Good Sir-- + + _Du._ Thank ye, _Archas_, + You shew your love abundantly, + Do I use to entreat thus? force it open. + + _Bur._ That were inhospitable; you are his Guest, Sir, + And with his greatest joy, to entertain ye. + + _Du._ Hold thy peace, Fool; will ye open it? + + _Arc._ Sir, I cannot. + I must not if I could. + + _Du._ Go, break it open. + + _Arc._ I must withstand that force: Be not too rash, Gentlemen. + + _Du._ Unarm him first, then if he be not obstinate + Preserve his life. + + _Arc._ I thank your Grace, I take it; + And now take you the Keys, go in, and see, Sir; + There feed your eyes with wonder, and thank that Traytor, + That thing that sells his faith for favour. [_Exit Duke._ + + _Bur._ Sir, what moves ye? + + _Arc._ I have kept mine pure: Lord _Burris_, there's a _Judas_, + That for a smile will sell ye all: a Gentleman? + The Devil has more truth, and has maintain'd it; + A Whores heart more belief in't. + + _Enter Duke._ + + _Du._ What's all this, _Archas_? + I cannot blame you to conceal it so, + This most inestimable Treasure. + + _Ar._ Yours Sir. + + _Du._ Nor do I wonder now the Souldier sleights me. + + _Arc._ Be not deceiv'd; he has had no favour here, Sir, + Nor had you known this now, but for that Pick-thank, + The lost man in his faith, he has reveal'd it, + To suck a little honey from ye has betray'd it. + I swear he smiles upon me, and forsworn too, + Thou crackt, uncurrant Lord: I'll tell ye all, Sir: + Your Sire, before his death, knowing your temper, + To be as bounteous as the air, and open, + As flowing as the Sea to all that follow'd ye, + Your great mind fit for War and Glory, thriftily + Like a great Husband to preserve your actions, + Collected all this treasure; to our trusts, + To mine I mean, and to that long-tongu'd Lord's there, + He gave the knowledg and the charge of all this, + Upon his death-Bed too: And on the Sacrament + He swore us thus, never to let this Treasure + Part from our secret keepings, till no hope + Of Subject could relieve ye, all your own wasted, + No help of those that lov'd ye could supply ye, + And then some great exploit a foot; my honesty + I would have kept till I had made this useful; + I shew'd it, and I stood it to the tempest, + And useful to the end 'twas left: I am cozen'd, + And so are you too, if you spend this vainly; + This Worm that crept into ye has abus'd ye, + Abus'd your fathers care, abus'd his Faith too: + Nor can this mass of money make him man more, + A flea'd Dog has more soul, an Ape more honesty; + All mine ye have amongst it, farewel that, + I cannot part with't nobler; my heart's clear, + My Conscience smooth as that, no rub upon't: + But O thy Hell! + + _Bor._ I seek no Heaven from you, Sir. + + _Arc._ Thy gnawing Hell, _Boroskey_, it will find thee: + Would ye heap Coals upon his head has wrong'd ye, + Has ruin'd your estate? give him this money, + Melt it into his mouth. + + _Du._ What little Trunk's that? + That there o'th' top, that's lockt? + + _Bor._ You'll find it rich, Sir, + Richer I think than all. + + _Arc._ You were not covetous, + Nor wont to weave your thoughts with such a courseness; + Pray rack not Honesty. + + _Bor._ Be sure you see it. + + _Du._ Bring out the Trunk. + + _Enter with the Trunk._ + + _Arc._ You'll find that treasure too, + All I have left me now. + + _Du._ What's this, a poor Gown? + And this a piece of _Seneca_? + + _Arc._ Yes sure, Sir, + More worth than all your Gold, yet ye have enough on't, + And of a Mine far purer, and more precious; + This sells no friends, nor searches into counsels, + And yet all counsel, and all friends live here, Sir; + Betrays no Faith, yet handles all that's trusty: + Will't please you leave me this? + + _Du._ With all my heart, Sir. + + _Ar._ What says your Lordship to't? + + _Bor._ I dare not rob ye. + + _Arc._ Poor miserable men, you have rob'd your selves both; + This Gown, and this unvalu'd Treasure, your brave Father, + Found me a Child at School with, in his progress. + Where such a love he took to some few answers, + Unhappy Boyish toys hit in my head then, + That suddenly I made him, thus as I was, + (For here was all the Wealth I brought his Highness) + He carried me to Court, there bred me up, + Bestow'd his favours on me, taught me the Arms first, + With those an honest mind; I serv'd him truly, + And where he gave me trust, I think I fail'd not; + Let the World speak: I humbly thank your Highness, + You have done more, and nobler, eas'd mine age, Sir; + And to this care a fair _Quietus_ given, + Now to my Book again. + + _Du._ You have your wish, Sir, + Let some bring off the treasure. + + _Bor._ Some is his, Sir. + + _Arc._ None, none, a poor unworthy reaper, + The Harvest is his Graces. + + _Du._ Thank you, _Archas_. + + _Arc._ But will not you repent, Lord? when this is gone + Where will your Lordship?-- + + _Bor._ Pray take you no care, Sir. + + _Arc._ Does your Grace like my House? + + _Du._ Wondrous well, _Archas_, + You have made me richly welcome. + + _Arc._ I did my best, Sir. + Is there any thing else may please your Grace? + + _Du._ Your Daughters + I had forgot, send them to Court. + + _Arc._ How's that, Sir? + + _Du._ I said your Daughters; see it done: I'll have 'em + Attend my Sister, _Archas_. + + _Arc._ Thank your Highness. + + _Du._ And suddenly. [_Exit._ + + _Arc._ Through all the ways I dare, + I'll serve your temper, though you try me far. [_Exit._ + + + + +_Actus Tertius. Scena Prima._ + + + _Enter_ Theodore, Putskey, _Ancient and Servant_. + + _The._ I wonder we hear no news. + + _Puts._ Here's your fathers servant, + He comes in haste too, now we shall know all, Sir. + + _The._ How now? + + _Ser._ I am glad I have met you, Sir; your father + Intreats you presently make haste unto him. + + _The._ What news? + + _Ser._ None of the best, Sir, I am asham'd to tell it, + Pray ask no more. + + _The._ Did not I tell ye, Gentlemen? + Did not I prophesie? he's undone then. + + _Ser._ Not so, Sir, but as near it-- + + _Puts._ There's no help now; + The Army's scatter'd all, through discontent, + Not to be rallied up in haste to help this. + + _Anc._ Plague of the Devil; have ye watch'd your seasons? + We shall watch you ere long. + + _The._ Farewel, there's no cure, + We must endure all now: I know what I'll do. + [_Exeunt_ Theodore _and Servant_. + + _Puts._ Nay, there's no striving, they have a hand upon us, + A heavy and a hard one. + + _Anc._ Now I have it, + We have yet some Gentlemen, some Boys of mettle, + (What, are we bob'd thus still, colted, and carted?) + And one mad trick we'll have to shame these Vipers; + Shall I bless 'em? + + _Puts._ Farewel; I have thought my way too. [_Exit._ + + _Anc._ Were never such rare Cries in Christendome, + As _Mosco_ shall afford: we'll live by fooling + Now fighting's gone, and they shall find and feel it. [_Exit._ + + +SCENE II. + + _Enter_ Archas, Honora, _and_ Viola. + + _Ar._ No more, it must be so; do you think I would send ye, + Your father and your friend-- + + _Viol._ Pray Sir, be good to us, + Alas, we know no Court, nor seek that knowledge; + We are content with harmless things at home, + Children of your content, bred up in quiet, + Only to know our selves, to seek a Wisedome + From that we understand, easie and honest; + To make our actions worthy of your Honour, + Their ends as innocent as we begot 'em; + What shall we look for Sir, what shall we learn there, + That this more private sweetness cannot teach us? + Vertue was never built upon ambition, + Nor the Souls Beauties bred out of Bravery: + What a terrible Father would you seem to us, + Now you have moulded us, and wrought our tempers + To easie and obedient ways, uncrooked, + Where the fair mind can never lose nor loiter, + Now to divert our Natures, now to stem us + Roughly against the tide of all this treasure? + Would ye have us proud? 'tis sooner bred than buried; + Wickedly proud? for such things dwell at Court, Sir. + + _Hon._ Would ye have your Children learn to forget their father, + And when he dies dance on his Monument? + Shall we seek Vertue in a Sattin Gown; + Embroider'd Vertue? Faith in a well-curl'd Feather? + And set our Credits to the tune of green sleeves? + This may be done; and if you like, it shall be. + You should have sent us thither when we were younger, + Our maiden-heads at a higher rate; our Innocence + Able to make a Mart indeed: we are now too old, Sir, + Perhaps they'll think too cunning too, and slight us; + Besides, we are altogether unprovided, + Unfurnisht utterly of the rules should guide us: + This Lord comes, licks his hand, and protests to me; + Compares my Beauty to a thousand fine things; + Mountains, and Fountains, Trees, and Stars, and Goblins; + Now have not I the faith for to believe him; + He offers me the honourable courtesie, + To lye with me all night, what a misery is this? + I am bred up so foolishly, alas, I dare not, + And how madly these things will shew there. + + _Arc._ I send ye not, + Like parts infected, to draw more corruption; + Like Spiders to grow great, with growing evil: + With your own Vertues season'd, and my prayers, + The Card of goodness in your minds, that shows ye + When ye sail false; the needle toucht with honour, + That through the blackest storms, still points at happiness; + Your Bodies the tall barks, rib'd round with goodness, + Your Heavenly Souls the Pilots, thus I send you; + Thus I prepare your Voyage; sound before ye, + And ever as you sail through this Worlds Vanity, + Discover Sholes, Rocks, Quicksands, cry out to ye, + Like a good Master tack about for Honour: + The Court is Vertue's School, at least it should be; + Nearer the Sun the Mine lies, the metal's purer: + Be it granted, if the spring be once infected, + Those Branches that flow from him must run muddy; + Say you find some Sins there, and those no small ones, + And they like lazie fits begin to shake ye: + Say they affect your strengths, my happy Children, + Great things through greatest hazards are atchiev'd still, + And then they shine, then goodness has his glory, + His Crown fast rivetted, then time moves under, + Where, through the mist of errors, like the Sun, + Through thick and pitchy Clouds, he breaks out nobly. + + _Hon._ I thank you Sir, you have made me half a Souldier, + I will to Court most willingly, most fondly. + And if there be such stirring things amongst 'em, + Such Travellers into _Virginia_ + As Fame reports, if they can win me, take me; + I think I have a close Ward, and a sure one; + An honest mind I hope, 'tis petticoat-proof, + Chain-proof, and Jewel-proof; I know 'tis Gold-proof, + A Coach and four Horses cannot draw me from it: + As for your handsome Faces, and filed Tongues, + Curl'd Millers heads, I have another word for them, + And yet I'll flatter too, as fast as they do, + And lye, but not as lewdly; Come, be valiant, Sister, + She that dares not stand the push o'th' Court, dares nothing, + And yet come off ungraced: Sir, like you, + We both affect great dangers now, and the World shall see + All glory lies not in Mans Victorie. + + _Arc._ Mine own _Honora_. + + _Viol._ I am very fearful, + Would I were stronger built: you would have me honest? + + _Arc._ Or not at all my _Viola_. + + _Viol._ I'll think on't, + For 'tis no easie promise, and live there: + Do you think we shall do well? + + _Hon._ Why, what should aile us? + + _Viol._ Certain they'll tempt us strongly; beside the glory + Which Women may affect, they are handsom Gentlemen, + Every part speaks: nor is it one denial, + Nor two, nor ten; from every look we give 'em, + They'll frame a hope; even from our prayers, promises. + + _Hon._ Let 'em feed so, and be fat; there is no fear, wench, + I[f] thou beest fast to thy self. + + _Viol._ I hope I shall be; + And your example will work more. + + _Enter_ Theodore. + + _Hon._ Thou shalt not want it. + + _The._ How do you, Sir? can you lend a man an Angel? + I hear you let out money. + + _Arc._ Very well, Sir, + You are pleasantly dispos'd: I am glad to see it. + Can you lend me your patience, and be rul'd by me? + + _The._ Is't come to patience now? + + _Arc._ Is't not a Vertue? + + _The._ I know not: I ne'r found it so. + + _Arc._ That's because + Thy anger ever knows, and not thy judgment. + + _The._ I know you have been rifl'd. + + _Arc._ Nothing less, Boy; + Lord, what opinions these vain People publish! + Rifl'd of what? + + _The._ Study your Vertue, Patience, + It may get Mustard to your Meat. Why in such haste, Sir, + Sent ye for me? + + _Arc._ For this end only, _Theodore_, + To wait upon your Sisters to the Court; + I am commanded they live there. + + _The._ To th' Court, Sir? + + _Arc._ To th' Court I say. + + _The._ And must I wait upon 'em? + + _Arc._ Yes, 'tis most fit you should, you are their Brother. + + _The._ Is this the business? I had thought your mind, Sir, + Had been set forward on some noble action, + Something had truly stir'd ye. To th' Court with these? + Why, they are your Daughters, Sir. + + _Arc._ All this I know, Sir. + + _The._ The good old Woman on a Bed he threw: + To th' Court? + + _Arc._ Thou art mad. + + _The._ Nor drunk as you are: + Drunk with your duty, Sir: do you call it duty? + A pox of duty, what can these do there? + What should they do? Can ye look Babies, Sisters, + In the young Gallants eyes, and twirl their Band-strings? + Can ye ride out to air your selves? Pray Sir, + Be serious with me, do you speak this truly? + + _Arc._ Why, didst thou never hear of Women + Yet at Court, Boy? + + _The._ Yes, and good Women too, very good Women, + Excellent honest Women: but are you sure, Sir, + That these will prove so? + + _Hon._ There's the danger, Brother. + + _The._ God-a-mercy Wench, thou hast a grudging of it. + + _Arc._ Now be you serious, Sir, and observe what I say, + Do it, and do it handsomly; go with 'em. + + _The._ With all my heart, Sir; I am in no fault now; + If they be thought Whores for being in my Company; + Pray write upon their Backs, they are my Sisters, + And where I shall deliver 'em. + + _Arc._ Ye are wondrous jocund, + But prithee tell me, art thou so lewd a Fellow? + I never knew thee fail a truth. + + _The._ I am a Souldier, + And spell you what that means. + + _Arc._ A Souldier? + What dost thou make of me? + + _The._ Your Palate's down, Sir. + + _Arc._ I thank ye, Sir. + + _The._ Come, shall we to this matter? + You will to Court? + + _Hon._ If you will please to honour us. + + _The._ I'll honour ye, I warrant; I'll set ye off + With such a lustre, Wenches; alas poor _Viola_, + Thou art a fool, thou criest for eating white bread: + Be a good Huswife of thy tears, and save 'em, + Thou wilt have time enough to shed 'em, Sister. + Do you weep too? nay, then I'll fool no more. + Come worthy Sisters, since it must be so, + And since he thinks it fit to try your Vertues, + Be you as strong to truth, as I to guard ye, + And this old Gentleman shall have joy of ye. [_Exeunt._ + + +SCENE III. + + _Enter Duke, and_ Burris. + + _Du._ _Burris_ take you ten thousand of those Crowns, + And those two Chains of Pearl they hold the richest, + I give 'em ye. + + _Bur._ I humbly thank your Grace; + And may your great example work in me + That noble Charity to men more worthy, + And of more wants. + + _Du._ You bear a good mind, _Burris_; + Take twenty thousand now: be not so modest, + It shall be so, I give 'em: go, there's my ring for't. + + _Bur._ Heaven bless your Highness ever. [_Exit._ + + _Du._ You are honest. + + _Enter_ Alinda, _and_ Putskey _at door_. + + _Put._ They're coming now to Court, as fair as vertue: + Two brighter Stars ne'er rose here. + + _Alin._ Peace, I have it, + And what my Art can do; the Duke-- + + _Put._ I am gone, + Remember. [_Exit._ + + _Alin._ I am counsell'd to the full, Sir. + + _Duke._ My pretty Mistris, whither lyes your business? + How kindly I should take this, were it to me now? + + _Alin._ I must confess immediately to your Grace, + At this time. + + _Duke._ You have no address, I do believe ye, + I would ye had. + + _Alin._ 'Twere too much boldness, Sir, + Upon so little knowledge, less deserving. + + _Duke._ You'll make a perfect Courtier. + + _Alin._ A very poor one. + + _Duke._ A very fair one, sweet; come hither to me. + What killing eyes this Wench has! in his glory + Not the bright Sun, when the _Sirian_ Star reigns, + Shines half so fiery. + + _Alin._ Why does your Grace so view me? + Nothing but common handsomness dwells here, Sir, + Scarce that: your Grace is pleas'd to mock my meanness. + + _Duke._ Thou shalt not go: I do not lie unto thee, + In my eye thou appear'st-- + + _Alin._ Dim not the sight, Sir, + I am too dull an object. + + _Duke._ Canst thou love me? + Canst thou love him will honour thee? + + _Alin._ I can love, + And love as you do too: but 'twill not shew well: + Or if it do shew here where all light lustres, + Tinsel affections make a glorious glistering, + 'Twill halt i'th' handsom way. + + _Duke._ Are ye so cunning? + Dost think I love not truly? + + _Alin._ No, ye cannot, + You never travel'd that way yet: pray pardon me, + I prate so boldly to you. + + _Duke._ There's no harm done: + But what's your reason, sweet? + + _Alin._ I would tell your Grace, + But happily-- + + _Duke._ It shall be pleasing to me. + + _Alin._ I should love you again, and then you would hate me. + With all my service I should follow ye, + And through all dangers. + + _Duke._ This would more provoke me, + More make me see thy worths, + More make me meet 'em. + + _Alin._ You should do so, if ye did well and truly: + But though ye be a Prince, and have power in ye, + Power of example too, ye have fail'd and falter'd. + + _Duke._ Give me example where? + + _Alin._ You had a Mistris, + Oh Heaven, so bright, so brave a dame, so lovely, + In all her life so true! + + _Duke._ A Mistris? + + _Alin._ That serv'd you with that constancy, that care, + That lov'd your will, and woo'd it too. + + _Duke._ What Mistris? + + _Alin._ That nurs'd your honour up, held fast your vertue, + And when she kist encreas'd, not stole your goodness. + + _Duke._ And I neglected her? + + _Alin._ Lost her, forsook her, + Wantonly flung her off. + + _Duke._ What was her name? + + _Alin._ Her name as lovely as her self, as noble, + And in it all that's excellent. + + _Duke._ What was it? + + _Alin._ Her name was _Beau-desert_: + Do you know her now, Sir? + + _Duke._ _Beau-desert_? I do not remember-- + + _Alin._ I know you do not; + Yet she has a plainer name; Lord _Archas_ service; + Do you yet remember her? there was a Mistris + Fairer than Woman, far fonder to you, Sir, + Than Mothers to their first-born joyes: Can you love? + Dare you profess that truth to me a stranger, + A thing of no regard, no name, no lustre, + When your most noble love you have neglected, + A beauty all the world would woo and honour? + Would you have me credit this? think you can love me, + And hold ye constant, when I have read this story? + Is't possible you should ever favour me, + To a slight pleasure prove a friend, and fast too, + When, where you were most ty'd, most bound to benefit, + Bound by the chains of honesty and honour, + You have broke and boldly too? I am a weak one, + Arm'd only with my fears: I beseech your Grace + Tempt me no further. + + _Du._ Who taught you this Lesson? + + _Alin._ Woful experience, Sir: if you seek a fair one, + Worthy your love, if yet you have that perfect, + Two Daughters of his ruin'd vertue now + Arrive at Court, excellent fair indeed, Sir, + But this will be the Plague on't, they're excellent honest. + + _Enter_ Olympia _and_ Petesca _privately_. + + _Du._ I love thy face. + + _Alin._ Upon my life ye cannot: + I do not love it my self, Sir, 'tis a lewd one, + So truly ill Art cannot mend it; but if 'twere handsome, + At least if I thought so, you should hear me talk, Sir, + In a new strain; and though ye are a Prince, + Make ye Petition to me too, and wait my answers; + Yet o' my Conscience I should pity ye, + After some ten years siege. + + _Du._ Prethee do now. + + _Alin._ What would ye do? + + _Du._ Why I would lye with ye. + + _Alin._ I do not think ye would. + + _Du._ In troth I would Wench. + Here, take this Jewel. + + _Alin._ Out upon't, that's scurvy. + Nay, if we do, sure we'll do for good fellowship, + For pure love, or nothing: thus you shall be sure, Sir, + You shall not pay too dear for't. + + _Du._ Sure I cannot. + + _Alin._ By'r Lady but ye may: when ye have found me able + To do your work well, ye may pay my wages. + + _Pet._ Why does your Grace start back? + + _Olym._ I ha' seen that shakes me: + Chills all my bloud: O where is faith or goodness? + _Alinda_ thou art false, false, false thou fair one, + Wickedness false; and (wo is me) I see it. + For ever false. + + _Pet._ I am glad 't has taken thus right. [_Exeunt._ + + _Alin._ I'le go ask my Lady, Sir. + + _Du._ What? + + _Alin._ Whether I shall lye with ye, or no: If I find her willing-- + For look ye Sir, I have sworn, while I am in her service-- + ('Twas a rash Oath I must confess.) + + _Du._ Thou mockst me. + + _Alin._ Why, would ye lye with me, if I were willing? + Would you abuse my weakness? + + _Du._ I would piece it, + And make it stronger. + + _Alin._ I humbly thank your highness, + When you piece me, you must piece me to my Coffin: + When you have got my Maiden-head, I take it, + 'Tis not an inch of an Apes tail will restore it, + I love ye, and I honour ye, but this way + I'le neither love nor serve ye. + Heaven change your mind, Sir. [_Exit._ + + _Duke._ And thine too: + For it must be chang'd, it shall be. [_Exit._ + + +SCENE IV. + + _Enter_ Boroskie, Burris, Theodore, Viola _and_ Honora. + + _Bor._ They are goodly Gentlewomen. + + _Bur._ They are, + Wondrous sweet Women both. + + _Theo._ Does your Lordship like 'em? + They are my Sisters, Sir; good lusty Lasses, + They'll do their labour well, I warrant ye, + You'll find no Bed-straw here, Sir. + + _Hon._ Thank ye Brother. + + _The._ This is not so strongly built: but she is good mettle, + Of a good stirring strain too: she goes tith, Sir. + + _Enter two Gentlemen._ + + Here they be, Gentlemen, must make ye merry, + The toyes you wot of: do you like their complexions? + They be no Moors: what think ye of this hand, Gentlemen? + Here's a white Altar for your sacrifice: + A thousand kisses here. Nay, keep off yet Gentlemen, + Let's start first, and have fair play: what would ye give now + To turn the Globe up, and find the rich _Moluccas_? + To pass the straights? here (do ye itch) by St _Nicholas_, + Here's that will make ye scratch and claw, + Claw my fine Gentlemen, move ye in divers sorts: + Pray ye let me request ye, to forget + To say your prayers, whilest these are Courtiers; + Or if ye needs will think of Heaven, let it be no higher + Than their eyes. + + _Bor._ How will ye have 'em bestow'd, Sir? + + _Theo._ Even how your Lordship please, + So you do not bake 'em. + + _Bor._ Bake 'em? + + _Theo._ They are too high a meat that way, they run to gelly. + But if you'll have 'em for your own diet, take my counsel, + Stew 'em between two Feather-beds. + + _Bur._ Please you Colonel + To let 'em wait upon the Princess? + + _Theo._ Yes, Sir, + And thank your honour too: but then happily, + These noble Gentlemen shall have no access to 'em, + And to have 'em buy new Cloaths, study new faces, + And keep a stinking stir with themselves for nothing, + 'Twill not be well i'faith: they have kept their bodies, + And been at charge for Bathes: do you see that shirt there? + Weigh but the moral meaning, 'twill be grievous: + Alas, I brought 'em to delight these Gentlemen, + I weigh their wants by mine: I brought 'em wholesome, + Wholesome, and young my Lord, and two such blessings + They will not light upon again in ten years. + + _Bor._ 'Tis fit they wait upon her. + + _Theo._ They are fit for any thing: + They'll wait upon a man, they are not bashful, + Carry his Cloak, or unty his points, or any thing, + Drink drunk, and take Tobacco; the familiar'st fools-- + This wench will leap over Stools too, and sound a Trumpet, + Wrastle, and pitch the Bar; they are finely brought up. + + _Bor._ Ladies, ye are bound to your Brother, + And have much cause to thank him: + I'le ease ye of this charge, and to the Princess, + So please you, I'le attend 'em. + + _Theo._ Thank your Lordship: + If there be e're a private corner as ye go, Sir, + A foolish lobbie out o'th' way, make danger, + Try what they are, try-- + + _Bor._ Ye are a merry Gentleman. + + _The._ I would fain be your honours kinsman. + + _Bor._ Ye are too curst, Sir. + + _The._ Farewel wenches, keep close your ports, y'are washt else. + + _Hon._ Brother, bestow your fears where they are needful. + [_Exit_ Boros. Honor. Viol. + + _The._ _Honor_ thy name is, and I hope thy Nature. + Go after, Gentlemen, go, get a snatch if you can, + Yond' old _Erra Pater_ will never please 'em. + Alas I brought 'em for you, but see the luck on't, + I swear I meant as honestly toward ye-- + Nay do not cry good Gentlemen: a little counsel + Will do no harm: they'll walk abroad i'th' Evenings, + Ye may surprize 'em easily, they wear no Pistols. + Set down your minds in Metre, flowing Metre, + And get some good old linnen Woman to deliver it, + That has the trick on't: you cannot fail: + Farewel Gentlemen. [_Exeunt Gent._ + + _Bur._ You have frighted off these flesh-flies. + + _The._ Flesh-flies indeed my Lord. + + _Enter a Servant._ + + And it must be very stinking flesh they will not seize on. + + _Serv._ Your Lordship bid me bring this Casket. + + _Bur._ Yes, Good Colonel + Commend me to your worthy Father, and as a pledge + He ever holds my love, and service to him, + Deliver him this poor, but hearty token, + And where I may be his-- + + _The._ Ye are too noble; + A wonder here my Lord, that dare be honest, + When all men hold it vitious: I shall deliver it, + And with it your most noble love. Your servant. [_Ex._ Bur. + Were there but two more such at Court, 'twere Sainted, + This will buy Brawn this Christmas yet, and Muscadine. [_Ex._ + + +SCENE V. + + _Enter Ancient, crying Brooms, and after him severally, + four Souldiers, crying other things._ Boroskie _and Gent, + over the Stage observing them_. + +I. SONG. + + Anc. _Broom, Broom, the bonnie Broom, + Come buy my Birchen Broom, + I'th' Wars we have no more room, + Buy all my bonnie Broom, + For a kiss take two; + If those will not do, + For a little, little pleasure, + Take all my whole treasure: + If all these will not do't, + Take the Broom-man to boot. + Broom, Broom, the bonnie Broom._ + +II. SONG. + + 1 Soul. _The Wars are done and gone, + And Souldiers now neglected, Pedlers are, + Come Maidens, come alone, + For I can show you handsome, handsome ware; + Powders for, for the head, + And drinks for your bed, + To make ye blith and bonney. + As well in the night we Souldiers can fight, + And please a young wench as any._ + + 2 Soul. _I have fine Potato's, + Ripe Potato's._ + +III. SONG. + + 3 Soul. _Will ye buy any Honesty, come away, + I sell it openly by day, + I bring no forced light, nor no Candle + To cozen ye; come buy and handle: + This will shew the great man good, + The Tradesman where he swears and lyes, + Each Lady of a noble bloud, + The City dame to rule her eyes: + Ye are rich men now: come buy, and then + I'le make ye richer, honest men._ + +IV. SONG. + + 4 Sol. _Have ye any crackt maiden-heads, to new leach or mend? + Have ye any old maiden-heads to sell or to change? + Bring 'em to me with a little pretty gin, + I'le clout 'em, I'le mend 'em, I'le knock in a pin, + Shall make 'em as good maids agen, + As ever they have been._ + + _Bor._ What means all this, why do y'sell Brooms _Ancient_? + Is it in wantonness, or want? + + _An._ The only reason is, + To sweep your Lordships conscience: here's one for the nonce. + Gape Sir, you have swallowed many a goodlier matter-- + The only casting for a crazie conscience. + + _3 Sol._ Will your Lordship buy any honestie? 'twill be worth your mony. + + _B[o]r._ How is this? + + _3 Sol._ Honestie my Lord, 'tis here in a quill. + + _An._ Take heed you open it not, for 'tis so subtle, + The least puffe of wind will blow it out o'th' Kingdom. + + _2 Sol._ Will your Lordship please to taste a fine Potato? + 'Twill advance your wither'd state. + + _Anc._ Fill your honour full of most noble itches, + And make Jack dance in your Lordships breeches. + + 1 Sol. _If your Daughters on their beds. + Have bow'd, or crackt their maiden-heads; + If in a Coach with two much tumbling, + They chance to crie, fie, fo, what fumbling; + If her foot slip, and down fall she, + And break her leg 'bove the knee, + The one and thirtieth of Februarie let this be ta'ne, + And they shall be arrant maids again._ + + _Bor._ Ye are brave Souldiers; keep your wantonness, + A winter will come on to shake this wilfulness. + Disport your selves, and when you want your mony-- [_Exit._ + + _Anc._ Broom, Broom, &c. [_Exeunt Singing._ + + +SCENA VI. + + _Enter_ Alinda, Honora, Viola. + + _Al._ You must not be so fearfull, little one, + Nor Lady you so sad, you will ne're make Courtiers + With these dull sullen thoughts; this place is pleasure, + Preserv'd to that use, so inhabited; + And those that live here, live delightfull, joyfull: + These are the Gardens of _Adonis_, Ladies, + Where all sweets to their free and noble uses, + Grow ever young and courted. + + _Hon._ Bless me Heaven, + Can things of her years arrive at these rudiments? + By your leave fair Gentlewoman, how long have you been here? + + _Al._ Faith much about a week. + + _Hon._ You have studied hard, + And by my faith arriv'd at a great knowledge. + + _Viol._ Were not you bashfull at first? + + _Al._ I, I, for an hour or two: + But when I saw people laugh'd at me for it, + And thought it a dull breeding-- + + _Hon._ You are govern'd here then + Much after the mens opinions. + + _Al._ Ever Lady. + + _Hon._ And what they think is honourable.-- + + _Al._ Most precisely + We follow with all faith. + + _Hon._ A goodly Catechisme. + + _Viol._ But bashfull for an hour or two? + + _Al._ Faith to say true, + I do not think I was so long: for look ye, + 'Tis to no end here, put on what shape ye will, + And soure your self with ne're so much austeritie, + You shall be courted in the same, and won too, + 'Tis but some two hours more; and so much time lost, + Which we hold pretious here: In so much time now + As I have told you this, you may lose a Servant, + Your age, nor all your Art can e're recover. + Catch me occasion as she comes, hold fast there, + Till what you do affect is ripn'd to ye. + Has the Duke seen ye yet? + + _Hon._ What if he have not? + + _Al._ You do your beauties too much wrong, appearing + So full of sweetness, newness; set so richly, + As if a Counsel beyond nature fram'd ye. + + _Hon._ If we were thus, say heaven had given these blessings, + Must we turn these to sin-oblations? + + _Al._ How foolishly this Countrey way shews in ye? + How full of flegm? do you come here to pray, Ladies? + You had best cry, stand away, let me alone Gentlemen, + I'le tell my Father else. + + _Viol._ This woman's naught sure, + A very naughtie woman. + + _Hon._ Come, say on friend, + I'le be instructed by ye. + + _Al._ You'l thank me for't. + + _Hon._ Either I or the devil shall: The Duke you were speaking of. + + _Al._ 'Tis well remembred: yes, let him first see you, + Appear not openly till he has view'd ye. + + _Hon._ He's a very noble Prince they say. + + _Al._ O wondrous gracious; + And as you may deliver your self at the first viewing. + For look ye, you must bear your self; yet take heed + It be so season'd with a sweet humilitie, + And grac'd with such a bountie in your beautie-- + + _Hon._ But I hope he will offer me no ill? + + _Al._ No, no: + 'Tis like he will kiss ye, and play with ye. + + _Hon._ Play with me, how? + + _Al._ Why, good Lord, that you are such a fool now! + No harm assure your self. + + _Viol._ Will he play with me too? + + _Al._ Look babies in your eyes, my prettie sweet one: + There's a fine sport: do you know your lodgings yet? + + _Hon._ I hear of none. + + _Al._ I do then, they are handsom, + Convenient for access. + + _Viol._ Access? + + _Al._ Yes little one, + For visitation of those friends and Servants, + Your beauties shall make choice of: friends and visits: + Do not you know those uses? Alas poor novice; + There's a close Cowch or two, handsomely placed too. + + _Viol._ What are those I pray you? + + _Al._ Who would be troubled with such raw things? they are to lie upon, + And your love by ye; and discourse, and toy in. + + _Viol._ Alas I have no love. + + _Al._ You must by any means: + You'l have a hundred, fear not. + + _Viol._ Honestie keep me: + What shall I doe with all those? + + _Al._ You'l find uses: + Ye are ignorant yet, let time work; you must learn too, + To lie handsomly in your bed a mornings, neatly drest + In a most curious Wastcoat, to set ye off well, + Play with your Bracelets, sing: you must learn to rhime too, + And riddle neatly; studie the hardest language, + And 'tis no matter whether it be sense, or no, + So it go seemlie off. Be sure ye profit + In kissing, kissing sweetly: there lies a main point, + A key that opens to all practick pleasure; + I'le help ye to a friend of mine shall teach ye, + And suddenlie: your Country way is fulsome. + + _Hon._ Have ye schools for all these mysteries? + + _Al._ O yes, + And several hours prefix'd to studie in: + Ye may have Kalenders to know the good hour, + And when to take a jewel: for the ill too, + When to refuse, with observations on 'em; + Under what Sign 'tis best meeting in an Arbor, + And in what Bower, and hour it works; a thousand, + When in a Coach, when in a private lodging, + With all their vertues. + + _Hon._ Have ye studied these? + How beastly they become your youth? how bawdily? + A woman of your tenderness, a teacher, + Teacher of these lewd Arts? of your full beauty? + A man made up in lust would loath this in ye: + The rankest Leacher, hate such impudence. + They say the Devil can assume heavens brightness, + And so appear to tempt us: sure thou art no woman. + + _Al._ I joy to find ye thus. + + _Hon._ Thou hast no tenderness, + No reluctation in thy heart: 'tis mischief. + + _Al._ All's one for that; read these and then be satisfi'd, + A few more private rules I have gather'd for ye, + Read 'em, and well observe 'em: so I leave ye. [_Exit._ + + _Viol._ A wond[ro]us wicked woman: shame go with thee. + + _Hon._ What new _Pandoras_ box is this? I'le see it, + Though presently I tear it. Read Thine _Viola_, + 'Tis in our own wills to believe and follow. + + _Worthy_ Honora, _as you have begun + In vertues spotless school, so forward run: + Pursue that nobleness, and chaste desire + You ever had, burn in that holy fire; + And a white Martyr to fair memorie + Give up your name, unsoil'd of infamy._ + + How's this? Read yours out Sister: this amazes me. + + Vio. _Fear not thou yet unblasted Violet, + Nor let my wanton words a doubt beget, + Live in that peace and sweetness of thy bud, + Remember whose thou art, and grow still good. + Remember what thou art, and stand a storie + Fit for thy noble Sex, and thine own glorie._ + + _Hon._ I know not what to think. + + _Viol._ Sure a good woman, + An excellent woman, Sister. + + _Hon._ It confounds me; + Let 'em use all their arts, if these be their ends, + The Court I say breeds the best foes and friends. + Come, let's be honest wench, and doe our best service. + + _Viol._ A most excellent woman, I will love her. [_Exeunt._ + + + + +_Actus Quartus. Scena Prima._ + + + _Enter_ Olympia _with a Casket, and_ Alinda. + + _Al._ Madam, the Duke has sent for the two Ladies. + + _Olym._ I prethee go: I know thy thoughts are with him. + Go, go _Alinda_, do not mock me more. + I have found thy heart wench, do not wrong thy Mistris, + Thy too much loving Mistris: do not abuse her. + + _Al._ By your own fair hands I understand ye not. + + _Olym._ By thy own fair eyes I understand thee too much, + Too far, and built a faith there thou hast ruin'd. + Goe, and enjoy thy wish, thy youth, thy pleasure, + Enjoy the greatness no doubt he has promised, + Enjoy the service of all eyes that see thee, + The glory thou hast aim'd at, and the triumph: + Only this last love I ask, forget thy Mistris. + + _Al._ Oh, who has wrong'd me? who has ruin'd me? + Poor wretched Girle, what poyson is flung on thee? + Excellent vertue, from whence flows this anger? + + _Ol._ Go, ask my Brother, ask the faith thou gav'st me, + Ask all my favours to thee, ask my love, + Last, thy forgetfulness of good: then flye me, + For we must part _Alinda_. + + _Al._ You are weary of me; + I must confess, I was never worth your service, + Your bounteous favours less; but that my duty, + My ready will, and all I had to serve ye-- + O Heaven thou know'st my honestie. + + _Olym._ No more: + Take heed, heaven has a justice: take this ring with ye, + This doting spell you gave me: too well _Alinda_, + Thou knew'st the vertue in't; too well I feel it: + Nay keep that too, it may sometimes remember ye, + When you are willing to forget who gave it, + And to what vertuous end. + + _Al._ Must I goe from ye? + Of all the sorrows sorrow has--must I part with ye? + Part with my noble Mistris? + + _Olym._ Or I with thee wench. + + _Al._ And part stain'd with opinion? Farewel Lady, + Happy and blessed Lady, goodness keep ye: + Thus your poor Servant full of grief turns from ye, + For ever full of grief, for ever from ye. + I have no being now, no friends, no Country, + I wander heaven knows whither, heaven knows how. + No life, now you are lost: only mine innocence, + That little left me of my self, goes with me, + That's all my bread and comfort. I confess Madam, + Truely confess, the Duke has often courted me. + + _Olym._ And pour'd his Soul into thee, won thee. + + _Al._ Do you think so? + Well, time that told this tale, will tell my truth too, + And say ye had a faithfull, honest Servant: + The business of my life is now to pray for ye, + Pray for your vertuous loves; Pray for your children, + When Heaven shall make ye happy. + + _Olym._ How she wounds me! + Either I am undone, or she must go: take these with ye, + Some toyes may doe ye service; and this mony; + And when ye want, I love ye not so poorly, + Not yet _Alinda_, that I would see ye perish. + Prethee be good, and let me hear: look on me, + I love those eyes yet dearly; I have kiss'd thee, + And now I'le doe't again: Farewel _Alinda_, + I am too full to speak more, and too wretched. [_Exit._ + + _Al._ You have my faith, + And all the world my fortune. [_Exit._ + + +SCENA II. + + _Enter_ Theodor. + + _The._ I would fain hear + What becomes of these two Wenches: + And if I can, I will doe 'em good. + + _Enter Gentleman, passing over the Stage._ + + Do you hear my honest friend? + He knows no such name: + What a world of business, + Which by interpretation are meer nothings, + These things have here! 'Mass now I think on't better, + I wish he be not sent for one of them + To some of these by-lodgings: me thought I saw + A kind of reference in his face to Bawderie. + + _Enter Gentleman, with a Gentlewoman, passing over the Stage._ + + He has her, but 'tis none of them: hold fast thief: + An excellent touzing knave. Mistris + You are to suffer your penance some half hour hence now. + How far a fine Court Custard with Plums in it + Will prevail with one of these waiting Gentlewomen, + They are taken with these soluble things exceedingly; + This is some yeoman o'th' bottles now that has sent for her, + That she calls Father: now woe to this Ale incense. + By your leave Sir. + + _Enter a_ Servant. + + _Ser._ Well Sir; what's your pleasure with me? + + _The._ You do not know the way to the maids lodgings? + + _Ser._ Yes indeed do I Sir. + + _The._ But you will not tell me? + + _Ser._ No indeed will not I, because you doubt it. [_Exit._ + + _Enter_ 2 Servant. + + _The._ These are fine gim-cracks: hey, here comes another, + A Flagon full of wine in's hand, I take it. + Well met my friend, is that wine? + + _2 Ser._ Yes indeed is it. + + _The._ Faith I'le drink on't then. + + _2 Ser._ Ye may, because ye have sworn Sir. + + _The._ 'Tis very good, I'le drink a great deal now Sir. + + _2 Ser._ I cannot help it Sir. + + _The._ I'le drink more yet. + + _2 Ser._ 'Tis in your own hands. + + _The._ There's your pot, I thank ye. + Pray let me drink again. + + _2 Ser._ Faith but ye shall not. + Now have I sworn I take it. Fare ye well Sir. [_Exit._ + + _Enter_ Lady. + + _The._ This is the fin'st place to live in I e're enter'd. + Here comes a Gentlewoman, and alone; I'le to her. + Madam, my Lord my Master. + + _Lady._ Who's your Lord Sir? + + _The._ The Lord _Boroskey_, Lady. + + _Lady._ Pray excuse me: + Here's something for your pains: within this hour Sir, + One of the choice young Ladies shall attend him: + Pray let it be in that Chamber juts out to the water; + 'Tis private and convenient: doe my humble service + To my honourable good Lord, I beseech ye Sir; + If it please you to visit a poor Lady-- + You carrie the 'haviour of a noble Gentleman. + + _The._ I shall be bold. + + _Lady._ 'Tis a good aptness in ye. + I lye here in the Wood-yard, the blue lodgings Sir; + They call me merrily the Lady of the ---- Sir; + A little I know what belongs to a Gentleman, + And if it please you take the pains. [_Exit._ + + _The._ Dear Lady, take the pains? + Why a horse would not take the pains that thou requir'st now, + To cleave old crab-tree: one of the choice young Ladies? + I would I had let this Bawd goe, she has frighted me; + I am cruelly afraid of one of my Tribe now; + But if they will doe, the Devil cannot stop 'em. + Why should he have a young Lady? are women now + O'th' nature of Bottles, to be stopt with Corks? + O the thousand little furies that flye here now! + How now Captain? + + _Enter_ Putsky. + + _Puts._ I come to seek you out Sir, + And all the Town I have travell'd. + + _The._ What's the news man? + + _Puts._ That that concerns us all, and very nearly: + The Duke this night holds a great feast at Court, + To which he bids for guests all his old Counsellors, + And all his favourites: your Father's sent for. + + _The._ Why he is neither in council, nor in favour. + + _Pu._ That's it: have an eye now, or never, and a quick one, + An eye that must not wink from good intelligence. + I heard a Bird sing, they mean him no good office. + + _Enter_ Ancient. + + _The._ Art sure he sups here? + + _Puts._ Sure as 'tis day. + + _The._ 'Tis like then: + How now, where hast thou been _Ancient_? + + _Anc._ Measuring the City: + I have left my Brooms at gate here; + By this time the Porter has stole 'em to sweep out Rascals. + + _Theod._ Bro[o]ms? + + _Anc._ I have been crying Brooms all the town over, + And such a Mart I have made, there's no tread near it. + O the young handsom wenches, how they twitter'd, + When they but saw me shake my ware, and sing too; + Come hither Master Broom-man I beseech ye: + Good Master Broom-man hither, cries another. + + _The._ Thou art a mad fellow. + + _Anc._ They are all as mad as I: they all have tra[de]s now, + And roar about the streets like Bull-beggers. + + _The._ What company of Souldiers are they? + + _Anc._ By this means I have gather'd + Above a thousand tall and hardy Souldiers, + If need be Colonel. + + _The._ That need's come _Ancient_, + And 'twas discreetly done: goe, draw 'em presently, + But without suspicion: this night we shall need 'em; + Let 'em be near the Court, let _Putskie_ guide 'em; + And wait me for occasion: here I'le stay still. + + _Puts._ If it fall out we are ready; if not we are scatter'd: + I'le wait ye at an inch. + + _The._ Doe, Farewel. [_Exeunt._ + + +SCENA III. + + _Enter Duke_, Borosky. + + _Duke._ Are the Souldiers still so mutinous? + + _Bor._ More than ever, + No Law nor Justice frights 'em: all the Town over + They play new pranks and gambols: no mans person, + Of what degree soever, free from abuses: + And durst they doe this, (let your grace consider) + These monstrous, most offensive things, these villanies, + If not set on, and fed? if not by one + They honour more than you? and more aw'd by him? + + _Duke._ Happily their own wants. + + _Boros._ I offer to supply 'em, + And every hour make tender of their moneys: + They scorn it, laugh at me that offer it: + I fear the next device will be my life Sir; + And willingly I'le give it, so they stay there. + + _Duke._ Do you think Lord _Archas_ privie? + + _Bor._ More than thought, + I know it Sir, I know they durst not doe + These violent rude things, abuse the State thus, + But that they have a hope by his ambitions-- + + _Duke._ No more: he's sent for? + + _Boros._ Yes, and will be here sure. + + _Duke._ Let me talk further with you anon. + + _Boros._ I'le wait Sir. + + _Duke._ Did you speak to the Ladies? + + _Boros._ They'l attend your grace presently. + + _Duke._ How do you like 'em? + + _Boros._ My eyes are too dull Judges. + They wait here Sir. [_Exit._ + + _Enter_ Honora, _and_ Viola. + + _Duke._ Be you gone then: Come in Ladies, + Welcom to th' court sweet beauties; now the court shines, + When such true beams of beauty strike amongst us: + Welcom, welcom, even as your own joyes welcom. + How do you like the Court? how seems it to you? + Is't not a place created for all sweetness? + Why were you made such strangers to this happiness? + Barr'd the delights this holds? the richest jewels + Set ne're so well, if then not worn to wonder, + By judging eyes not set off, lose their lustre: + Your Country shades are faint; blasters of beauty; + The manners like the place, obscure and heavie; + The Rose buds of the beauties turn to cankers, + Eaten with inward thoughts: whilst there ye wander. + Here Ladies, here, you were not made for Cloisters, + Here is the Sphere you move in: here shine nobly, + And by your powerfull influence command all: + What a sweet modestie dwells round about 'em, + And like a nipping morn pulls in their blossoms? + + _Hon._ Your grace speaks cunningly, you doe not this, + I hope Sir, to betray us; we are poor triumphs; + Nor can our loss of honour adde to you Sir: + Great men, and great thoughts, seek things great and worthy, + Subjects to make 'em live, and not to lose 'em; + Conquests so nobly won, can never perish; + We are two simple maids, untutor'd here Sir; + Two honest maids, is that a sin at Court Sir? + Our breeding is obedience, but to good things, + To vertuous and to fair: what wou'd you win on us? + Why do I ask that question, when I have found ye? + Your Preamble has pour'd your heart out to us; + You would dishonour us; which in your translation + Here at the Court reads thus, your grace would love us, + Most dearly love us: stick us up for mistresses: + Most certain, there are thousands of our sex Sir + That would be glad of this, and handsom women, + And crowd into this favour, fair young women, + Excellent beauties Sir: when ye have enjoy'd 'em, + And suckt those sweets they have, what Saints are these then? + What worship have they won? what name you ghess Sir, + What storie added to their time, a sweet one? + + _Duke._ A brave spirited wench. + + _Hon._ I'le tell your grace, + And tell ye true: ye are deceiv'd in us two, + Extreamly cozen'd Sir: And yet in my eye + You are the handsomst man I ever lookt on, + The goodliest Gentleman; take that hope with ye; + And were I fit to be your wife (so much I honour ye) + Trust me I would scratch for ye but I would have ye. + I would wooe you then. + + _Duke._ She amazes me: + But how am I deceiv'd? + + _Hon._ O we are too honest, + Believe it Sir, too honest, far too honest, + The way that you propound too ignorant, + And there is no medling with us; for we are fools too, + Obstinate, peevish fools: if I would be ill, + And had a wantons itch, to kick my heels up, + I would not leap into th' Sun, and doe't there, + That all the world might see me: an obscure shade Sir, + Dark as the deed, there is no trusting light with it, + Nor that that's lighter far, vain-glorious greatness. + + _Duke._ You will love me as your friend? + + _Ho[n]._ I will honour ye, + As your poor humble handmaid serve, and pray for ye. + + _Du._ What sayes my little one; you are not so obstinate? + Lord how she blushes: here are truly fair souls: + Come you will be my love? + + _Viol._ Good Sir be good to me, + Indeed I'le doe the best I can to please ye; + I do beseech your grace: Alas I fear ye. + + _Duke._ What shouldst thou fear? + + _Hon._ Fie Sir, this is not noble. + + _Duke._ Why do I stand entreating, where my power-- + + _Hon._ You have no power, at least you ought to have none + In bad and beastly things: arm'd thus, I'le dye here, + Before she suffer wrong. + + _Duke._ Another _Archas_? + + _Hon._ His child Sir, and his spirit. + + _Duke._ I'le deal with you then, + For here's the honour to be won: sit down sweet, + Prethee _Honora_ sit. + + _Hon._ Now ye intreat I will Sir. + + _Duke._ I doe, and will deserve it. + + _Hon._ That's too much kindness. + + _Duke._ Prethee look on me. + + _Hon._ Yes: I love to see ye, + And could look on an age thus, and admire ye: + Whilst ye are good and temperate I dare touch ye, + Kiss your white hand. + + _Duke._ Why not my lips? + + _Hon._ I dare Sir. + + _Duke._ I do not think ye dare. + + _Hon._ I am no coward. + D[o] you believe me now? or now? or now Sir? + You make me blush: but sure I mean no ill Sir: + It had been fitter you had kiss'd me. + + _Du._ That I'le doe too. + What hast thou wrought into me? + + _Hon._ I hope all goodness: + Whilst ye are thus, thus honest, I dare do any thing, + Thus hang about your neck, and thus doat on ye; + Bless those fair lights: hell take me if I durst not-- + But good Sir pardon me. Sister come hither, + Come hither, fear not wench: come hither, blush not, + Come kiss the Prince, the vertuous Prince, the good Prince: + Certain he is excellent honest. + + _Du._ Thou wilt make me-- + + _Hon._ Sit down, and hug him softly. + + _Du._ Fie _Honora_, + Wanton _Honora_; is this the modesty, + The noble chastity your on-set shew'd me, + At first charge beaten back? Away. + + _Hon._ Thank ye: + Upon my knees I pray, heaven too may thank ye; + Ye have deceiv'd me cunningly, yet nobly + Ye have cozen'd me: In all your hopefull life yet, + A Scene of greater honour you ne're acted: + I knew fame was a lyar, too long, and loud tongu'd, + And now I have found it: O my vertuous Master. + + _Viol._ My vertuous Master too. + + _Hon._ Now you are thus, + What shall become of me let fortune cast for't. + + _Enter_ Alinda. + + _Du._ I'le be that fortune, if I live _Honora_, + Thou hast done a cure upon me, counsel could not. + + _Al._ Here take your ring Sir, and whom ye mean to ruine, + Give it to her next; I have paid for't dearly. + + _Hon._ A Ring to her? + + _Du._ Why frowns my fair _Alinda_? + I have forgot both these again. + + _Al._ Stand still Sir, + Ye have that violent killing fire upon ye, + Consumes all honour, credit, faith. + + _Hon._ How's this? + + _Al._ My Royal Mistris favour towards me, + Woe-worth ye Sir, ye have poyson'd, blasted. + + _Duke._ I sweet? + + _Al._ You have taken that unmanly liberty, + Which in a worse man, is vain glorious feigning, + And kill'd my truth. + + _Du._ Upon my life 'tis false wench. + + _Al._ Ladies, + Take heed, ye have a cunning gamester, + A handsom, and a high; come stor'd with Antidotes, + He has infections else will fire your blouds. + + _Du._ Prethee _Alinda_ hear me. + + _Al._ Words steept in hony, + That will so melt into your minds, buy Chastity, + A thousand wayes, a thousand knots to tie ye; + And when he has bound ye his, a thousand ruines. + A poor lost woman ye have made me. + + _Du._ I'le maintain thee, + And nobly too. + + _Al._ That Gin's too weak to take me: + Take heed, take heed young Ladies: still take heed, + Take heed of promises, take heed of gifts, + Of forced feigned sorrows, sighs, take heed. + + _Du._ By all that's mine, _Alinda_-- + + _Al._ Swear + By your mischiefs: + O whither shall I goe? + + _Duke._ Go back again, + I'le force her take thee, love thee. + + _Alin._ Fare ye well, Sir, + I will not curse ye; only this dwell with ye, + When ever ye love, a false belief light on ye. [_Exit._ + + _Hon._ We'll take our leaves too, Sir. + + _Duke._ Part all the world now, + Since she is gone. + + _Hon._ You are crooked yet, dear Master, + And still I fear-- [_Exeunt._ + + _Duke._ I am vext, + And some shall find it. [_Exit._ + + +SCENE IV. + + _Enter_ Archas _and a Servant_. + + _Ar._ 'Tis strange + To me to see the Court, and welcome: + O Royal place, how have I lov'd and serv'd thee? + Who lies on this side, know'st thou? + + _Ser._ The Lord _Burris_. + + _Ar._ Thou hast nam'd a Gentleman + I stand much bound to: + I think he sent the Casket, Sir? + + _Ser._ The same, Sir. + + _Ar._ An honest minded man, a noble Courtier: + The Duke made perfect choice when he took him. + Go you home, I shall hit the way + Without a guide now. + + _Ser._ You may want something, Sir. + + _Ar._ Only my Horses, + Which after Supper let the Groom wait with: + I'le have no more attendance here. + + _Ser._ Your will, Sir. [_Exit._ + + _Enter_ Theodore. + + _Theo._ You are well met here, Sir. + + _Ar._ How now boy, + How dost thou? + + _The._ I should ask + You that question: how do you, Sir? + How do you feel your self? + + _Ar._ Why well, and lusty. + + _The._ What do you here then? + + _Ar._ Why I am sent for + To Supper with the Duke. + + _The._ Have you no meat at home? + Or do you long to feed as hunted Deer do, + In doubt and fear? + + _Ar._ I have an excellent stomach, + And can I use it better + Than among my friends, Boy? + How do the Wenches? + + _The._ They do well enough, Sir, + They know the worst by this time: pray be rul'd, Sir, + Go home again, and if ye have a Supper, + Eat it in quiet there: this is no place for ye, + Especially at this time, + Take my word for't. + + _Ar._ May be they'll drink hard; + I could have drunk my share, Boy. + Though I am old, I will not out. + + _The._ I hope you will. + Hark in your ear: the Court's + Too quick of hearing. + + _Ar._ Not mean me well? + Thou art abus'd and cozen'd. + Away, away. + + _The._ To that end Sir, I tell ye. + Away, if you love your self. + + _Ar._ Who dare do these things, + That ever heard of honesty? + + _The._ Old Gentleman, + Take a fools counsel. + + _Ar._ 'Tis a fools indeed; + A very fools: thou hast more of + These flams in thee, these musty doubts: + Is't fit the Duke send for me, + And honour me to eat within his presence, + And I, like a tale fellow, play at bo-peep + With his pleasure? + + _The._ Take heed + Of bo-peep with your pate, your pate, Sir, + I speak plain language now. + + _Ar._ If 'twere not here, + Where reverence bids me hold, + I would so swinge thee, thou rude, + Unmanner'd Knave; take from his bounty, + His honour that he gives me, to beget + Sawcy, and sullen fears? + + _The._ You are not mad sure: + By this fair light, I speak + But what is whisper'd, + And whisper'd for a truth. + + _Ar._ A Dog: drunken people, + That in their Pot see visions, + And turn states, mad-men and Children: + Prethee do not follow me; + I tell thee I am angry: + Do not follow me. + + _The._ I am as angry + As you for your heart, + I and as wilful too: go, like a Wood-cock, + And thrust your neck i'th' noose. + + _Ar._ I'le kill thee, + And thou speakst but three words more. + Do not follow me. [_Exit._ + + _The._ A strange old foolish fellow: I shall hear yet, + And if I do not my part, hiss at me. [_Exit._ + + +SCENE V. + + _Enter two Servants preparing a Banquet._ + + _1 Serv._ Believe me fellow here will be lusty drinking. + Many a washt pate in Wine I warrant thee. + + _2 Ser._ I am glad the old General's come: upon my Conscience + That joy will make half the Court drunk. Hark the Trumpets, + They are coming on; away. + + _1 Ser._ We'll have a rowse too. [_Exeunt._ + + _Enter Duke_, Archas, Burris, Boroskie, _Attend. Gent._ + + _Duke._ Come seat your selves: Lord _Archas_ sit you there. + + _Ar._ 'Tis far above my worth. + + _Duke._ I'le have it so: + Are all things ready? + + _Bor._ All the Guards are set, + The Court Gates are shut. + + _Duke._ Then do as I prescrib'd ye. + Be sure no further. + + _Bor._ I shall well observe ye. + + _Du._ Come bring some wine: here's to my Sister, Gentlemen; + A health, and mirth to all. + + _Ar._ Pray fill it full, Sir. + 'Tis a high health to vertue: here Lord _Burris_, + A maiden health: you are most fit to pledge it, + You have a maiden soul and much I honour it. + Passion o' me, ye are sad man. + + _Duke._ How now, _Burris_? + Go to, no more of this. + + _Ar._ Take the rowse freely, + 'Twill warm your bloud, and make ye fit for jollity. + Your Graces pardon: when we get a cup, Sir, + We old men prate a pace. + + _Du._ Mirth makes a Banquet; + As you love me no more. + + _Bur._ I thank your Grace. + Give me it; Lord _Boroskie_. + + _Boros._ I have ill brains, Sir. + + _Bur._ Damnable ill, I know it. + + _Boros._ But I'le pledge, Sir, + This vertuous health. + + _Bur._ The more unfit for thy mouth. + + _Enter two Servants with Cloaks._ + + _Du._ Come, bring out Robes, and let my guests look nobly, + Fit for my love and presence: begin downward. + Off with your Cloaks, take new. + + _Ar._ Your grace deals truly, + Like a munificent Prince, with your poor subjects, + Who would not fight for you? what cold dull coward + Durst seek to save his life when you would ask it? + Begin a new health in your new adornments, + The Dukes, the Royal Dukes: ha! what have I got + Sir? ha! the Robe of death? + + _Du._ You have deserv'd it. + + _Ar._ The Livery of the Grave? do you start all from me? + Do I smell of earth already? Sir, look on me, + And like a man; is this your entertainment? + Do you bid your worthiest guests to bloudy Banquets? + + _Enter a Guard._ + + A Guard upon me too? this is too foul play + Boy to thy good, thine honour: thou wretched Ruler, + Thou Son of fools and flatterers, Heir of hypocrites, + Am I serv'd in a Hearse that sav'd ye all? + Are ye men or Devils? Do ye gape upon me, + Wider, and swallow all my services? + Entomb them first, my faith next, then my integrity, + And let these struggle with your mangy minds, + Your sear'd, and seal'd up Consciences, till they burst. + + _Boros._ These words are death. + + _Ar._ No those deeds that want rewards, Sirrah, + Those Battels I have fought, those horrid dangers, + Leaner than death, and wilder than destruction, + I have march'd upon, these honour'd wounds, times story, + The bloud I have lost, the youth, the sorrows suffer'd, + These are my death, these that can ne're be recompenced, + These that ye sit a brooding on like Toads, + Sucking from my deserts the sweets and favours, + And render me no pay again but poysons. + + _Bor._ The proud vain Souldier thou hast set-- + + _Ar._ Thou lyest. + Now by my little time of life lyest basely, + Malitiously and loudly: how I scorn thee! + If I had swel'd the Souldier, or intended + An act in person, leaning to dishonour, + As ye would fain have forced me, witness Heaven, + Where clearest understanding of all truth is, + (For these are spightful men, and know no piety) + When _Olin_ came, grim _Olin_, when his marches, + His last Incursions made the City sweat, + And drove before him, as a storm drives Hail, + Such showrs of frosted fears, shook all your heart-strings; + Then when the _Volga_ trembled at his terrour, + And hid his seven curl'd heads, afraid of bruising, + By his arm'd Horses hoofs; had I been false then, + Or blown a treacherous fire into the Souldier, + Had but one spark of villany liv'd within me, + Ye'ad had some shadow for this black about me. + Where was your Souldiership? why went not you out? + And all your right honourable valour with ye? + Why met ye not the _Tartar_, and defi'd him? + Drew your dead-doing sword, and buckl'd with him? + Shot through his Squadrons like a fiery Meteor? + And as we see a dreadful clap of Thunder + Rend the stiffhearted Oaks, and toss their roots up: + Why did not you so charge him? you were sick then, + You that dare taint my credit slipt to bed then, + Stewing and fainting with the fears ye had, + A whorson shaking fit opprest your Lordship: + Blush Coward, Knave, and all the world hiss at thee. + + _Du._ Exceed not my command. [_Exit._ + + _Bor._ I shall observe it. + + _Ar._ Are you gone too? Come weep not honest _Burris_, + Good loving Lord, no more tears: 'tis not his malice, + This fellows malice, nor the Dukes displeasure, + By bold bad men crowded into his nature, + Can startle me: fortune ne're raz'd this Fort yet: + I am the same, the same man, living, dying; + The same mind to 'em both, I poize thus equal; + Only the jugling way that toll'd me to it, + The _Judas_ way, to kiss me, bid me welcome, + And cut my throat, a little sticks upon me. + Farewel, commend me to his Grace, and tell him, + The world is full of servants, he may have many: + And some I wish him honest: he's undone else: + But such another doating _Archas_ never, + So try'd and touch'd a faith: farewell for ever. + + _Bur._ Be strong my Lord: you must not go thus lightly. + + _Ar._ Now, what's to do? what sayes the Law unto me? + Give me my great offence that speaks me guil[t]y. + + _Bor._ Laying aside a thousand petty matters, + As scorns, and insolencies both from your self and followers, + Which you put first fire to, and these are deadly, + I come to one main cause, which though it carries + A strangeness in the circumstance, it carries death too, + Not to be pardon'd neither: ye have done a sacriledge. + + _Ar._ High Heaven defend me man: how, how _Boroskie_? + + _Bor._ Ye have took from the Temple those vow'd Arms, + The holy Ornament you hung up there, + No absolution of your vow, no order + From holy Church to give 'em back unto you + After they were purified from War, and rested + From bloud, made clean by ceremony: from the Altar + You snatch'd 'em up again, again ye wore 'em, + Again you stain'd 'em, stain'd your vow, the Church too, + And rob'd it of that right was none of yours, Sir, + For which the Law requires your head, ye know it. + + _Ar._ Those arms I fought in last? + + _Bor._ The same. + + _Ar._ God a mercy, + Thou hast hunted out a notable cause to kill me: + A subtle one: I dye, for saving all you; + Good Sir, remember if you can, the necessity, + The suddenness of time, the state all stood in; + I was entreated to, kneel'd to, and pray'd to, + The Duke himself, the Princes, all the Nobles, + The cries of Infants, Bed-rid Fathers, Virgins; + Prethee find out a better cause, a handsomer, + This will undo thee too: people will spit at thee, + The Devil himself would be asham'd of this cause; + Because my haste made me forget the ceremony, + The present danger every where, must my life satisfie? + + _Bor._ It must, and shall. + + _Ar._ O base ungrateful people, + Have ye no other Swords to cut my throat with + But mine own nobleness? I confess, I took 'em, + The vow not yet absolv'd I hung 'em up with: + Wore 'em, fought in 'em, gilded 'em again + In the fierce _Tartars_ blouds; for you I took 'em, + For your peculiar safety, Lord, for all, + I wore 'em for my Countries health, that groan'd then: + Took from the Temple, to preserve the Temple; + That holy place, and all the sacred monuments, + The reverent shrines of Saints, ador'd and honour'd, + Had been consum'd to ashes, their own sacrifice; + Had I been slack, or staid that absolution, + No Priest had liv'd to give it; my own honour, + Cure of my Country murder me? + + _Bor._ No, no Sir, + I shall force that from ye, will make this cause light too, + Away with him: I shall pluck down that heart, Sir. + + _Ar._ Break it thou mayest; but if it bend, for pity, + Doggs, and Kites eat it: come I am honours Martyr. [_Ex._ + + +SCENE VI. + + _Enter Duke, and_ Burris. + + _Du._ Exceed my Warrant? + + _Bur._ You know he loves him not. + + _Du._ He dares as well eat death, as do it, eat wild-fire, + Through a few fears I mean to try his goodness, + That I may find him fit, to wear here, _Burris_; + I know Boroskie hates him, to death hates him, + I know he's a Serpent too, a swoln one, [_Noise within._ + But I have pull'd his sting out: what noise is that? + + _The. within._ Down with 'em, down with 'em, down with the gates. + + _Sold. within._ Stand, stand, stand. + + _Puts. within._ Fire the Palace before ye. + + _Bur._ Upon my life the Souldier, Sir, the Souldier, + A miserable time is come. + + _Enter Gentleman._ + + _Gent._ Oh save him, + Upon my knees, my hearts knees, save Lord _Archas_, + We are undone else. + + _Du._ Dares he touch his Body? + + _Gent._ He racks him fearfully, most fearfully. + + _Du._ Away _Burris_, + Take men, and take him from him; clap him up, + And if I live, I'll find a strange death for him. [_Ex._ Bur. + Are the Souldiers broke in? + + _Gent._ By this time sure they are, Sir, + They beat the Gates extreamly, beat the people. + + _Du._ Get me a guard about me; make sure the lodgings, + And speak the Souldiers fair. + + _Gent._ Pray Heaven that take, Sir. [_Exeunt._ + + _Enter_ Putskie, _Ancient, Souldiers, with Torches_. + + _Puts._ Give us the General, we'll fire the Court else, + Render him safe and well. + + _Anc._ Do not fire the Cellar, + There's excellent Wine in't, Captain, and though it be cold weather, + I do not love it mull'd; bring out the General, + We'll light ye such a Bone-fire else: where are ye? + Speak, or we'll toss your Turrets, peep out of your Hives, + We'll smoak ye else: Is not that a Nose there? + Put out that Nose again, and if thou dar'st + But blow it before us: now he creeps out on's Burrough. + + _Enter Gentleman._ + + _Puts._ Give us the General. + + _Gent._ Yes, Gentlemen; + Or any thing ye can desire. + + _Anc._ You musk-cat, + Cordevant-skin we will not take your answer. + + _Puts._ Where is the Duke? speak suddenly, and send him hither. + + _Anc._ Or we'll so frye your Buttocks. + + _Gent._ Good sweet Gentlemen-- + + _Anc._ We are neither good nor sweet, we are Souldiers, + And you miscreants that abuse the General. + Give fire my Boys, 'tis a dark Evening, + Let's light 'em to their lodgings. + + _Enter_ Olympia, Honora, Viola, Theodore, _Women_. + + _Hon._ Good Brother be not fierce. + + _The._ I will not hurt her, + Fear not sweet Lady. + + _Olym._ Nay, do what you please, Sir, + I have a sorrow that exceeds all yours, + And more, contemns all danger. + + _Enter Duke, above._ + + _The._ Where is the Duke? + + _Du._ He's here; what would ye Souldiers? wherefore troop ye + Like mutinous mad-men thus? + + _The._ Give me my Father. + + _Puts. Anc._ Give us our General. + + _The._ Set him here before us, + Ye see the pledge we have got; ye see the Torches; + All shall to ashes, as I live, immediately, + A thousand lives for one. + + _Du._ But hear me? + + _Puts._ No, we come not to dispute. + + _Enter_ Archas, _and_ Burris. + + _The._ By Heaven I swear he's rackt and whipt. + + _Hon._ Oh my poor Father! + + _Puts._ Burn, kill and burn. + + _Arc._ Hold, hold, I say: hold Souldiers, + On your allegiance hold. + + _The._ We must not. + + _Arc._ Hold: + I swear by Heaven he is a barbarous Traitor stirs first, + A Villain, and a stranger to Obedience, + Never my Souldier more, nor Friend to Honour: + Why did you use your old Man thus? thus cruelly + Torture his poor weak Body? I ever lov'd ye. + + _Du._ Forget me in these wrongs, most noble _Archas_. + + _Arc._ I have balm enough for all my hurts: weep no more Sir + A satisfaction for a thousand sorrows; + I do believe you innocent, a good man, + And Heaven forgive that naughty thing that wrong'd me: + Why look ye wild, my friends? why stare ye on me? + I charge ye, as ye are men, my men, my lovers, + As ye are honest faithful men, fair Souldiers, + Let down your anger: Is not this our Soveraign? + The head of mercy, and of Law? who dares then, + But Rebels, scorning Law, appear thus violent? + Is this a place for Swords? for threatning fires? + The Reverence of this House dares any touch, + But with obedient knees, and pious duties? + Are we not all his Subjects? all sworn to him? + Has not he power to punish our offences? + And do we not daily fall into 'em? assure your selves + I did offend, and highly, grievously, + This good, sweet Prince I offended, my life forfeited, + Which yet his mercy and his old love met with, + And only let me feel his light rod this way: + Ye are to thank him for your General, + Pray for his life and fortune; swear your bloods for him. + Ye are offenders too, daily offenders, + Proud insolencies dwell in your hearts, and ye do 'em, + Do 'em against his Peace, his Law, his Person; + Ye see he only sorrows for your sins, + And where his power might persecute, forgives ye: + For shame put up your Swords, for honesty, + For orders sake, and whose ye are, my Souldiers, + Be not so rude. + + _The._ They have drawn blood from you, Sir. + + _Arc._ That was the blood rebell'd, the naughty blood, + The proud provoking blood; 'tis well 'tis out, Boy; + Give you example first; draw out, and orderly. + + _Hon._ Good Brother, do. + + _Arc._ Honest and high example, + As thou wilt have my Blessing follow thee, + Inherit all mine honours: thank ye _Theodore_, + My worthy Son. + + _The._ If harm come, thank your self, Sir, + I must obey ye. [_Exit._ + + _Arc._ Captain, you know the way now: + A good man, and a valiant, you were ever, + Inclin'd to honest things; I thank ye, Captain. [_Ex. Soul._ + Souldiers, I thank ye all: and love me still, + But do not love me so you lose Allegiance, + Love that above your lives: once more I thank ye. + + _Du._ Bring him to rest, and let our cares wait on him; + Thou excellent old man, thou top of honour, + Where Justice, and Obedience only build, + Thou stock of Vertue, how am I bound to love thee! + In all thy noble ways to follow thee! + + _Bur._ Remember him that vext him, Sir. + + _Du._ Remember? + When I forget that Villain, and to pay him + For all his mischiefs, may all good thoughts forget me. + + _Arc._ I am very sore. + + _Du._ Bring him to Bed with ease, Gentlemen, + For every stripe I'll drop a tear to wash 'em, + And in my sad Repentance-- + + _Arc._ 'Tis too much, + I have a life yet left to gain that love, Sir. [_Exeunt._ + + + + +_Actus Quintus. Scena Prima._ + + + _Enter Duke_, Burris, _and Gentlemen_. + + _Duke._ How does Lord _Archas_? + + _Bur._ But weak, and't please ye; + Yet all the helps that art can, are applied to him; + His heart's untoucht, and whole yet; and no doubt, Sir, + His mind being sound, his body soon will follow. + + _Du._ O that base Knave that wrong'd him, without leave too; + But I shall find an hour to give him thanks for't; + He's fast, I hope. + + _Bur._ As fast as irons can keep him: + But the most fearful Wretch-- + + _Du._ He has a Conscience, + A cruel stinging one I warrant him, + A loaden one: But what news of the Souldier? + I did not like their parting, 'twas too sullen. + + _Bur._ That they keep still, and I fear a worse clap; + They are drawn out of the Town, and stand in counsels, + Hatching unquiet thoughts, and cruel purposes: + I went my self unto 'em, talkt with the Captains, + Whom I found fraught with nothing but loud murmurs, + And desperate curses, sounding these words often + Like Trumpets to their angers: we are ruin'd, + Our services turn'd to disgraces, mischiefs; + Our brave old General, like one had pilfer'd, + Tortur'd, and whipt: the Colonels eyes, like torches, + Blaze every where and fright fair peace. + + _Gent._ Yet worse, Sir; + The news is currant now, they mean to leave ye, + Leave their Allegiance; and under _Olins_ Charge + The bloody Enemy march straight against ye. + + _Bur._ I have heard this too, Sir. + + _Du._ This must be prevented, + And suddenly, and warily. + + _Bur._ 'Tis time, Sir, + But what to minister, or how? + + _Du._ Go in with me, + And there we'll think upon't: such blows as these, + Equal defences ask, else they displease. [_Exeunt._ + + +SCENE II. + + _Enter_ Petesca, _and Gentlewoman_. + + _Pet._ Lord, what a coil has here been with these Souldiers! + They are cruel fellows. + + _Wom._ And yet methought we found 'em + Handsome enough; I'll tell thee true, _Petesca_, + I lookt for other manner of dealings from 'em, + And had prepar'd my self; but where's my Lady? + + _Pet._ In her old dumps within: monstrous melancholy; + Sure she was mad of this Wench. + + _Wom._ And she had been a man, + She would have been a great deal madder, I am glad she is shifted. + + _Pet._ 'Twas a wicked thing for me to betray her, + And yet I must confess she stood in our lights. + + _Enter_ Alinda. + + What young thing's this? + + _Alin._ Good morrow beauteous Gentlewomen: + 'Pray ye is the Princess stirring yet? + + _Wom._ He has her face. + + _Pet._ Her very tongue, and tone too: her youth upon him. + + _Alin._ I guess ye to be the Princess Women. + + _Pet._ Yes, we are, Sir. + + _Alin._ Pray is there not a Gentlewoman waiting on her Grace, + Ye call _Alinda_? + + _Pet._ The Devil sure in her shape. + + _Wom._ I have heard her tell my Lady of a Brother, + An only Brother that she had: in travel-- + + _Pet._ 'Mass, I remember that: this may be he too: + I would this thing would serve her. + + _Enter_ Olympia. + + _Wom._ So would I Wench, + We should love him better sure: Sir, here's the Princess, + She best can satisfie ye. + + _Alin._ How I love that presence! + O blessed Eyes, how nobly shine your comforts! + + _Olym._ What Gentleman is that? + + _Wom._ We know not, Madam: + He ask'd us for your Grace: and as we guess it, + He is _Alinda_'s Brother. + + _Olym._ Ha! let me mark him: + My grief has almost blinded me: her Brother? + By _Venus_, he has all her sweetness upon him: + Two silver drops of dew were never liker. + + _Alin._ Gracious Lady-- + + _Olym._ That pleasant pipe he has too. + + _Alin._ Being my happiness to pass by this way, + And having as I understand by Letters, + A Sister in your vertuous service, Madam-- + + _Olym._ O now my heart, my heart akes. + + _Alin._ All the comfort + My poor youth has, all that my hopes have built me, + I thought it my first duty, my best service, + Here to arrive first, humbly to thank your Grace + For my poor Sister, humbly to thank your Nobleness, + That bounteous Goodness in ye. + + _Olym._ 'Tis he certainly. + + _Alin._ That spring of favour to her; with my life, Madam, + If any such most happy means might meet me, + To shew my thankfulness. + + _Olym._ What have I done, Fool! + + _Alin._ She came a stranger to your Grace, no Courtier; + Nor of that curious breed befits your service, + Yet one I dare assure my Soul, that lov'd ye + Before she saw ye; doted on your Vertues; + Before she knew those fair eyes, long'd to read 'em, + You only had her prayers, you her wishes; + And that one hope to be yours once, preserv'd her. + + _Olym._ I have done wickedly. + + _Alin._ A little Beauty, + Such as a Cottage breeds, she brought along with her; + And yet our Country-eyes esteem'd it much too: + But for her beauteous mind, forget great Lady, + I am her Brother, and let me speak a stranger, + Since she was able to beget a thought, 'twas honest. + The daily study how to fit your services, + Truly to tread that vertuous path you walk in, + So fir'd her honest Soul, we thought her Sainted; + I presume she is still the same: I would fain see her, + For Madam, 'tis no little love I owe her. + + _Olym._ Sir, such a maid there was, I had-- + + _Alin._ There was, Madam? + + _Olym._ O my poor Wench: eyes, I will ever curse ye + For your Credulity, _Alinda_. + + _Alin._ That's her name, Madam. + + _Olym._ Give me a little leave, Sir, to lament her. + + _Alin._ Is she dead, Lady? + + _Olym._ Dead, Sir, to my service. + She is gone, pray ye ask no further. + + _Alin._ I obey Madam: + Gone? now must I lament too: said ye gone Madam? + + _Olym._ Gone, gone for ever. + + _Alin._ That's a cruel saying: + Her honour too? + + _Olym._ Prithee look angry on me, + And if thou ever lovedst her, spit upon me; + Do something like a Brother, like a friend, + And do not only say thou lov'st her-- + + _Al._ Ye amaze me. + + _Oly._ I ruin'd her, I wrong'd her, I abus'd her; + Poor innocent soul, I flung her; sweet _Alinda_, + Thou vertuous maid, my soul now calls thee vertuous. + Why do ye not rail now at me? + + _Al._ For what Lady? + + _Oly._ Call me base treacherous woman. + + _Al._ Heaven defend me. + + _Oly._ Rashly I thought her false, and put her from me, + Rashly, and madly I betrai'd her modesty, + Put her to wander, heaven knows where: nay, more Sir, + Stuck a black brand upon her. + + _Al._ 'Twas not well Lady. + + _Oly._ 'Twas damnable: she loving me so dearly, + Never poor wench lov'd so: Sir believe me, + 'Twas the most dutious wench, the best companion, + When I was pleas'd, the happiest, and the gladdest, + The modestest sweet nature dwelt within her: + I saw all this, I knew all this, I lov'd it, + I doated on it too, and yet I kill'd it: + O what have I forsaken? what have I lost? + + _Al._ Madam, I'le take my leave, since she is wandring, + 'Tis fit I know no rest. + + _Oly._ Will you go too Sir? + I have not wrong'd you yet, if you dare trust me, + For yet I love _Alinda_ there, I honour her, + I love to look upon those eyes that speak her, + To read that face again, (modesty keep me,) + _Alinda_, in that shape: but why should you trust me, + 'Twas I betray'd your Sister, I undid her; + And believe me, gentle youth, 'tis I weep for her: + Appoint what penance you please: but stay then, + And see me perform it: ask what honour this place + Is able to heap on ye, or what wealth: + If following me will like ye, my care of ye, + Which for your sisters sake, for your own goodness-- + + _Al._ Not all the honour earth has, now she's gone Lady, + Not all the favour; yet if I sought preferment, + Under your bounteous Grace I would only take it. + Peace rest upon ye: one sad tear every day + For poor _Alindas_. sake, 'tis fit ye pay. [_Exit._ + + _Oly._ A thousand noble youth, and when I sleep, + Even in my silver slumbers still I'le weep. [_Exit._ + + +SCENA III. + + _Enter_ Duke, _and Gentlemen_. + + _Duke._ Have ye been with 'em? + + _Gent._ Yes, and't please your Grace, + But no perswasion serves 'em, nor no promise, + They are fearfull angry, and by this time Sir, + Upon their march to the Enemy. + + _Du._ They must be stopt. + + _Enter_ Burris. + + _Gent._ I, but what force is able? and what leader-- + + _Du._ How now, have you been with _Archas_? + + _Bur._ Yes, and't please ye, + And told him all: he frets like a chaf'd Lyon, + And calls for his Arms: and all those honest Courtiers + That dare draw Swords. + + _Du._ Is he able to do any thing? + + _Bur._ His mind is well enough; and where his charge is, + Let him be ne're so sore, 'tis a full Army. + + _Du._ Who commands the Rebels? + + _Bur._ The young Colonel, + That makes the old man almost mad: he swears Sir, + He will not spare his Sons head for the Dukedom. + + _Du._ Is the Court in Arms? + + _Bur._ As fast as they can bustle, + Every man mad to goe now: inspir'd strangely, + As if they were to force the Enemy, + I beseech your Grace to give me leave. + + _Du._ Pray go Sir, + And look to the old man well; take up all fairly, + And let no bloud be spilt; take general pardons, + And quench this fury with fair peace. + + _Bur._ I shall Sir, + Or seal it with my service; they are villains: + The Court is up: good Sir, go strengthen 'em, + Your Royal sight will make 'em scorn all dangers; + The General needs no proof. + + _Duke._ Come let's go view 'em. [_Exeunt._ + + +SCENA IV. + + _Enter_ Theodore, Putskie, _Ancient_, _Souldiers_, _Drums_, + _and Colours_. + + _The._ 'Tis known we are up, and marching: no submission, + No promise of base peace can cure our maladies, + We have suffer'd beyond all repair of honour: + Your valiant old man's whipt; whipt Gentlemen, + Whipt like a slave: that flesh that never trembled, + Nor shrunk one sinew at a thousand charges, + That noble body rib'd in arms, the Enemy + So often shook at, and then shun'd like thunder, + That body's torn with lashes. + + _Anc._ Let's turn head. + + _Put._ Turn nothing Gentlemen, let's march on fairly, + Unless they charge us. + + _The._ Think still of his abuses, + And keep your angers. + + _Anc._ He was whipt like a top, + I never saw a whore so lac'd: Court school-butter? + Is this their diet? I'le dress 'em one running banquet: + What Oracle can alter us? did not we see him? + See him we lov'd? + + _The._ And though we did obey him, + Forc'd by his reverence for that time; is't fit Gentlemen? + My noble friends, is't fit we men, and Souldiers, + Live to endure this, and look on too? + + _Put._ Forward: + They may call back the Sun as soon, stay time, + Prescribe a Law to death, as we endure this. + + _The._ They will make ye all fair promises. + + _Anc._ We care not. + + _The._ Use all their arts upon ye. + + _Anc._ Hang all their arts. + + _Put._ And happily they'l bring him with 'em. + + _Anc._ March apace then, + He is old and cannot overtake us. + + _Put._ Say he doe. + + _Anc._ We'l run away with him: they shall never see him more: + The truth is, we'l hear nothing, stop at nothing, + Consider nothing but our way; believe nothing, + Not though they say their prayers: be content with nothing, + But the knocking out their brains: and last, do nothing + But ban 'em and curse 'em, till we come to kill 'em. + + _The._ Remove then forwards bravely; keep your minds whole, + And the next time we face 'em, shall be fatal. [_Exeunt._ + + +SCENA V. + + _Enter_ Archas, _Duke,_ Burris, _Gent_, _and Sould_. + + _Ar._ Peace to your Grace; take rest Sir, they are before us. + + _Gent._ They are Sir, and upon the march. [_Exit_ Duke. + + _Ar._ Lord _Burris_, + Take you those horse and coast 'em: upon the first advantage, + If they will not slake their march, charge 'em up roundly, + By that time I'le come in. + + _Bur._ I'le do it truly. [_Exit._ + + _Gent._ How do you feel your self Sir? + + _Ar._ Well, I thank ye; + A little weak, but anger shall supply that; + You will all stand bravely to it? + + _All._ Whilst we have lives Sir. + + _Ar._ Ye speak like Gentlemen; I'le make the knaves know, + The proudest, and the strongest hearted Rebel, + They have a law to live in, and they shall have; + Beat up a pace, by this time he is upon 'em, [_Drum within._ + And sword, but hold me now, thou shalt play ever. [_Exeunt._ + + _Enter Drums beating_, Theodore, Putskie, _Ancient_, + _and their Souldiers._ + + _The._ Stand, stand, stand close, and sure; + + _Enter_ Burris, _and 1 or 2 Souldiers_. + + The horse will charge us. + + _Anc._ Let 'em come on, we have provender fit for 'em. + + _Put._ Here comes Lord _Burris_ Sir, I think to parly. + + _The._ You are welcom noble Sir, I hope to our part. + + _Bur._ No, valiant Colonel, I am come to chide ye, + To pity ye; to kill ye, if these fail me; + Fie, what dishonour seek ye! what black infamy! + Why do ye draw out thus? draw all shame with ye? + Are these fit cares in subjects? I command ye + Lay down your arms again, move in that peace, + That fair obedience you were bred in. + + _Put._ Charge us: + We come not here to argue. + + _The._ Charge up bravely, + And hotly too, we have hot spleens to meet ye, + Hot as the shames are offer'd us. + + _Enter_ Archas, _Gent. and Souldiers_. + + _Bur._ Look behind ye. + Do you see that old man? do you know him Souldiers? + + _Put._ Your Father Sir, believe me-- + + _Bur._ You know his marches, + You have seen his executions: is it yet peace? + + _The._ We'l dye here first. + + _Bur._ Farewel: you'l hear on's presently. + + _Ar._ Stay _Burris_: this is too poor, too beggerly a body + To bear the honour of a charge from me, + A sort of tatter'd Rebels; go provide Gallowses; + Ye are troubled with hot heads, I'le cool ye presently: + These look like men that were my Souldiers + Now I behold 'em nearly, and more narrowly, + My honest friends: where got they these fair figures? + Where did they steal these shapes? + + _Bur._ They are struck already. + + _Ar._ Do you see that fellow there, that goodly Rebel? + He looks as like a Captain I lov'd tenderly: + A fellow of a faith indeed. + + _Bur._ He has sham'd him. + + _Ar._ And that that bears the Colours there, most certain + So like an Ancient of mine own, a brave fellow, + A loving and obedient, that believe me _Burris_, + I am amaz'd and troubled: and were it not + I know the general goodness of my people, + The duty, and the truth, the stedfast honestie, + And am assur'd they would as soon turn Devils + As rebels to allegeance, for mine honour. + + _Bur._ Here needs no wars. + + _Put._ I pray forgive us Sir. + + _Anc._ Good General forgive us, or use your sword, + Your words are double death. + + _All._ Good noble General. + + _Bur._ Pray Sir be mercifull. + + _Ar._ Weep out your shames first, + Ye make me fool for companie: fie Souldiers, + My Souldiers too, and play these tricks? what's he there? + Sure I have seen his face too; yes, most certain + I have a son, but I hope he is not here now, + 'Would much resemble this man, wondrous near him, + Just of his height and making too, you seem a Leader. + + _The._ Good Sir, do not shame me more: I know your anger, + And less than death I look not for. + + _Ar._ You shall be my charge Sir, it seems you want foes, + When you would make your friends your Enemies. + A running bloud ye have, but I shall cure ye. + + _Bur._ Good Sir-- + + _An._ No more good Lord: beat forward Souldiers: + And you, march in the rear, you have lost your places. [_Exeunt._ + + +SCENA VI. + + _Enter Duke_, Olympia, Honora, Viola. + + _Du._ You shall not be thus sullen still with me Sister, + You do the most unnobly to be angry, + For as I have a soul, I never touch'd her, + I never yet knew one unchast thought in her: + I must confess, I lov'd her: as who would not? + I must confess I doated on her strangely, + I offer'd all, yet so strong was her honour, + So fortifi'd as fair, no hope could reach her, + And whilst the world beheld this, and confirm'd it, + Why would you be so jealous? + + _Oly._ Good Sir pardon me, + I feel sufficiently my follies penance, + And am asham'd, that shame a thousand sorrows + Feed on continually, would I had never seen her, + Or with a clearer judgement look'd upon her, + She was too good for me, so heavenly good Sir, + Nothing but Heaven can love that soul sufficiently, + Where I shall see her once again. + + _Enter_ Burris. + + _Du._ No more tears, + If she be within the Dukedom, we'l recover her: + Welcom Lord _Burris_, fair news I hope. + + _Bur._ Most fair Sir, + Without one drop of bloud these wars are ended, + The Souldier cool'd again, indeed asham'd Sir, + And all his anger ended. + + _Du._ Where's Lord _Archas_? + + _Bur._ Not far off Sir: with him his valiant son, + Head of this fire, but now a prisoner, + And if by your sweet mercy not prevented, + I fear some fatal stroke. [_Drums._ + + _Enter_ Archas, Theodore, _Gentlemen_, _Souldiers_. + + _Du._ I hear the Drums beat, + Welcom, my worthy friend. + + _Ar._ Stand where ye are Sir, + Even as you love your country, move not forward, + Nor plead for peace till I have done a justice, + A justice on this villain; none of mine now, + A justice on this Rebel. + + _Hon._ O my Brother. + + _Ar._ This fatal firebrand-- + + _Du._ Forget not old man, + He is thy son, of thine own bloud. + + _Ar._ In these veins + No treacherie e're harbour'd yet, no mutinie, + I ne're gave life to lewd and headstrong Rebels. + + _Du._ 'Tis his first fault. + + _Ar._ Not of a thousand Sir, + Or were it so, it is a fault so mightie, + So strong against the nature of all mercy, + His Mother were she living, would not weep for him, + He dare not say he would live. + + _The._ I must not Sir, + Whilst you say 'tis not fit: your Graces mercy + Not to my life appli'd, but to my fault Sir, + The worlds forgiveness next, last, on my knees Sir, + I humbly beg, + Do not take from me yet the name of Father, + Strike me a thousand blows, but let me dye yours. + + _Ar._ He moves my heart: I must be suddain with him, + I shall grow faint else in my execution; + Come, come Sir, you have seen death; now meet him bravely. + + _Du._ Hold, hold I say, a little hold, consider + Thou hast no more sons _Archas_ to inherit thee. + + _Ar._ Yes Sir, I have another, and a nobler: + No treason shall inherit me: young _Archas_ + A boy, as sweet as young, my Brother breeds him, + My noble Brother _Briskie_ breeds him nobly, + Him let your favour find: give him your honour. + + _Enter_ Putskie (_alias_ Briskie) _and_ Alinda, + (_alias_ Archas.) + + _Pu._ Thou hast no child left _Archas_, none to inherit thee + If thou strikst that stroke now: behold young _Archas_; + Behold thy Brother here, thou bloudy Brother, + As bloody to this sacrifice as thou art: + Heave up thy sword, and mine's heav'd up: strike _Archas_, + And I'le strike too as suddenly, as deadly: + Have mercy, and I'le have mercy: the Duke gives it. + Look upon all these, how they weep it from thee, + Choose quickly, and begin. + + _Du._ On your obedience, + On your allegeance save him. + + _Ar._ Take him to ye, [_Soul. shout._ + And sirrah, be an honest man, ye have reason: + I thank ye worthy Brother: welcom child, + Mine own sweet child. + + _Du._ Why was this boy conceal'd thus? + + _Put._ Your graces pardon: + Fearing the vow you made against my Brother, + And that your anger would not only light + On him, but find out all his familie, + This young boy, to preserve from after danger, + Like a young wench, hither I brought; my self + In the habit of an ordinarie Captain + Disguis'd, got entertainment, and serv'd here + That I might still be ready to all fortunes: + That boy your Grace took, nobly entertain'd him, + But thought a Girle, _Alinda_, Madam. + + _Ol._ Stand away, + And let me look upon him. + + _Du._ My young Mistris? + This is a strange metamorphosis, _Alinda_? + + _Al._ Your graces humble servant. + + _Du._ Come hither Sister: + I dare yet scarce believe mine eyes: how they view one another? + Dost thou not love this boy well? + + _Oly._ I should lye else, + Trust me, extreamly lye Sir. + + _Du._ Didst thou never wish _Olympia_, + It might be thus? + + _Oly._ A thousand times. + + _Du._ Here take him: + Nay, do not blush: I do not jest; kiss sweetly: + Boy, ye kiss faintly boy; Heaven give ye comfort; + Teach him, he'l quickly learn: there's two hearts eas'd now. + + _Ar._ You do me too much honour Sir. + + _Du._ No _Archas_, + But all I can, I will; can you love me? speak truly. + + _Hon._ Yes Sir, dearly. + + _Du._ Come hither _Viola_, can you love this man? + + _Vio._ I'le do the best I can Sir. + + _Du._ Seal it _Burris_, + We'l all to Church together instantly: + And then a vie for boyes; stay, bring _Boroskie_. + + _Enter_ Boroskie. + + I had almost forgot that lump of mischief. + There _Archas_, take the enemie to honour, + The knave to worth: do with him what thou wilt. + + _Ar._ Then to my sword again; you to your prayers; + Wash off your villanies, you feel the burthen. + + _Bor._ Forgive me e're I die, most honest _Archas_; + 'Tis too much honour that I perish thus; + O strike my faults to kill them, that no memorie, + No black and blasted infamy hereafter---- + + _Ar._ Come, are ye ready? + + _Bor._ Yes. + + _Ar._ And truly penitent, to make your way straight? + + _Bor._ Thus I wash off my sins. + + _Ar._ Stand up, and live then, + And live an honest man; I scorn mens ruines: + Take him again, Sir, trie him: and believe + This thing will be a perfect man. + + _Du._ I take him. + + _Bor._ And when I fail those hopes, heavens hopes fail me. + + _Du._ You are old: no more wars Father: + _Theodore_ take you the charge, be General. + + _The._ All good bless ye. + + _Du._ And my good Father, you dwell in my bosom, + From you rise all my good thoughts: when I would think + And examine time for one that's fairly noble, + And the same man through all the streights of vertue, + Upon this Silver book I'le look, and read him. + Now forward merrily to _Hymens_ rites, + To joyes, and revels, sports, and he that can + Most honour _Archas_, is the noblest man. [_Exeunt._ + + + + +Prologue. + + + _We need not noble Gentlemen to invite + Attention, preinstruct you who did write + This worthy Story, being confident + The mirth join'd with grave matter, and Intent + To yield the hearers profit, with delight, + Will speak the maker: and to do him right, + Would ask a Genius like to his; the age + Mourning his loss, and our now widdowed stage + In vain lamenting. I could adde, so far + Behind him the most modern writers are, + That when they would commend him, their best praise + Ruins the buildings which they strive to raise + To his best memory, so much a friend + Presumes to write, secure 'twill not offend + The living that are modest, with the rest + That may repine he cares not to contest. + This debt to_ Fletcher _paid; it is profest + By us the Actors, we will do our best + To send such favouring friends, as hither come + To grace the Scene, pleas'd, and contented home._ + + + + +Epilogue. + + _Though something well assur'd, few here repent + Three hours of pretious time, or money spent + On our endeavours, Yet not to relye + Too much upon our care, and industrie, + 'Tis fit we should ask, but a modest way + How you approve our action in the play. + If you vouchsafe to crown it with applause, + It is your bountie, and you give us cause + Hereafter with a general consent + To study, as becomes us, your content._ + + + * * * * * + + + p. #47#, l. 9. _Adds_ Finis Actus Tertii. + l. 11. Servant and R. Bax, and. + l. 12. A stirs a stirs. + l. 26. barkes. + + p. #48#, l. 34. and whom. + + p. #49#, l. 26. his fierce. + l. 29. roome then. + l. 30. and old. + l. 33. your rare. + l. 37. her Ladies. + + p. #50#, l. 12. I must. + + p. #51#, l. 2. has. + l. 7. 2nd folio _misprints_] Philax. + + p. #52#, l. 1. _Adds as follows_] + + _Clo._ Why that ye wo't of, + + _Chi._ The turne the good turne? + + _Clo._ Any turne the Roche turne; + + _Chi._ That's the right turne for that turnes up the + bellie, I cannot, _etc._ + + l. 17. as brickle. + l. 20. That think no. + + p. #55#, l. 7. ath'. + l. 8. ath' the. + l. 17. weaker. + l. 29. a that. + l. 38. a will. + + p. #56#, l. 26. 2nd folio _misprints_] ne's. + l. 29. A comes. + l. 35. stand up my. + + p. #57#, l. 14. rogue. + l. 21. art ta? + l. 23. art ta? + l. 32. thou art a. + l. 39. doe ye. + + p. #58#, l. 18. Lyons. + l. 26. _Adds_ Finis Actus Quarti. + l. 28. Priest. + l. 30. a your. + + p. #60#, l. 9. cure this. + l. 10. He's man. + l. 12. is now. + l. 16. Oracle, Arras. + + p. #61#, l. 36. therefore, thy. + + p. #62#, l. 3. Therefore be. + l. 9. I shall. + l. 19. a had. + l. 36. 2nd folio] ha'! + + p. #63#, l. 6. A will. + l. 14. makes he. + l. 28. Battell. + + p. #64#, l. 2. _Omits_ and. + l. 7. in boyes in boyes. + l. 38. 2nd folio _misprints_] Cle. + + p. #65#, l. 17. _Omits_ her. + + p. #67#, l. 10. 2nd folio _omits_] Chi. (_char._). + l. 10. Chickens. + l. 24. weepes. + l. 26. A was. + l. 27. Ye have. + + p. #69#, l. 8. and like. + l. 33. Cleanthe, Curtisan, Lords. + + p. #70#, l. 6. my glorious. + l. 34. a sight. + l. 36. ye could. _Adds as next line_] + Roome before there. _Knock._ + + p. #71#, l. 8. _Prints_ To the, etc., _as a separate line and as + a heading_. + l. 9. _For_ Eum. _reads_ 1. Cap. + + p. #73#, l. 15. lov'st her. + l. 31. 2nd folio] Sister! + + p. #75#, l. 13. the Saylors sing. + l. 28. utters. + l. 32. _Adds_ Finis. + + +THE LOYAL SUBJECT. + + p. #76#, ll. 3-40. Not in 1st folio. + + p. #78#, l. 14. Archus. + l. 15. souldier. + l. 23. Archus. + l. 37. now you. + + p. #79#, l. 4. 2nd folio _misprints_] Pet. + + p. #80#, l. 24. eyes. + + p. #82#, l. 4. But to. + l. 31. 2nd folio _misprints_] Augel. + + p. #84#, l. 35. 2nd folio _misprints_] Gentlenem. + + p. #86#, l. 2. pray ye be. + l. 38. thanke high heaven. + + p. #87#, l. 1. 2nd folio] in'? + l. 30. _Omits_ Exit. + + p. #90#, l. 4. a pieces. + l. 30. beseech yee. + + p. #91#, l. 6. marvelous fine. + + p. #92#, l. 8. too late to. + l. 10. tremble. + l. 30. _Adds_ Exeunt. + + p. #94#, l. 14. Of every. + + p. #96#, l. 18. 2nd folio _misprints_] may. + l. 34. and 'has. + l. 38. And noise. + + p. #97#, l. 23. who, for. + l. 25. And shewrd. + + p. #103#, l. 35. 2nd folio _misprints_] Lorship. + + p. #106#, l. 16. 2nd folio] feed then. + + p. #107#, l. 18. it fits so. + + p. #112#, l. 8. fishmarket. + l. 28. paintings. + l. 32. 2nd folio _misprints_] Aac. + + p. #113#, l. 30. 'has. + l. 34. blame ye. + + p. #114#, l. 34. 'Has. + + p. #115#, l. 3. ye see. + l. 28. me Armes. + l. 38. None, none my Lord. + + p. #116#, l. 1. Thanke ye. + l. 18. me too far. + l. 31. he is. + + p. #117#, l. 21. content like harmles. + + p. #118#, l. 17. the fashion to. + + p. #119#, l. 21. ungrased. + l. 38. 2nd folio _misprints_] Is. + + p. #120#, l. 34. art not mad. + + p. #123#, l. 37. serv'd yee. + + p. #124#, l. 11. _Omits_ do. + l. 15. women. + l. 21. thinke ye. + + p. #125#, l. 1. it; 'sod if. + l. 24. Wickedly. + + p. #127#, l. 16. yeare. + + p. #128#, l. 9. _Reads stage direction_] Exit. + + p. #130#, l. 6. 2nd folio _misprints_] Bur. + l. 10. _Omits_ please. + + p. #134#, l. 31. hast ruine. + + p. #136#, l. 31. _The catchword at the foot of the page in the + 1st folio is_ And. + + p. #138#, l. 37. 2nd folio] Broms. + + p. #139#, l. 1. no trade. + l. 7. 2nd folio] traeds. + + p. #140#, l. 27. of your. + + p. #141#, l. 37. thats that. + l. 39. 2nd folio _misprints_] Hoa. + + p. #142#, l. 30. 2nd folio _misprints_] Dou. + + p. #146#, l. 18. tal. + + p. #147#, l. 22. _Omits_ are. + + p. #148#, l. 36. till ye. + + p. #149#, l. 40. _Adds_ Exit. + + p. #150#, l. 8. that told. + l. 18. 2nd folio _misprints_] guily. + + p. #151#, l. 13. Sword. + l. 31. and Kits. + l. 36. well meet. + + p. #153#, l. 15. 'May do. + l. 25. see these. + + p. #154#, l. 9. beleeve ye. + l. 22. not we. + + p. #155#, l. 31. Archas yet? + + p. #157#, l. 10. Pray you. + l. 27. shines. + + p. #162#, l. 29. not slacke. + + p. #167#, l. 22. The boy. + + p. #168#, l. 38. Hymens rights. + + p. #169#, l. 34. _Adds_ Finis. + + +RULE A WIFE, AND HAVE A WIFE. + +The Dramatis Personae are not given in the quarto of 1640 nor in the 2nd +folio. They are as follows:--Duke of Medina. Juan de Castro, Sanchio, +Alonzo, Michael Perez, Officers. Leon, Altea's brother. Cacafogo, a +userer. Lorenzo. Coachman, etc. Margarita. Altea. Estifania. Clara. +Three old ladies. Old woman. Maids, etc. + +Unless where otherwise stated the following variations are from the +quarto of 1640, the title-page of which runs thus:-- + + Rule a Wife | And have a Wife. | A comoedy. | Acted by his | Majesties + Servants. | Written by | John Fletcher | Gent. | Oxford, | Printed by + Leonard Lichfield | Printer to the University. | Anno 1640. + + p. #170#, l. 30. mouth. + + p. #171#, l. 14. most sublest. + l. 18. With yee. + l. 19. them. + l. 38. _and often elsewhere_] um _for_ 'em. + + p. #172#, l. 2. the picke. + + p. #173#, l. 22. thank ye. + + p. #175#, l. 1. Yes I. + l. 29. Exit. + l. 31. mine ayme. + + p. #176#, l. 30. 2nd folio _prints_] calling. | And + + p. #178#, l. 10. a starv'd. + l. 22. look'st. + l. 24. 2nd folio _misprints_] hear. + + p. #179#, l. 33. Or any. + + p. #182#, ll. 6, etc. Quarto _frequently prints_ 4. _for_ Altea _here + and in similar places_. + l. 33. doubty. + + p. #183#, l. 2. Has not. + l. 3. 2nd folio _misprints_] hin. + l. 5. Has no. + l. 38. 2nd folio _misprints_] compaines. + + p. #184#, l. 13. a house. + + p. #185#, l. 2. Altea, the Ladies. + l. 4. has been. + + p. #187#, l. 26. I finde. + + p. #189#, l. 28. enter'd here. + l. 39. salute him. + + p. #190#, l. 25. if she. + + p. #194#, ll. 8 and 11. _Omits_ Lady _here and often similarly + elsewhere_. + + p. #196#, l. 26. Exit. + + p. #197#, l. 20. basinesse. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Beaumont & Fletcher's Works (3 of 10): +The Loyal Subject, by Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BEAUMONT & FLETCHER'S WORKS *** + +***** This file should be named 39249.txt or 39249.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/9/2/4/39249/ + +Produced by Jonathan Ingram and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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