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The Project Gutenberg EBook of Beaumont & Fletcher's Works (3 of 10): The
Loyal Subject, by Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher
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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
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</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>
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