Chapter IV: Part 4

_Flo_. See, then, (my Lord) this Aggat that containes The image of that Goddesse and her sonne, Whom auncients held the Soveraignes of Love; See naturally wrought out of the stone (Besides the perfect shape of every limme, Besides the wondrous life of her bright haire) A waving mantle of celestiall blew Imbroydering it selfe with flaming Starres.

_Alber_. Most excellent: and see besides (my Lords) How _Cupids_ wings do spring out of the stone As if they needed not the helpe of Art.

_Flo_. My Lord, you see all sorts of Jewells heere, I will not tire your grace with view of them; Ile onely shew you one faire Aggat more, Commended chiefely for the workmanship.

_Alber_. O excellent! this is the very face Of _Cassimeere_: by viewing both at once, Either I thinke that both of them do live Or both of them are Images and dead.

_Flo_. My Lord, I feare I trouble you too long: Wilt please your Lordships taste th[e]is homely cates?

_Corn_. First (if it please you) give me leave to greete Your Princely hand with this unworthy gift, Yet woorthy since it represents your selfe.

_Alber_. What? my selfe, Lady? trust me it is pittie So faire a Jemme should hold so rude a picture.

_Cor_. My Lord, 'tis made a Jewell in your picture, Which otherwise had not deserv'd the name.

_Alber_. Kinde mistresse, kindly I accept your favor.

_Enter Lassingbergh, Haunce and Lucilia_.

_Flo_. Heere, you young gentleman; do you know this man?

[_Exit Han_.

_Mot_. Yes, signior _Flores_, 'tis Earle _Lassingbergh_.--My lord, what meane you to come this disguisd?

_Lu_. Aye me!

_Lass_. The foolish boye is mad; I am _Cornelius_. Earle _Lassingbergh_? I never heard of him.

_Flo_. O _Lassingbergh_, we know your villainie, And thy dishonour (fond _Lucilia_). Asse that I was, dull, sencelesse, grosse braynd fool That dayly saw so many evident signes Of their close dealings, winckings, becks and touches, And what not? To enforce me to discerne, Had I not been effatuate even by Fate. Your presence, noble Lords (in my disgrace) Doth deepely moove mee, and I heere protest Most solemnly (in sight of heaven and you) That if Earle _Lassingbergh_ this day refuse To make faire mends for this fowle trespasse done, I will revenge me on his treacherous heart Though I sustaine for him a thousand deaths.

_Cass_. This action (traitour _Lassingbergh_) deserves Great satisfaction or else great revenge.

_Alber_. Beleeve me, gallant Earle, your choice is faire. And worthy your most honourable love.

_Lassin_. My Lord, it greeves me to be thus unmaskt And made ridiculous in the stealth of love; But (for _Lucilias_ honour) I protest (Not for the desperate vowe that _Flores_ made) She was my wife before she knew my love, By secret promise made in sight of heaven. The marriage which he urgeth I accept, But this compulsion and unkinde disgrace Hath altered the condition of my love And filde my heart with yrksome discontent.

_Flor_. My Lord, I must preferre mine honour still Before the pleasure of the greatest Monarch, Which since your Lordship seekes to gratifie With just and friendly satisfaction, I will endeavour to redeeme the thought Of your affection and lost love to us. Wilt please you therefore now to associate This woorthy Prince at this unwoorthy banquet?

_Alber_. My Lord, let me intreate your company.

_Lassin_. Hold mee excusd, faire Prince; my grieved thoughts Are farre unmeete for festivall delights: Heere will I sit and feede on melancholie, A humour (now) most pleasing to my taste.

_Flor_. _Lucilia_, waite the pleasure of your love. My Lord, now to the banquet: Daughter, commaund us a carowse of wine.

[_Musick sounds awhile; and they sing
Boire a le Fountaine_.

My Lord, I greete you with this first carowse, And as this wine (the Elements sweete soule) Shall grow in me to bloud and vitall spirit, So shall your love and honor grow in me.

_Alber_. I pledge you, sir.

_Cass_. How like you him, my Lord?

_Alber_. Exceeding well. [_Sing boyre a le fountaine_.

_Flor_. _Cornelia_, do you serve the Prince with wine?

[_Shee puts the powder into the Cup and gives it the Prince_.

_Alber_. I thanke you, Lady; Earle _Cassimeere_, I greete you, and remember Your faire _Hyanthe_.

_Cass_. I thanke your honour.
[_Sing boyre a &c_.

_Flor_. Fill my Lord _Cassimere_ his right of wine.

_Cass_. _Cornelia_, I give you this dead carowse.

_Corn_. I thanke your Lordship.
[_Sing boyre a &c_.

_Alber_. What smoake? smoake and fire.

_Cass_. What meanes your honour?

_Alber_. Powder, powder, _Etna_, sulphure, fier: quench it, quench it.

_Flor_. I feare the medcine hath distemper'd him.--O villaine Doctor!

_Alber_. Downe with the battlements, powre water on! I burne, I burne; O give me leave to flie Out of these flames, these fiers that compasse me. [_Exit_.

_Cass_. What an unheard off accident is this? Would God, friend _Flores_, t'had not happen'd here.

_Flor_. My Lord, 'tis sure some Planet[53] striketh him; No doubt the furie will away againe.

_Cass_. Ile follow him. [_Exit_.

_Lass_. What hellish spright ordain'd this hatefull feast That ends with horror thus and discontent?

_Flor_. I hope no daunger will succeede therein; However, I resolve me to conceale it.-- My Lord, wilt please you now to change this habit, And deck your selfe with ornaments more fit For celebration of your marriage?

_Lass_. I, I, put on me what attire you will; My discontent, that dwels within me still.

[_Exeunt_

[SCENE 2.]

_Enter Haunce solus_.

_Hans_. Whom shall a man trust? a Painter? No: a servant? No: a bed fellowe? No: For, seeming for to see, it falls out right: All day a Painter, and an Earle at night.

_Enter Doctor_.

_Doct_. Ho, _Zaccharee_, bid _Ursula_ brushe my two, tree fine Damaske gowne; spread de rishe coverlet on de faire bed; vashe de fine plate; smoake all de shambra vit de sweete perfume.

_Hans_. Heer's the Doctor: what a gaping his wisedom keepes i'the streete! As if he could not have spoken all this within.

_Doct_. Ho, _Zaccharee_, if de grand patient come, you finde me signior _Flores_.

_Hans_. By your leave, maister Doctor.

_Doct_. _Hans_, my very speciall friend; fait and trot, me be right glad for see you veale.

_Hans_. What, do you make a Calfe of me, M. Doctor?

_Doct_. O no, pardona moy; I say vell, be glad for see you vell, in good health.

_Hans_. O, but I am sick, M. Doctor; very exceeding sick, sir.

_Doct_. Sick? tella me, by garr; me cure you presently.

_Hans_. A dead palsey, M. Doctor, a dead palsey.

_Doct_. Veare? veare?

_Hans_. Heere, M. Doctor; I cannot feele, I cannot feele.

_Doct_. By garr, you be de brave, merry man; de fine proper man; de very fine, brave, little, propta sweet Jack man; by garr, me loov'a you, me honour you, me kisse'a your foote.

_Hans_. You shall not stoope so lowe, good M. Doctor; kisse higher if it please you.

_Doct_. In my trot me honour you.

_Hans_. I, but you give me nothing, sir.

_Doct_. No? by garr, me giv'a de high commendation passe all de gold, precious pearle in de vorld.

_Hans_. I, sir, passe by it, you meane so, sir. Well, I shall have your good word, I see, M. Doctor.

_Doct_. I sayt.

_Hans_. But not a rag of money.

_Doct_. No, by my trot, no point money; me give de beggra de money, no point de brave man.

_Hans_. Would I were not so brave in your mouth.--But I can tell you newes, maister Doctor.

_Doct_. Vat be dat?

_Hans_. The young Prince hath drunke himselfe mad at my maisters to day.

_Doct_. By garr, drunke, I tinck.

_Hans_. No, sir, starke mad; he cryes out as if the towne were a fier.

_Doct_. By garr, me suspect a ting.

_Hans_. Nay, I can tell you more newes yet.

_Doct_. Vat newes?

_Hans_. If your cap be of capacitie to conceive it now, so it is. Ile deale with you by way of Interrogation:--

_Who is it must marry with_ Lucilia _bright?
All day a Painter, and an Earle at night_.

_Doct_. By garr, me no conceive vatt you say.

_Hans_. Let wisdome answer: _I aske what is man? A Pancake tost in Fortune's frying pan_.

_Doct_. Vat frying pan? by garr, I tinck de foolish petit Jack is madd.

_Hans_. _For, as an Asse may weare a Lyons skinne, So noble Earles have sometimes Painters binne_.

_Doct_. Garrs blurr, he ryme de grand Rats[54] from my house: me no stay, me go seek 'a my faire _Cornelia_. [_Exit_.

_Hans_. Farewell Doctor Doddy, in minde and in body An excellent Noddy: A cockscomb[55] incony, but that he wants mony To give _legem pone_. O what a pittifull case is this! What might I have done with this wit if my friends had bestowed learning upon me? Well, when all's don, a naturall guift is woorth all.

[_Exit_.

[SCENE 3.]

_Enter Alphonso, Hardenbergh, Hoscherman, with others, &c_.

_Hard_. The Ambassador of _Brunswick_ (good my lord) Begins to murmure at his long delayes?

_Hosc_. Twere requisit your highnes wold dismisse him.

_Alph_. Who holds him? let him go.

_Hard_. My Lord, you know his message is more great Then to depart so slightly without answer, Urging the marriage that your grace late sought With _Katherine_, sister to the Saxon Duke.

_Hosk_. Whom if your highnes should so much neglect As to forsake his sister and delude him, Considering already your olde jarre With the stoute _Lantsgrave_, what harmes might ensue?

_Alph_. How am I crost? _Hyanthe_ 'tis for thee That I neglect the Duchesse and my vowes.

_Hard_. My Lord, twere speciallie convenient Your grace would satisfie th'embassador.

_Alph_. Well, call him in.

_Hosk_. But will your Highnes then Forsake _Hyanthe_?

_Alph_. Nothing lesse, _Hosk[erman_].

_Hosk_. How will you then content th'embassadour?

_Alph_. I will delaie him with some kinde excuse.

_Hard_. What kinde excuse, my Lord?

_Alph_. For that let me alone; do thou but soothe What I my selfe will presently devise And I will send him satisfied away.

_Hard_. Be sure (my Lord) Ile soothe what ere you say.

_Alph_. Then let them come, we are provided for them.

_Enter Vandercleeve the Ambassador attended_.

My lord Ambassador, we are right sorrie Our urgent causes have deferd you thus In the dispatch of that we most desire. But for your answer: know I am deterr'd By many late prodigious ostents From present consumation of the nuptials Vowd twixt your beauteous Dutchesse and our selfe. O what colde feare mens jealous stomacks feele In that they most desire! suspecting still 'Tis eyther too too sweete to take effect Or (in th'effect) must meete with some harshe chaunce To intervent the joye of the successe. The same wisht day (my Lord) you heere arriv'd I bad Lord _Hardenbergh_ commaund two horse Should privately be brought for me and him, To meete you on the waye for honours sake And to expresse my joye of your repaire: When (loe!) the horse I us'd to ride upon (That would be gently backt at other times) Now, offring but to mount him, stood aloft, Flinging and bound. You know, Lord _Hardenbergh_.

_Hard_. Yes, my good Lord.

_Alph_. And was so strangely out of wonted rule That I could hardlie back him.

_Hard_. True, my liege; I stood amaz'd at it.

_Hard_. Well, yet I did, And riding (not a furlong) downe he fell.

_Hard_. That never heeretofore would trip with him.

_Alph_. Yet would I forward needs, but _Hardenbergh_. More timorous then wise, as I supposed, (For love so hardned me feare was my slave) Did ominate such likelie ill to me If I went forward, that with much enforcement Of what might chance he drave me to retreat. Didst thou not _Hardenbergh_.

_Hard_. I did, my Lord.

_Alph_. I warrant thou wilt say Thou never yet saw'st any man so loathe To be perswaded ill of so ill signes.

_Hard_. Never in all my life.

_Alph_. Thou wonderst at it?

_Hard_. I did indeed, my liege, not without cause.

_Alph_. O blame not, _Hardenbergh_, for thou dost know How sharpe my heart was set to entertaine The Lord of this Ambassage lovingly.

_Hard_. True, my good Lord.

_Alph_. But (coming back) how gently the Jade went,-- Did he not, _Hardenbergh_?

_Hard_. As any horse on earth could do, my Lord.

_Alph_. Well, sir, this drew me into deepe conceit, And to recomfort me I did commaund Lord _Hardenbergh_ should ope a Cabanet Of my choise Jewels and to bring me thence A ring, a riche and Violet _Hiacinthe_, Whose sacred vertue is to cheere the heart And to excite our heavie spirits to mirthe; Which[56], putting on my finger, swift did breake. Now this, indeed, did much discomfort me, And heavie to the death I went to bed; Where in a slumber I did strongly thinke I should be married to the beautious Dutchesse, And coming to my Chappell to that end, Duke _Constantine_ her brother with his Lords And all our peeres (me thought) attending us, Forth comes my princelie _Katherine_ led by death, Who threatening me stood close unto her side, Urging by those most horrible portents That wedding her I married mine owne death. I, frighted in my sleepe, struggled and sweat, And in the violence of my thoughts cryed out So lowde that _Hardenberghe_ awakt and rose. Didst thou not _Hardenberghe_?

_Hard_. I felt I did, for never yet (my Lord) Was I in heart and soule so much dismaide.

_Alph_. Why thus you see (my Lord) how your delaies Were mightilie and with huge cause enforste.

_Amb_. But dreames (my lord) you know growe by the humors Of the moist night, which, store of vapours lending Unto our stomaches when we are in sleepe And to the bodies supreame parts ascending, Are thence sent back by coldnesse of the braine, And these present our idle phantasies With nothing true but what our labouring soules Without their active organs safelie worke.

_Alph_. My lord, know you there are two sorts of dreams, One sort whereof are onely phisicall, And such are they whereof your Lordship speakes; The other Hiper-phisicall, that is Dreames sent from heaven or from the wicked fiends, Which nature doth not forme of her owne power But are extrinsecate, by marvaile wrought; And such was mine. Yet, notwithstanding this, I hope fresh starres will governe in the spring; And then, assure your princelie friend your maister, Our promise in all honour shall be kept. Returne this answere, Lord Ambassador, And recommend me to my sacred love.

_Amb_. I will, my lord; but how it will be accepted I know not yet; your selfe shall shortly heare.

_Alph_. Lords, some of you associate him.--Ha, ha!

[_Exeunt all but Alph_. [_and Hard_.

_Hard_. Exceeding well and gravelie good, my lord.

_Alph_. Come, lets go and visit my _Hianthe_, She whose perfections are of power to moove The thoughts of _Caesar_ (did he live) to love.

[_Exeunt_.

_Finis Actus Secundus_.

_Actus Tertius_.

_Enter Flores, Cassimeere, Lassing., Lucil., Cor., Han., and Doct_.

_Ha_. Well, mistr., God give you more joy of your husband then your husband has of you.

_Doct_. Fie, too, too bad by my fait. Vat, my lord? melancholie? and ha de sweete Bride, de faire Bride, de verie fine Bride? ô monsieur, one, two, tree, voure, vive, with de brave capra, heigh!

_Han_. O the Doctor would make a fine frisking usher in a dauncing schoole.

_Doct_. O by garr, you must daunce de brave galliarr. A pox of dis melancholie!

_Cass_. My Lord, your humors are most strange to us, The humble fortune of a servants life Should in your carelesse state so much displease.

_Lass_. _Quod licet ingratum est, quod non licet acrius urit_.

_Flor_. Could my childes beautie moove you so, my lord, When Lawe and dutie held it in restraint, And now (they both allowe it) be neglected?

_Lass_. I cannot rellish joyes that are enforst; For, were I shut in Paradice it selfe, I should as from a prison strive t'escape.

_Luc_. Haplesse _Luci[li]a_, worst in her best estate!

_Lass_. He seeke me out some unfrequented place Free from these importunities of love, And onelie love what mine owne fancie likes.

_Luc_. O staie, my Lord.

_Flor_. What meanes Earle _Lassenbergh_?

_Cass_. Sweete Earle, be kinder.

_Lass_. Let me go, I pray.

_Doct_. Vat? you go leave a de Bride? tis no point good fashion; you must stay, be garr.

_Lass_. Must I stay, sir?

_Doct_. I spit your nose, and yet it is no violence. I will give a de prove a dee good reason. Reguard, Monsieur: you no point eate a de meate to daie, you be de empty; be gar you be emptie, you be no point vel; be garr you be vere sick, you no point leave a de provision; be garr you stay, spit your nose.

_Lass_. All staies have strength like to thy arguments.

_Cass_. Staie, _Lassenbergh_.

_Luc_. Deare Lord.

_Flo_. Most honord Earle.

_Lass_. Nothing shall hinder my resolved intent, But I will restlesse wander from the world Till I have shaken off these chaines from me.

[_Exit La_.

_Luc_. And I will never cease to follow thee Till I have wonne thee from these unkinde thoughts.

_Cass_. Haplesse _Lucilia_! [_Exit Luc_.

_Flor_. Unkinde _Lassenbergh_!

_Doct_. Be garr, dis Earle be de chollericke complection, almost skipshack, be garr: he no point staie for one place. Madame, me be no so laxative; mee be bound for no point moove six, seaven, five hundra yeare from you sweete sidea; be garr, me be as de fine _Curianet_ about your vite necke; my harte be close tie to you as your fine Buske or de fine Gartra boute your fine legge.

_Hans_. A good sencible Doctor; how feelinglie he talkes.

_Doct_. A plage a de Marshan! blowe wind!

_Han_. You need not curse him, sir; he has the stormes at Sea by this time.

_Doct_. O _forte bien_! a good Sea-sick jeast by this faire hand: blowe wind for mee! puh, he no come heere, Madame.

_Flo_. Come, noble Earle, let your kind presence grace Our feast prepard for this obdurate Lord, And give some comfort to his sorrowfull bride Who in her pitteous teares swims after him.

_Doct_. Me beare you company, signior _Flores_.

_Flor_. It shall not need, sir.

_Doct_. Be garr, dis be de sweet haven for me for anchor.

_Flor_. You are a sweet smell-feast,[57] Doctor; that I see. Ile [have] no such tub-hunters use my house. Therefore be gone, our marriage feast is dasht.

_Doct_. Vat speake a me de feast? me spurne a, me kick a de feast; be garr, me tell a me do de grand grace, de favor for suppa, for dina, for eata with dee; be garrs blur, we have at home de restorative, de quintessence, de pure destill goulde, de Nector, de Ambrosia. _Zacharee_, make ready de fine partricke, depaste de grand _Otamon_.

_Han_. _Zacharee_ is not heere, sir, but Ile do it for you. What is that _Otomon_, sir?

_Doct_. O de grand Bayaret de Mahomet, de grand Turgur, be garr.

_Ha_. O a Turkie, sir, you would have rosted, would you? Call you him an _Otoman_?

_Doct_. Have de whole ayre of Fowle at commaund?

_Flor_. You have the foole[58] at command, sir: you might have bestowed your selfe better. Wil't[59] please you walke, M. Doct. Dodypoll.

[_Exeunt all but the Doctor_.

_Doct_. How? Doddie poole? garrs blurr, Doctor Doddie, no point poole. You be paltrie Jacke knave, by garr: de doctor is nicast, de doctor is rage, de doctor is furie, be gar, the doctor is horrible, terrible furie. Vell, derre be a ting me tinke; be gars blur, me know, me be revenge me tella de Duke. Vell, me say no more: chok a de selfe, foule churle, fowle, horrible, terrible pigge, pye Cod.

[_Exit_.

[SCENE 2.]

_Lea_. I wonder what varietie of sights Retaines your father and the prince so long With signior _Flores_?

_Hya_. O signior _Flores_ is a man so ample In every complement of entertainement, That guests with him are, as in Bowers enchanted, Reft of all power and thoughts of their returne.

_Enter the Duke and Hardenbergh_.

_Lean_. Be silent, heere's the Duke.

_Alp_. Aye me beholde Your sonne, Lord _Hardenbergh_, courting _Hyanthe_.

_Har_. If he be courting tis for you, my liege.

_Alph_. No, _Hardenbergh_; he loves my sonne too well --My faire _Hyanthie_, what discourse is it Wherewith _Leander_ holdes you this [thus?] attentive? Would I could thinke upon the like for you.

_Hya_. You should but speake and passe the time, my lord.

_Alp_. Passe-time that pleaseth you is the use of time: Had I the ordering of his winged wheele It onely should serve your desires and mine. What should it do if you did governe it.

_Hya_. It should go backe againe and make you yong.

_Alph_. Swounds, _Hardenbergh_.

_Hard_. To her againe, my Lord.

_Alp_. _Hyanthe_, wouldst thou love me, I would use thee So kindlie that nothing should take thee from me.

_Hya_. But time would soone take you from me, my lord.

_Alp_. Spight on my soule: why talke I more of time? Shee's too good for me at time, by heaven.

_Har_. I, and place to (my Lord) I warrant her.

_Omnes_. Stop, stop, stop!

_Enter Alberdure mad; Motto and others following him_.

_Mott_. O stay, my Lord.

_Albe_. _Hyanthe, Hyanthe_, ô me, my love!

_Lea_. Heer's the Duke his father, heele marr all.

_Albe_. O villaine, he that lockt her in his arms And through the river swims along with her. Staie, traiterous _Nessus_, give me bowes and shafts. Whirre! I have strooke him under the shorte ribs: I come, _Hyanthe_! O peace, weepe no more. [_Exit_.

_Alp_. Meanes he not me by _Nessus, Hardenbergh_?

_Hard_.[60] My lord, he is surelie mad.

_Alph_. _Hyanthe_ loves him: See how she trembles and how pale she lookes! She hath enchanted my deere _Alderbure_ With crafts and treasons and most villanous Arts Are meanes by which shee seekes to murder him. _Hardenbergh_, take her and imprison her Within thy house: I will not loose my sonne For all the wealth the Loves of heaven embrace.

_Hya_. What meanes your grace by this?

_Alp_. Away with her!

_Hya_. You offer me intolerable wrong.

_Alp_. Away with her, I say.

_Har_. Come Ladie, feare not, Ile entreate you well.

_Hya_. What injurie is this!

[_Exit Hard. with Hyan_.

_Alph_. So now I have obtainde what I desir'd, And I shall easilie worke her to my will; For she is in the hands of _Hardenbergh_ Who will continually be pleading for me.

_Enter Doctor_.

_Doct_. Roome! a halle, a hall! be garr, vere is de Duke?

_Alp_. Heere, maister Doctor.

_Doct_. O we have grand important matter for tella your grace how de know de cause for de wish cause your sonne is da madman.

_Enter Alberdure running_.

_Alb_. What? art thou heere? sweete _Clio_, come, be bright; Take me thy Timbrell and Tobaccho pipe, And give _Hyanthe_ musicke at her windowe.

_Doct_. Garrs blurr, my cap, my cap, cost me de deale a French crowne.

_Alb_. But I will crown thee with a cod of Muske, Instead of Lawrell, and a Pomander[61]: But thou must write _Acrostignues_ first, my girle.

_Doct_. Garzowne, what a pox do you stand heere for, de grand poltrone pezant, and see de Doctor be dus?

_Alb_. Aye me, what _Demon_ was it guide me thus? This is _Melpomene_, that Scottish witch[62], Whom I will scratche like to some villanous gibb, And--

_Doct_. O Garzowne, la diabole, la pestilence, gars blur!

_Alp_. Lay holde upon him, helpe the Doctor there!

_Alb_. Then reason's fled to animals, I see, And I will vanish like Tobaccho smoake. _Exit_.

_Doct_. A grand pestilence a dis furie

_Alp_. Follow him, sirs, _Leander_, good _Leander_! But, Doctor, canst thou tell us the true cause Of this suddaine frenzie?

_Doct_. O by garr, pleaze your grace heare de long tale [or] de short tale?

_Alp_. Briefe as you can, good Doctor.

_Doct_. Faite and trot, briefe den, very briefe, very laccingue. De Prince, your sonne, feast with de knave Jeweller, _Flores_, and he for make a Prince love a de foule croope-shouldra daughter _Cornelia_, give a de prince a de love poudra which my selfe give for the wenche a before, and make him starke madde be garr because he drinke a too much a.

_Alp_. How know you this?

_Doct_. Experience teach her, by garr; de poudra have grand force for inflama de bloud, too much make a de rage and de present furie: be garr, I feare de mad man as de devilla, garr blesse a.

_Enter Hardenbergh_.

_Alp_. How now, sweete _Hardenbergh_?

_Har_. The Prince, my Lord, in going downe the staires Hath forst an Axe[63] from one of the Trevants (?), And with it (as he runnes) makes such cleare way As no man dare oppose him to his furie.

_Alp_. Aye me, what may I do? heere are such newes As never could have entred our free ears But that their sharpnesse do enforce a passage. Follow us, Doctor; 'tis _Flores_ treacherie That thus hath wrought my sonnes distemperature.

_Exit [Alph_.

_Hard_. _Flores_, the Jeweller?

_Doct_. I, he, dat fine precious stone knave: by garr, I tinke I shall hit upon hir skirt till be thred bare new.

_Exit [Doct with Hard_.

[SCENE 3.]

_Musicke playing within. Enter a Peasant_.

_Pes_. 'Tis night, and good faith I am out of my way. O harke; What brave musick is this under the green hill?

_Enter Fairies bringing in a banquet_.

O daintie, O rare, a banquet! would to Christ I were one of their guests. Gods ad, a fine little Dapper fellow has spyed me: What will he doo? He comes to make me drinke: I thanke you, Sir. Some of your victuals, I pray; Sir; nay now keepe your meate, I have enough I; the cup, I faith. _Exit_.

_Enter the spirit with banquetting stuffe, and missing
the pesant, lookes up and downe for him; the rest
wondering at him; to them enters the Enchanter_.

_Ench_. Where is my precious cup, you Antique flames? Tis thou that hast convaide it from my bowre, And I will binde thee in some hellish cave Till thou recover it againe for me. You that are bodyes made of lightest ayre, To let a Peasant mounted on a Jade Coozen your curtesies and run away With such a Jewell, worthy are to endure Eternall pennance in the lake of fier.

_Enter Lass. and Lucilia_.

_Lass_. Wilt thou not cease then to pursue me still? Should I entreate thee to attend me thus, Then thou wouldst pant and rest, then thy soft feete Would be repining at these niggard stones: Now I forbid thee, thou pursuest like winde, Ne tedious space of time nor storme can tire thee. But I will seeke out some high slipperie close[64] Where every step shall reache the gate of death, That feare may make thee cease to follow me.

_Luc_. There will I bodilesse be when you are there, For love despiseth death and scorneth feare.

_Lass_. Ile wander, where some boysterous river parts This solid continent, and swim from thee.

_Luc_. And there Ile follow though I drown for thee.

_Lass_. But I forbid thee.

_Luc_. I desire thee more.

_Lass_. Art thou so obstinate?

_Luc_. You taught me so.

_Lass_. I see thou lovest me not.

_Luc_. I know I doo.

_Lass_. Do all I bid thee then.

_Luc_. Bid then as I may doo.

_Lass_. I bid thee leave mee.

_Luc_. That I cannot doo.

_Lass_. My hate.

_Luc_. My love.

_Lass_. My torment.

_Luc_. My delight.

_Lass_. Why do I straine to wearie thee with words? Speech makes thee live; Ile then with silence kill thee, Henceforth be deafe to thy words and dumbe to thy minde.

_Ench_. What rock hath bred this savage-minded man? That such true love in such rare beauty shines[65]! Long since I pittied her; pittie breeds love, And love commands th'assistance of my Art T'include them in the bounds of my command. Heere stay your wandering steps; chime[66] silver strings, Chime, hollow caves, and chime you whistling reedes, For musick is the sweetest chime for love. Spirits, bind him, and let me leave[67] my love.

[SCENE 4.]

_Enter A[l]berdure at one doore, and meetes with
the Pesant at the other doore_.

_Alb_. _Hyanthe_, ô sweet _Hyanthe_, have I met thee? How is thy beautie changed since our departure! A beard, _Hyanthe_? ô tis growne with griefe, But now this love shall tear thy griefe from thee.

_Pes_. A pox on you! What are you? Swounds, I think I am haunted with spirits.

_Alb_. Weepe not, _Hyanthe_; I will weepe for thee, Lend me thy eyes. No, villaine, thou art he That in the top of _Eruines_ hill Daunst with the Moone and eate up all the starres, Which made thee like _Hyanthe_ shine so faire; But, villaine, I will rip them out of thee.

_Enter Motto and others_.

_Pea_. Slid, holde your hands.

_Alb_[68]. I come with thunder.

_Pea_. Come and you dare.

_Mott_. Holde, villaine; tis the young prince _Alberdure_.

_Pea_. Let the young prince hold then; slid, I have no starres in my bellie, I; let him seeke his _Hyanthe_ where he will.

_Alb_. O this way by the glimmering of the Sunne And the legieritie[69] of her sweete feete She scowted on, and I will follow her. I see her, like a goulden spangle, sit Upon the curled branch of yonder tree. Sit still, _Hyanthe_; I will flie to thee. _Exit_.

_Mott_. Follow, follow, follow!

_Exeunt all but Peas_.

_Enter Flores and Hance_.[70]

_Pea_. Together and be hanged. O heere comes more; pray God I have better lucke with these two. By your leave, sir, do you know one Maist. _Flores_, I pray?

_Flo_. What wouldst thou have with him?

_Pea_. Faith, Sir, I am directed to you by Lady Fortune with a peece of plate. I doe hope you will use plaine dealing, being a Jeweller.

_Flo_. Where hadst thou this?

_Pea_. In a very strange place, sir.

_Han_. He stole it, sir, I warrant you.

_Flo_. I never sawe a Jemme so precious, So wonderful in substance and in Art. Fellow, confesse preciselie where thou hadst it.

_Pea_. Faith, sir, I had it in a cave in the bottome of a fine greene hill where I found a company of Fairies, I thinke they call them.

_Flo_. Sawst thou any more such furniture there?

_Pea_. Store, sir, store.

_Flo_. And canst thou bring me thither?

_Pea_. With a wet finger[71], sir.

_Han_. And ha they good cheere, too?

_Pea_. Excellent.

_Han_. O sweete thiefe!

_Flo_. Tis sure some place enchanted, which this ring Will soone dissolve and guard me free from feare. --Heer's for the cup; come, guide me quickly thither. Ah, could I be possest of more such Jemmes, I were the wealthiest Jeweller on earth.

_Exeunt_.

[SCENE 5.]

_Enter Enchanter, leading Luc. and Lass. bound by
spirits; who being laid down on a green banck,
the spirits fetch in a bânquet_.

THE SONG.

_O princely face and fayre, that lightens all the ayre,
Would God my eyes kind fire might life and soule inspire.
To thy rich beauty shining in my hearts treasure,
The unperfect words refining for perfect pleasure_.

_Ench_. Lie there and lose the memorie of her Who likewise hath forgot the thought of thee By my inchantments. Come, sit down, fair Nimphe, And taste the sweetnesse of these heavenly cates, Whilst from the hollow cranies[72] of this rocke Musick shall sound to recreate my love. But tell me had you ever lover yet?

_Luc_. I had a lover, I thinke, but who it was, Or when, or how, long since, aye me, I know not. Yet beat my timerous thoughts on such a thing; I feele a pasionate hearte but finde no flame, Thinke what I know not, nor know what I thinke.

_Ench_. Hast thou forgot me, then? I am thy love, Whom sweetly thou wert wont to entertaine With lookes, with vowes of love, with amorous kisses. Lookst thou so strange? dost thou not know me yet?

_Luc_. Sure I should know you.

_Ench_. Why, love? doubt you that? Twas I that lead you through the painted meadows, When the light Fairies daunst upon the flowers, Hanging on every leafe an orient pearle[73] Which, strooke together with the silver winde Of their loose mantels, made a silvery chime. Twas I that winding my shrill bugle horn, Made a guilt pallace breake out of the hill, Filled suddenly with troopes of knights and dames Who daunst and reveld whilste we sweetly slept Upon a bed of Roses, wrapt all in goulde. Doost thou not know me yet?

_Luc_. Yes, now I know you.

_Ench_. Come then, confirme thy knowledge with a kiss.

_Luc_. Nay, stay, you are not he: how strange is this!

_Ench_. Thou art growne passing strange, my love, To him that made thee so long since his bride.

_Luc_. O, was it you? come then. O stay a while: I know not what[74] I am nor where I am, Nor you, nor these I know, nor any thing.

_Enter Flores with Hance and the Peasant_.

_Pea_. This is the greene, Sir, where I had the cup, And this the bottome of a falling hill; This way I went following the sound. And see--

_Han_. O see, and seeing eate withall.

_Flo_. What? _Lassenbergh_ laid bound, and fond _Lucilia_. Wantonly feasting by a strangers side! --Peasant, be gone:

[_Exit Peasant_[75]]

_Hance_, stand you there and stir not.-- Now sparckle forth thy beams, thou vertuous Jemme, And lo[o]se these strong enchantments.

_Ench_. Stay! aye me, We are betrai'd! Haste, spirits, and remove This table and these cups,--remove, I say: Our incantations strangely are dissolv'd.

_Exeunt Ench. with spirits and banquets_.

_Han_. O spightfull churles! have they caried away all? has haste made no waste?

_Luc_. My Lord, Earle _Lassenbergh_, ô pardon me.

_Lass_. Away from me.

_Luc_. O can I in these bands? Forget the dutie of my love to you? Were they of Iron, or strong Adamant, My hands should teare them from my wronged Lord.

_Flo_. O, _Lassenbergh_, to what undoubted perrill Of life and honour had you brought your selfe By obstinacie of your froward minde, Had not my fortune brought me to this place To lo[o]se the enchantment, which enthralled you both, By hidden vertue of this precious ring. Come, therefore, friendly and imbrace at last The living partner of your strange mishaps Justly pursuing you for flying her.

_Lass_. Leave me, I say; I can endure no more.

_Lu_. Ah, have I loos'd thee then to flie from mee?

_Lass_. Away! [_Exit_.

_Lu_. Ile follow thee,

_Flo_. Tarrie, _Lucilia_.

_Lu_. Deare father, pardon mee. [_Exit_.

_Flo_. Sirrah, attend her. Poore wretch, I feare this too much love in thee Is fatall to thee. Up, Sirrah, follow your mistresse.

_Han_. I, sir, I go; my mistresse dogs the banket and I dog her.

[_Exeunt_.

_Finis Actus Tertii_.

[_Actus Quartus_.]

_Enter Motto, Raphe bringing in Alberdure_.

_Motto_. So, sir, lay even downe your handie worke.

_Rap_. Nay, sir, your handie worke, for you were the cause of his drowning.

_Mot_. I? I defie thee. Wert not thou next him when he leapt into the River?

_Rap_. O monstrous lyar!

_Mot_. Lye! you peasant, go too: Ile go tell the Duke.

_Rap_. I, sir, Ile go with you, I warrant you.

[_Exeunt_.

_Alb_. What sodain cold is this that makes me shake, Whose veines even now were fill'd with raging fire? How am I thus all wet? What water's this That lies so ycelike, freezing in my blood? I thinke the cold of it hath cur'd my heate, For I am better temperd than before. But in what unacquainted place am I? 0 where is my _Hyanthe_, where's _Leander_? What, all alone? nothing but woods and streames? I cannot guesse whence these events should grow.

_Enter Peasant_.

_Pea_. O that I could lose my way for another cup, now. I was well paide for it yfaith.

_Alb_. Yonder is one; Ile enquire of him. Fellow, ho! peasant!

_Pea_. Aie me, the mad man againe, the mad man.

_Alb_. Saie, whither fliest thou.

_Pea_. Pray, let me goe, sir; I am not _Hyanthe_, in truth I am not, sir.

_Alb_. _Hyanthe_, villaine? wherfore namest thou her?

_Pea_. If I have any scarres in my belly, pray God I starve, sir.

_Alb_. The wretch is mad, I thinke.

_Pea_. Not I, sir, but you be not madde, you are well amended, sir.

_Alb_. Why tellest thou me of madnesse?

_Pea_. You were little better then mad even now, sir, when you gave me such a twitch by the beard.

_Alb_. I can remember no such thing, my friend.

_Pea_. No, sir, but if you had a beard you wold.

_Alb_. What place is this? how far am I from court?

_Pea_. Some two myles and a wye byt, sir.

_Alb_. I wonder much my friends have left me thus. Peazant, I pray thee change apparell with mee.

_Pea_. Change apparell, I faith you will lose by that, sir.

_Alb_. I care not; come, I pray thee, letts change.

_Pea_. With all my heart, sir, and I thanke you, too. Sblood y'are very moist, sir, did you sweat all this, I pray? you have not the desease, I hope?

_Alb_. No, I warrant thee.

_Pea_. At a venture, sir, Ile change. Nothing venter, nothing enter.

_Alb_. Come, letts be gone.

_Pea_. Backe, sir, I pray.

[_Exeunt_.

[SCENE 2.]

_Enter Hardenbergh with a guard, bringing in
Cassimere, Flores, Doctor, Marchant, Cornelia,
Motto, and Raphe_.

_Har_. Thus, _Flores_, you apparantly perceive How vaine was your ambition and what dangers, All unexpected, fall upon your head, Povertie, exile, guiltinesse of heart, And endlesse miserie to you and yours. Your goods are seized alreadie for the Duke; And, if Prince _Alberdure_ be found deceast, The least thou canst expect is banishment. Earle _Cassimere_, I take[76] your word of pledge Of his appearance. Pages of the Prince, Come guide me straight where his drownd bodie lies, Drownes his father in eternall teares.

[_Exit cum servis; manet Al_.

_Mot_. Drownes him and will hang us.

_Mar_. Good Signior _Flores_, I am sorry for you.

_Doct_. _Marshan_, parle vu pen. Be garr, me vor grand love me beare de good Mershan, vor de grand worte, be garr, and de grand deserte me sea in you, de bravea Mershan, me no point rivall; you have _Cornelia_ alone, by my trot, ha, ha, ha!

_Mar_. M. Doctor _Doddie_, surnam'd the Amorous'de, I will overcome you in curtesie, your selfe shall have her.

_Doct_. No, by garr, Marshan: you bring de fine tings from de strange land vere de Sunne do rise, de Jewell, de fine stuffe vor de brave gowne: me no point. Come, by garr, you have _Cornel_.

_Cass_. Hands off, base Doctor! she despiseth thee, Too good for thee to touch or looke upon.

_Flo_. What wretched state is this, Earle _Cassimere_, That I and my unhappie progenie Stand subject to the scornes of such as these!

_Cass_. Grieve not, deare friends, these are but casuall darts. That wanton Fortune daily casts at those In whose true bosomes perfect honour growes. Now, _Dodypoll_, to you: you here refuse _Cornelias_ marriage? you'le none of her!

_Doct_. Be garr, you be the prophet; not I by my trot.

_Cass_. Nor you, maste[r] merchant? shee's too poore for you!

_Mar_. Not so, sir; but yet I am content to let fall my suite.

_Cass_. _Cornelia_, both dissembled they would have you; Which like you best?

_Cor_. My Lord, my fortunes are no chusers now,-- Nor yet accepters of discurtesies.

_Cass_. You must chuse one here needs.

_Doct_. By garr, no chuse mee, me clime to heaven, me sincke to hell, me goe here, me go dare, me no point deere, by garr.

_Cass_. If you will none, whose judgement are too base To censure true desert, your betters will.

_Flo_. What meanes Lord _Cassimere_ by these strange words?

_Cass_. I mean to take _Cornelia_ to my wife.

_Flo_. Will you, then, in my miserie, mock me too?

_Cass_. I mock my friend in misery? heavens, scorne such! Halfe my estate and halfe my life is thine; The rest shall be _Cornelia's_ and mine.

_Doct_. O bitter shame, be garr.

_Flo_. My Lord, I know your noble love to me And do so highly your deserts esteeme That I will never yeeld to such a match. Choose you a beautious dame of high degree And leave _Cornelia_ to my fate and mee.

_Cass_. Ah, _Flores, Flores_, were not I assured Both of thy noblenesse, thy birth and merite, Yet my affection vow'd with friendships toong, In spite of all base changes of the world That tread on noblest head once stoopt by fortune Should love and grace thee to my utmost power. _Cornelia_ is my wife: what sayes my love? Cannot thy father's friend entreat so much.

_Cor_. My humble minde can nere presume To dreame in such high grace to my lowe seate.

_Cass_. My graces are not ordered in my words. Come love, come friend; for friendship now and love Shall both be joynde in one eternall league.

_Flo_. O me, yet happy in so true a friend.

[_Exeunt_.

_Doct_. Est possible, by garr? de foole Earle drinke my powder, I tinke. Mershan tella mee.

_Mar_. What, maister Doctor Doddie?

_Doct_. Hab you de blew and de yellow Velvet, ha?

_Mar_. What of that, sir?

_Doct_. Be gar, me buy too, three peece for make de Cockes-combe pur the foole Earle, ha, ha, ha! [_Exit_.

_Mer_. Fortune fights lowe when such triumphe on Earles.

[_Exit_.

(SCENE 3.)

_Enter Lassenbergh singing, Lucilia following;
after the song he speakes_.

_Lass_. O wearie of the way and of my life, Where shall I rest my sorrow-tired[77] limmes!

_Luc_. Rest in my bosome, rest you here, my Lord; A place securer you can no where finde.

_Lass_. Nor more unfit for my displeased minde. A heavie slumber calles me to the earth; Heere will I sleepe, if sleep will harbour heere.

_Luc_. Unhealthful is the melancholic earth: O let my Lord rest on _Lucilia's_ lappe. Ile helpe to shield you from the searching ayre And keepe the colde dampes from your gentle bloud.

_Lass_. Pray thee, away; for, whilst thou art so neere, No sleepe will seaze on my suspicious eyes.

_Luc_. Sleepe then, and I am pleazd far off to sit Like to a poore and forlorne Sentinell, Watching the unthankful sleepe that severs me From my due part of rest deere love with thee.

_She sits farre off from him_.

_Enter Const. Dutchesse with a willowe garland, cum aliis_.

_Con_. Now are we neere the court of _Saxonie_, Where the duke dreames such tragicall ostents.

_Amb_. I wonder we, now treading on his soile, See none of his strange apparitions.

_Kath_. We are not worthy of such meanes divine, Nor hath heaven care of our poore lives like his. I must endure the end and show I live Though this same plaintive wreathe doth show me forsaken. Come, let us foorth.

_Const_. Stay, sister; what faire sight Sits mourning in this desolate abode?

_Dut_. Faire sight indeed it is, and much to faire To sit so sad and solitarie there.

_Con_. But what is he that cur-like sleepes alone?

_Dut_. Look, is it not my Nephew _Lassingbergh_?

_Amb_. Madame, 'tis hee.

_Dut_. Ile sure learne more of this.-- Lady, if strangers that [do] wish you well May be so bould to aske, pray whats the cause That you [so] more then strangely sit alone?

_Luc_. Madam, thus must forsaken creatures sit Whose merits cannot make their loves consort them.

_Dut_. What a poore fellow in my miserie! Welcome, sweet partner, and of favour tell me, Is this some friend of yours that slumbers heere?

_Luc_. My husband (madame) and my selfe his friend, But he of late unfriendly is to me.

_Con_. Sister, lets wake her friend.

_Dut_. No, let him sleepe; And, gentle dame, if you will be rulde by me, Ile teach you how to rule your friend in love: Nor doubt you our acquaintance, for the man Whom you so much affect is friend to us.

_Shee riseth_.

_Luc_. Pardon me, Madame; now I know your grace.

_Dut_. Then knowst thou one in fortune like thy selfe, And one that tenders thy state as her owne. Come, let our Nephew Lassingberg sleepe there, And, gentle Neace, come you to court with us, If you dare mixe your loves successe with mine. I warrant you I counsell for the best.

_Luc_. I must not leave him now (madame) alone, Whom thus long I have followed with such care.

_Dut_. You wearie him with too much curtesie; Leave him a little and heele follow you.

_Luc_. I know not what to doo.

_Dut_. Come, come with us.

_Con_. Dame, never fear; get you a Willow w[reath]; The Dutchesse (doubt not) can advise you well.

_Luc_. Lets wake him then, and let him go with [us].

_Dut_. That's not so good; I pray be rulde by me.

_Luc_. Sleep, then, deare love; and let sleep that doth bind Thy sence so gently, make thee more kinde.

[_Exeunt_.

_Enter Hance in the Prince's apparrall, and the Peasant_.

_Pea_. Come, sirra, money for your gentlemans apparel; you promist me money, sir, but I perceive you forget your selfe.

_Han_. True, pride makes a man forget himselfe; and I have quite forgot that I owe thee any.

_Pea_. But Ile put you in minde, sir, if there be any sergeants in _Saxonie_; I thinke I meane not to loose so much by you.

_Han_. Why, I have lost a maister and a mistresse, and yet I aske thee no money for them.

_Pea_. I bought them not of you, sir; therefore pay me my money.

_Han_. I will pay thee morningly every morning as long as thou livest; looke in thy right shooe and thou shalt finde sixe pence.

_Pea_. What a fowle knave and fairie! Well, use thy conscience: I thanke God I stand in neede of no such trifles. I have another jewell heere which I found in the Princes pocket when I chang'd apparell with him; that will I make money of, and go to the jeweller that bought the cup of mee. Farewell: if God put in thy mind to pay me, so; if not, so. [_Exit_.

_Han_. O brave free-harted slave, he has the laske of mind upon him.

_Lass_. What speech is this that interrupts my rest? Who have we heere?

_Han_. Sometime a serving man, and so were yee, Both now jolly gentlemen you see.

_Lass_. What, sir, how came you thus gallant, I beseech you?

_Han_. I turn'd the spit in Fortune's wheele, sir.

_Lass_. But, stay, where is _Lucilia_?

_Han_. Marry, where say you, sir?

_Lass_. Villaine, looke for her, call her, seeke her out. _Lucillia_! where's my love, ô where's _Lucillia_! Aye me, I feare my barbarous rudenesse to her Hath driven her to some desperate exigent. Who would have tempted her true love so farre? The gentlest minds with injuries overcome Growe most impacient: ô _Lucilia_, Thy absence strikes a loving feare in me, Which from what cause so ever it proceedes Would God I had beene kinder to thy love.

_Enter Hard, with a Guard, Motto, Raphe_.

_Hard_. Slaves, can ye not direct us to the place?

_Mot_. Yes, sir, here's the place we left him in.

_Ra_. O see (my lord) heer's one weares his apparrell.

_Hard_. But where is he? stay, sirra, what are you That jet thus in the garments of the Prince.

_Han_. Bought and sold, sir, in the open market, sir. Aske my maister.

_Hard_. Earle _Lassingbergh_, where is the Princes body?

_Lass_. Why aske you me, my Lord?

_Hard_. Since you are in the place where he was drownd, And this your hinde here hath his garments on.

_Lass_. Enquire of him then.

_Hard_. Ile enquire of you And of your gallant, too. Guard, apprehend them And bring them presentlie to court with us.

_Lass_. What meanes Lord _Hardenberg_ to entreate me thus?

_Har_. That you shall know anon: bring them away.

[_Exeunt_.

[SCENE 4]

_Enter Leander and Hyanthe_.

_Lean_. O, Madam, never were our teares bestowed Of one whose death was worthier to be mon'd. Deere _Alberdure_, why parted I from thee, And did not like the faithful _Pilades_ Attend my deare Orestes in his rage?

_Hya_. O my sweete love, O princelie _Alberdure_, Would God the river where thy course lay drownde Were double deepe in me and turned to teares That it might be consumde for swallowing thee.

_Enter Alber, with a basket of Apricocks, disguised_.

_Alber_. In this disguise Ile secretly enquire Why I was so forsaken of my friend And left to danger of my lunacie. Here is the man that most I blame for this, Whose vowed friendship promisd greater care; But he, it seemes, enamour'd of my love, Was glad of that occasion, and I feare Hath turned her womanish conceipt from me. Ile proove them both. Maister, wilt please [you] buy A basket of well riped Apricocks?

_Lea_. I pray thee keepe thy dainties; I am full Of bitter sorrowes as my hart can holde.

_Alb_. It may be, Maister, your faire Lady will.

_Hya_. No, friend; my stomach is more full then his.

_Lea_. Where dwellest thou, friend?

_Alb_. Not farre from hence, my Lord.

_Lea_. Then thou knowest well which was the fatall streame Wherein the young prince _Alberdure_ was drownd?

_Alb_. I know not he was drowned, but oft have seene The pittious manner of his lunacie; In depth whereof he still would eccho forth A Ladies name that I have often heard, Beautious _Hyanthe_; but in such sad sort As if his frenzie felt some secret touch Of her unkindnesse and inconstancie, And when his passions somewhat were appeaz'd, Affording him (it seemed) some truer sence. Of his estate, left in his fittes alone Then would he wring his hands, extreamly weeping, Exclaiming on the name of one _Leander_, Calling him Traitor and unworthie friend So to forsake him in his miserie.

_Lea_. Accursed I! ô thou hast mooved me more Than if a thousand showers of venom'd darts With severall paines at once had prickt my soule.

_Hya_. O thou ordained to beare swords in thy toung, Dead thou hast struck me and I live no more.

_Alb_. It seemes your honoures loved him tenderly.

_Lea_. O my good friend, knewest thou how deer I loved him.

_Hya_. Nay, knewest thou, honest friend, how deere I loved him.

_Alb_. I see, then, you would rejoyce at his health.

_Lea_. As at my life, were it revived from death.

_Hya_. As at my soule, were it preserv'd from hell.

_Alber_. Be then from death and hell recovered both As I am now by your firme loves to me. Admire me not, I am that _Alberdure_ Whom you thought drownde; that friend, that love am I.

_Lea_. Pardon, sweete friend.

_Hya_. Pardon, my princely love.

_Alber_. Dear love, no further gratulations now Least I be seene and knowne; but, sweete _Leander_, Do you conceale me in thy father's house. That I may now remaine with my _Hyanthe_ And at our pleasures safely joy each others love.

_Lea_. I will (deare friend) and blesse my happy stars That give me meanes to so desir'de a deed.

_Finis Actus Quarti_.

_Actus Quintus_.

_Enter Cassimeere, Flores with the Cup,
Peasant, and the Marchant_.

_Mar_. See, signior _Flores_, A Peasant that I met with neere your house, Where[78] since he found you not he asked of me The place of your abode; and heere I have brought him.

_Flo_. I thank you, sir. My good Lord _Cassimeere_, This is the man that brought this cup to me Which for my ransome we go now to offer To my good lord the Duke.

_Cass_. What brings he now?

_Flo_. That will we know. Come hither, honest friend; What wisht occasion brings thee now to me?

_Pea_. This occasion, sir; what will ye give me for it?

_Flo_. Thou art a luckie fellow; let us see. Lord _Cassimeere_, this is the haplesse Jewell That represents the form of _Alberdure_, Given by _Cornelia_ at our fatall feast. Where hadst thou this, my good and happy friend?

_Pea_. Faith, sir, I met with the young prince all wet, who lookt as if he had been a quarter of a yeare drowned, yet prettelie come to himselfe, saving that he was so madde to change apparrell with me; in the pocket whereof, sir, I found this Jewell.

_Flo_. O tell me trulie, lives prince _Alberdure_?

_Pea_. He lives a my word, sir, but very poorely now, God help him.

_Cass_. Is he recovered of his lunacie?

_Pea_. I, by my faith, hee's tame enough now, Ile warrant him.

_Flo_. And where is he?

_Pea_. Nay, that I cannot tell.

_Cass_. Come, _Flores_, hast we quicklie to the Court With this most happie newes.

_Flo_. Come, happie friend, The most auspicious messenger to me That ever greeted me in Pesants weeds.

[_Exeunt_.

_Enter Doctor_.