Chapter II: Front Matter (2)

_Anc._ Fare ye well Sir,
And buy a pipe with that: do ye see this skarf Sir?
By this hand I'le cry Brooms in't, birchen Brooms Sir,
Before I eat one bit from your benevolence.
Now to our old occupations again.
By your leave Lord. [_Exeunt._

_Bor._ You will bite when ye are sharper; take up the mony.
This love I must remove, this fondness to him,
This tenderness of heart; I have lost my way else.
There is no sending man, they will not take it,
They are yet too full of pillage,
They'l dance for't ere't be long:
Come, bring it after.

_Enter_ Duke.

_Duke._ How now, refus'd their mony?

_Bor._ Very bravely,
And stand upon such terms 'tis terrible.

_Duke._ Where's _Archas_?

_Bor._ He's retir'd Sir, to his house,
According to your pleasure, full of dutie
To outward shew: but what within--

_Duke._ Refuse it?

_Bor._ Most confidently: 'tis not your revenues
Can feed the[m] Sir, and yet they have found a General
That knows no ebbe of bountie: there they eat Sir,
And loath your invitations.

_Duke._ 'Tis not possible,
He's poor as they.

_Bor._ You'l find it otherwise.
Pray make your journey thither presently,
And as ye goe I'le open ye a wonder.
Good Sir this morning.

_Duke._ Follow me, I'le doe it. [_Exeunt._

SCENA II.

_Enter_ Olympia, Alinda, Burris, _and Gentlewomen_.

_Olym._ But do you think my Brother loves her?

_Bur._ Certain Madam,
He speaks much of her, and sometimes with wonder,
Oft wishes she were nobler born.

_Olym._ Do you think him honest?

_Bur._ Your Grace is nearer to his heart, than I am,
Upon my life I hold him so.

_Olym._ 'Tis a poor wench,
I would not have her wrong'd: methinks my Brother--
But I must not give rules to his affections;
Yet if he weigh her worth--

_Bur._ You need not fear Madam.

_Olym._ I hope I shall not: Lord _Burris_
I love her well; I know not, there is something
Makes me bestow more than a care upon her:
I do not like that ring from him to her;
I mean to women of her way, such tokens
Rather appear as baits, than royal bounties:
I would not have it so.

_Bur._ You will not find it,
Upon my troth I think his most ambition
Is but to let the world know h'as a handsom Mistris:
Will your grace command me any service to him?

_Olym._ Remember all my duty.

_Bur._ Blessings crown ye:
What's your will Lady?

_Al._ Any thing that's honest;
And if you think it fit, so poor a service,
Clad in a ragged vertue, may reach him,
I do beseech your Lordship speak it humbly.

_Bur._ Fair one I will: in the best phrase I have too,
And so I kiss your hand. [_Exit._

_Al._ Your Lordships Servant.

_Olym._ Come hither wench, what art thou doing with that Ring?

_Al._ I am looking on the posie, Madam.

_Olym._ What is't?

_Al._ The Jewel's set within.

_Olym._ But where the joy wench,
When that invisible Jewel's lost? why dost thou smile so?
What unhappy meaning hast thou?

_Al._. Nothing Madam,
But only thinking what strange spells these Rings have,
And how they work with some.

_Pet._ I fear with you too.

_Al._ This could not cost above a Crown.

_Pet._ 'Twill cost you
The shaving of your crown, if not the washing.

_Olym._ But he that sent it, makes the vertue greater;

_Al._ I and the vice too Madam: goodness bless me:
How fit 'tis for my finger!

_2 W._ No doubt you'l find too
A finger fit for you.

_Al._ Sirrah, _Petesca_,
What wilt thou give me for the good that follows this?
But thou hast Rings enough, thou art provided:
Heigh ho, what must I doe now?

_Pet._ You'l be taught that,
The easiest part that e're you learn't, I warrant you.

_Al._ Ay me, ay me.

_Pet._ You will divide too, shortly,
Your voice comes finely forward.

_Olym._ Come hither wanton,
Thou art not surely as thou saist.

_Al._ I would not:
But sure there is a witchcraft in this Ring, Lady,
Lord how my heart leaps!

_Pet._ 'Twill goe pit a pat shortly.

_Al._ And now methinks a thousand of the Dukes shapes.

_2 W._ Will no less serve ye?

_Al._ In ten thousand smiles.

_Olym._ Heaven bless the wench.

_Al._ With eyes that will not be deni'd to enter;
And such soft sweet embraces; take it from me,
I am undone else Madam: I'm lost else.

_Olym._ What ailes the girle?

_Al._ How suddenly I'm alter'd!
And grown my self again! do not you feel it?

_Olym._ Wear that, and I'le wear this:
I'le try the strength on't.

_Al._ How cold my bloud grows now!
Here's sacred vertue:
When I leave to honour this,
Every hour to pay a kiss,
When each morning I arise,
Or I forget a sacrifice:
When this figure in my faith,
And the pureness that it hath,
I pursue not with my will,
Nearer to arrive at still:
When I lose, or change this Jewel,
Flie me faith, and heaven be cruel.

_Olym._ You have half confirm'd me,
Keep but that way sure,
And what this charm can doe, let me endure. [_Exeunt._

SCENA III.

_Enter_ Archas, Theodore, _2 Daughters_ Honora _and_ Viola.

_Ar._ Carry your self discreetly, it concerns me,
The Duke's come in, none of your froward passions,
Nor no distasts to any: Prethee _Theodor_,
By my life, boy, 'twill ruine me.

_The._ I have done Sir,
So there be no foul play he brings along with him.

_Ar._ What's that to you?
Let him bring what please him,
And whom, and how.

_The._ So they mean well--

_Ar._ Is't fit you be a Judge sirrah?

_The._ 'Tis fit I feel Sir.

_Ar._ Get a banquet ready,
And trim your selves up handsomly.

_The._ To what end?
Do you mean to make 'em whores?
Hang up a sign then,
And set 'em out to Livery.

_Ar._ Whose son art thou?

_The._ Yours Sir, I hope: but not of your disgraces.

_Ar._ Full twenty thousand men I have commanded,
And all their minds, with this calm'd all their angers;
And shall a boy of mine own breed too, of mine own blood,
One crooked stick--

_The._ Pray take your way, and thrive in't,
I'le quit your house; if taint or black dishonour
Light on ye, 'tis your own, I have no share in't.
Yet if it do fall out so, as I fear it,
And partly find it too--

_Ar._ Hast thou no reverence?
No dutie in thee?

_The._ This shall shew I obey ye:
I dare not stay: I would have shew'd my love too,
And that you ask as duty, with my life Sir,
Had you but thought me worthy of your hazards,
Which heaven preserve ye from, and keep the Duke too:
And there's an end of my wishes, God be with ye. [_Exit._

_Ar._ Stubborn, yet full of that we all love, honesty.

_Enter_ Burris.

Lord _Burris_, where's the Duke?

_Bur._ In the great chamber Sir,
And there stayes till he see you, ye 'have a fine house here.

_Ar._ A poor contented lodge, unfit for his presence,
Yet all the joy it hath.

_Bur._ I hope a great one, and for your good, brave Sir.

_Ar._ I thank ye Lord:
And now my service to the Duke.

_Bur._ I'le wait on ye. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ Duke, Boroskey, _Gent. and Attendants_.

_Duke._ May this be credited?

_Bor._ Disgrace me else,
And never more with favour look upon me.

_Duke._ It seems impossible.

_Bor._ It cannot chuse Sir,
Till your own eyes behold it; but that it is so,
And that by this means the too haughtie Souldier
Has been so cramm'd and fed, he cares not for ye;
Believe, or let me perish: Let your eyes
As you observe the house, but where I point it,
Make stay, and take a view, and then you have found it.

_Enter_ Archas, Burris, _2 Daughters, and Servant_.

_Du._ I'le follow your direction: welcome _Archas_,
You are welcome home brave Lord, we are come to visit ye,
And thank ye for your service.

_Ar._ 'Twas so poor Sir,
In true respect of what I owe your Highness,
It merits nothing.

_Du._ Are these fair ones yours, Lord?

_Ar._ Their Mother made me think so Sir.

_Du._ Stand up Ladies:
Beshrew my heart they are fair ones; methinks fitter
The lustre of the Court, than thus live darken'd:
I would see your house Lord _Archas_, it appears to me
A handsom pile.

_Ar._ 'Tis neat but no great structure;
I'le be your Graces guide, give me the keyes there.

_Du._ Lead on, we'l follow ye: begin with the Gallery,
I think that's one.

_Arc._ 'Tis so, and't please ye, Sir,
The rest above are lodgings all.

_Du._ Go on, Sir. [_Exeunt._

SCENE IV.

_Enter_ Theodore, Putskey, _and Ancient_.

_Puts._ The Duke gone thither, do you say?

_The._ Yes marry do I,
And all the Ducklings too; but what they'll do there--

_Puts._ I hope they'll crown his service.

_The._ With a Custard;
This is no weather for rewards: they crown his service?
Rather they go to shave his Crown: I was rated
As if I had been a Dog had worried Sheep, out of doors,
For making but a doubt.

_Puts._ They must now grace him.

_The._ Mark but the end.

_Anc._ I am sure they should reward him, they cannot want him.

_The._ They that want honesty, want any thing.

_Puts._ The Duke is so noble in his own thoughts.

_The._ That I grant ye,
If those might only sway him: but 'tis most certain,
So many new born Flies his light gave life to,
Buzze in his beams, Flesh-flies, and Butterflies,
Hornets, and humming Scarabs, that not one honey Bee
That's loaden with true labour, and brings home
Encrease and Credit, can 'scape rifling,
And what she sucks for sweet, they turn to bitterness.

_Anc._ Shall we go see what they do, and talk our mind to 'em?

_Puts._ That we have done too much, and to no purpose.

_Anc._ Shall we be hang'd for him?
I have a great mind to be hang'd now
For doing some brave thing for him; a worse end will take me,
And for an action of no worth; not honour him?
Upon my Conscience, even the Devil, the very Devil
(Not to belie him) thinks him an honest man,
I am sure he has sent him souls any time these twenty years,
Able to furnish all his Fish-markets.

_The._ Leave thy talking,
And come, let's go to dinner and drink to him,
We shall hear more ere supper time: if he be honour'd,
He has deserv'd it well, and we shall fight for't:
If he be ruin'd, so, we know the worst then,
And for my self, I'll meet it.

_Puts._ I ne'r fear it. [_Exeunt._

SCENE V.

_Enter Duke_, Archas, Boroskey, Burris, _Gentlemen, and
Attendants_.

_Du._ They are handsome rooms all, well contriv'd and fitted,
Full of convenience, the prospect's excellent.

_Arc._ Now will your Grace pass down, and do me but the honour
To taste a Countrey Banquet?

_Du._ What room's that?
I would see all now; what conveyance has it?
I see you have kept the best part yet; pray open it.

_Arc._ Ha! I misdoubted this: 'tis of no receipt, Sir,
For your eyes most unfit--

_Du._I long to see it,
Because I would judge of the whole piece: some excellent painting,
Or some rare spoils you would keep to entertain me
Another time, I know.

_A[r]c._ In troth there is not,
Nor any thing worth your sight; below I have
Some Fountains, and some Ponds.

_Du._ I would see this now.

_Ar._ _Boroskie_, thou art a Knave; it contains nothing
But rubbish from the other rooms and unnecessaries:
Will't please you see a strange Clock?

_Du._ This or nothing: [_Little Trunk ready._
Why should you bar it up thus with defences
Above the rest, unless it contain'd something
More excellent, and curious of keeping?
Open't, for I will see it.

_Arc._ The Keys are lost, Sir:
Does your Grace think if it were fit for you,
I could be so unmannerly?

_Du._ I will see it, and either shew it--

_Arc._ Good Sir--

_Du._ Thank ye, _Archas_,
You shew your love abundantly,
Do I use to entreat thus? force it open.

_Bur._ That were inhospitable; you are his Guest, Sir,
And with his greatest joy, to entertain ye.

_Du._ Hold thy peace, Fool; will ye open it?

_Arc._ Sir, I cannot.
I must not if I could.

_Du._ Go, break it open.

_Arc._ I must withstand that force: Be not too rash, Gentlemen.

_Du._ Unarm him first, then if he be not obstinate
Preserve his life.

_Arc._ I thank your Grace, I take it;
And now take you the Keys, go in, and see, Sir;
There feed your eyes with wonder, and thank that Traytor,
That thing that sells his faith for favour. [_Exit Duke._

_Bur._ Sir, what moves ye?

_Arc._ I have kept mine pure: Lord _Burris_, there's a _Judas_,
That for a smile will sell ye all: a Gentleman?
The Devil has more truth, and has maintain'd it;
A Whores heart more belief in't.

_Enter Duke._

_Du._ What's all this, _Archas_?
I cannot blame you to conceal it so,
This most inestimable Treasure.

_Ar._ Yours Sir.

_Du._ Nor do I wonder now the Souldier sleights me.

_Arc._ Be not deceiv'd; he has had no favour here, Sir,
Nor had you known this now, but for that Pick-thank,
The lost man in his faith, he has reveal'd it,
To suck a little honey from ye has betray'd it.
I swear he smiles upon me, and forsworn too,
Thou crackt, uncurrant Lord: I'll tell ye all, Sir:
Your Sire, before his death, knowing your temper,
To be as bounteous as the air, and open,
As flowing as the Sea to all that follow'd ye,
Your great mind fit for War and Glory, thriftily
Like a great Husband to preserve your actions,
Collected all this treasure; to our trusts,
To mine I mean, and to that long-tongu'd Lord's there,
He gave the knowledg and the charge of all this,
Upon his death-Bed too: And on the Sacrament
He swore us thus, never to let this Treasure
Part from our secret keepings, till no hope
Of Subject could relieve ye, all your own wasted,
No help of those that lov'd ye could supply ye,
And then some great exploit a foot; my honesty
I would have kept till I had made this useful;
I shew'd it, and I stood it to the tempest,
And useful to the end 'twas left: I am cozen'd,
And so are you too, if you spend this vainly;
This Worm that crept into ye has abus'd ye,
Abus'd your fathers care, abus'd his Faith too:
Nor can this mass of money make him man more,
A flea'd Dog has more soul, an Ape more honesty;
All mine ye have amongst it, farewel that,
I cannot part with't nobler; my heart's clear,
My Conscience smooth as that, no rub upon't:
But O thy Hell!

_Bor._ I seek no Heaven from you, Sir.

_Arc._ Thy gnawing Hell, _Boroskey_, it will find thee:
Would ye heap Coals upon his head has wrong'd ye,
Has ruin'd your estate? give him this money,
Melt it into his mouth.

_Du._ What little Trunk's that?
That there o'th' top, that's lockt?

_Bor._ You'll find it rich, Sir,
Richer I think than all.

_Arc._ You were not covetous,
Nor wont to weave your thoughts with such a courseness;
Pray rack not Honesty.

_Bor._ Be sure you see it.

_Du._ Bring out the Trunk.

_Enter with the Trunk._

_Arc._ You'll find that treasure too,
All I have left me now.

_Du._ What's this, a poor Gown?
And this a piece of _Seneca_?

_Arc._ Yes sure, Sir,
More worth than all your Gold, yet ye have enough on't,
And of a Mine far purer, and more precious;
This sells no friends, nor searches into counsels,
And yet all counsel, and all friends live here, Sir;
Betrays no Faith, yet handles all that's trusty:
Will't please you leave me this?

_Du._ With all my heart, Sir.

_Ar._ What says your Lordship to't?

_Bor._ I dare not rob ye.

_Arc._ Poor miserable men, you have rob'd your selves both;
This Gown, and this unvalu'd Treasure, your brave Father,
Found me a Child at School with, in his progress.
Where such a love he took to some few answers,
Unhappy Boyish toys hit in my head then,
That suddenly I made him, thus as I was,
(For here was all the Wealth I brought his Highness)
He carried me to Court, there bred me up,
Bestow'd his favours on me, taught me the Arms first,
With those an honest mind; I serv'd him truly,
And where he gave me trust, I think I fail'd not;
Let the World speak: I humbly thank your Highness,
You have done more, and nobler, eas'd mine age, Sir;
And to this care a fair _Quietus_ given,
Now to my Book again.

_Du._ You have your wish, Sir,
Let some bring off the treasure.

_Bor._ Some is his, Sir.

_Arc._ None, none, a poor unworthy reaper,
The Harvest is his Graces.

_Du._ Thank you, _Archas_.

_Arc._ But will not you repent, Lord? when this is gone
Where will your Lordship?--

_Bor._ Pray take you no care, Sir.

_Arc._ Does your Grace like my House?

_Du._ Wondrous well, _Archas_,
You have made me richly welcome.

_Arc._ I did my best, Sir.
Is there any thing else may please your Grace?

_Du._ Your Daughters
I had forgot, send them to Court.

_Arc._ How's that, Sir?

_Du._ I said your Daughters; see it done: I'll have 'em
Attend my Sister, _Archas_.

_Arc._ Thank your Highness.

_Du._ And suddenly. [_Exit._

_Arc._ Through all the ways I dare,
I'll serve your temper, though you try me far. [_Exit._

_Actus Tertius. Scena Prima._

_Enter_ Theodore, Putskey, _Ancient and Servant_.

_The._ I wonder we hear no news.

_Puts._ Here's your fathers servant,
He comes in haste too, now we shall know all, Sir.

_The._ How now?

_Ser._ I am glad I have met you, Sir; your father
Intreats you presently make haste unto him.

_The._ What news?

_Ser._ None of the best, Sir, I am asham'd to tell it,
Pray ask no more.

_The._ Did not I tell ye, Gentlemen?
Did not I prophesie? he's undone then.

_Ser._ Not so, Sir, but as near it--

_Puts._ There's no help now;
The Army's scatter'd all, through discontent,
Not to be rallied up in haste to help this.

_Anc._ Plague of the Devil; have ye watch'd your seasons?
We shall watch you ere long.

_The._ Farewel, there's no cure,
We must endure all now: I know what I'll do.
[_Exeunt_ Theodore _and Servant_.

_Puts._ Nay, there's no striving, they have a hand upon us,
A heavy and a hard one.

_Anc._ Now I have it,
We have yet some Gentlemen, some Boys of mettle,
(What, are we bob'd thus still, colted, and carted?)
And one mad trick we'll have to shame these Vipers;
Shall I bless 'em?

_Puts._ Farewel; I have thought my way too. [_Exit._

_Anc._ Were never such rare Cries in Christendome,
As _Mosco_ shall afford: we'll live by fooling
Now fighting's gone, and they shall find and feel it. [_Exit._

SCENE II.

_Enter_ Archas, Honora, _and_ Viola.

_Ar._ No more, it must be so; do you think I would send ye,
Your father and your friend--

_Viol._ Pray Sir, be good to us,
Alas, we know no Court, nor seek that knowledge;
We are content with harmless things at home,
Children of your content, bred up in quiet,
Only to know our selves, to seek a Wisedome
From that we understand, easie and honest;
To make our actions worthy of your Honour,
Their ends as innocent as we begot 'em;
What shall we look for Sir, what shall we learn there,
That this more private sweetness cannot teach us?
Vertue was never built upon ambition,
Nor the Souls Beauties bred out of Bravery:
What a terrible Father would you seem to us,
Now you have moulded us, and wrought our tempers
To easie and obedient ways, uncrooked,
Where the fair mind can never lose nor loiter,
Now to divert our Natures, now to stem us
Roughly against the tide of all this treasure?
Would ye have us proud? 'tis sooner bred than buried;
Wickedly proud? for such things dwell at Court, Sir.

_Hon._ Would ye have your Children learn to forget their father,
And when he dies dance on his Monument?
Shall we seek Vertue in a Sattin Gown;
Embroider'd Vertue? Faith in a well-curl'd Feather?
And set our Credits to the tune of green sleeves?
This may be done; and if you like, it shall be.
You should have sent us thither when we were younger,
Our maiden-heads at a higher rate; our Innocence
Able to make a Mart indeed: we are now too old, Sir,
Perhaps they'll think too cunning too, and slight us;
Besides, we are altogether unprovided,
Unfurnisht utterly of the rules should guide us:
This Lord comes, licks his hand, and protests to me;
Compares my Beauty to a thousand fine things;
Mountains, and Fountains, Trees, and Stars, and Goblins;
Now have not I the faith for to believe him;
He offers me the honourable courtesie,
To lye with me all night, what a misery is this?
I am bred up so foolishly, alas, I dare not,
And how madly these things will shew there.

_Arc._ I send ye not,
Like parts infected, to draw more corruption;
Like Spiders to grow great, with growing evil:
With your own Vertues season'd, and my prayers,
The Card of goodness in your minds, that shows ye
When ye sail false; the needle toucht with honour,
That through the blackest storms, still points at happiness;
Your Bodies the tall barks, rib'd round with goodness,
Your Heavenly Souls the Pilots, thus I send you;
Thus I prepare your Voyage; sound before ye,
And ever as you sail through this Worlds Vanity,
Discover Sholes, Rocks, Quicksands, cry out to ye,
Like a good Master tack about for Honour:
The Court is Vertue's School, at least it should be;
Nearer the Sun the Mine lies, the metal's purer:
Be it granted, if the spring be once infected,
Those Branches that flow from him must run muddy;
Say you find some Sins there, and those no small ones,
And they like lazie fits begin to shake ye:
Say they affect your strengths, my happy Children,
Great things through greatest hazards are atchiev'd still,
And then they shine, then goodness has his glory,
His Crown fast rivetted, then time moves under,
Where, through the mist of errors, like the Sun,
Through thick and pitchy Clouds, he breaks out nobly.

_Hon._ I thank you Sir, you have made me half a Souldier,
I will to Court most willingly, most fondly.
And if there be such stirring things amongst 'em,
Such Travellers into _Virginia_
As Fame reports, if they can win me, take me;
I think I have a close Ward, and a sure one;
An honest mind I hope, 'tis petticoat-proof,
Chain-proof, and Jewel-proof; I know 'tis Gold-proof,
A Coach and four Horses cannot draw me from it:
As for your handsome Faces, and filed Tongues,
Curl'd Millers heads, I have another word for them,
And yet I'll flatter too, as fast as they do,
And lye, but not as lewdly; Come, be valiant, Sister,
She that dares not stand the push o'th' Court, dares nothing,
And yet come off ungraced: Sir, like you,
We both affect great dangers now, and the World shall see
All glory lies not in Mans Victorie.

_Arc._ Mine own _Honora_.

_Viol._ I am very fearful,
Would I were stronger built: you would have me honest?

_Arc._ Or not at all my _Viola_.

_Viol._ I'll think on't,
For 'tis no easie promise, and live there:
Do you think we shall do well?

_Hon._ Why, what should aile us?

_Viol._ Certain they'll tempt us strongly; beside the glory
Which Women may affect, they are handsom Gentlemen,
Every part speaks: nor is it one denial,
Nor two, nor ten; from every look we give 'em,
They'll frame a hope; even from our prayers, promises.

_Hon._ Let 'em feed so, and be fat; there is no fear, wench,
I[f] thou beest fast to thy self.

_Viol._ I hope I shall be;
And your example will work more.

_Enter_ Theodore.

_Hon._ Thou shalt not want it.

_The._ How do you, Sir? can you lend a man an Angel?
I hear you let out money.

_Arc._ Very well, Sir,
You are pleasantly dispos'd: I am glad to see it.
Can you lend me your patience, and be rul'd by me?

_The._ Is't come to patience now?

_Arc._ Is't not a Vertue?

_The._ I know not: I ne'r found it so.

_Arc._ That's because
Thy anger ever knows, and not thy judgment.

_The._ I know you have been rifl'd.

_Arc._ Nothing less, Boy;
Lord, what opinions these vain People publish!
Rifl'd of what?

_The._ Study your Vertue, Patience,
It may get Mustard to your Meat. Why in such haste, Sir,
Sent ye for me?

_Arc._ For this end only, _Theodore_,
To wait upon your Sisters to the Court;
I am commanded they live there.

_The._ To th' Court, Sir?

_Arc._ To th' Court I say.

_The._ And must I wait upon 'em?

_Arc._ Yes, 'tis most fit you should, you are their Brother.

_The._ Is this the business? I had thought your mind, Sir,
Had been set forward on some noble action,
Something had truly stir'd ye. To th' Court with these?
Why, they are your Daughters, Sir.

_Arc._ All this I know, Sir.

_The._ The good old Woman on a Bed he threw:
To th' Court?

_Arc._ Thou art mad.

_The._ Nor drunk as you are:
Drunk with your duty, Sir: do you call it duty?
A pox of duty, what can these do there?
What should they do? Can ye look Babies, Sisters,
In the young Gallants eyes, and twirl their Band-strings?
Can ye ride out to air your selves? Pray Sir,
Be serious with me, do you speak this truly?

_Arc._ Why, didst thou never hear of Women
Yet at Court, Boy?

_The._ Yes, and good Women too, very good Women,
Excellent honest Women: but are you sure, Sir,
That these will prove so?

_Hon._ There's the danger, Brother.

_The._ God-a-mercy Wench, thou hast a grudging of it.

_Arc._ Now be you serious, Sir, and observe what I say,
Do it, and do it handsomly; go with 'em.

_The._ With all my heart, Sir; I am in no fault now;
If they be thought Whores for being in my Company;
Pray write upon their Backs, they are my Sisters,
And where I shall deliver 'em.

_Arc._ Ye are wondrous jocund,
But prithee tell me, art thou so lewd a Fellow?
I never knew thee fail a truth.

_The._ I am a Souldier,
And spell you what that means.

_Arc._ A Souldier?
What dost thou make of me?

_The._ Your Palate's down, Sir.

_Arc._ I thank ye, Sir.

_The._ Come, shall we to this matter?
You will to Court?

_Hon._ If you will please to honour us.

_The._ I'll honour ye, I warrant; I'll set ye off
With such a lustre, Wenches; alas poor _Viola_,
Thou art a fool, thou criest for eating white bread:
Be a good Huswife of thy tears, and save 'em,
Thou wilt have time enough to shed 'em, Sister.
Do you weep too? nay, then I'll fool no more.
Come worthy Sisters, since it must be so,
And since he thinks it fit to try your Vertues,
Be you as strong to truth, as I to guard ye,
And this old Gentleman shall have joy of ye. [_Exeunt._

SCENE III.

_Enter Duke, and_ Burris.

_Du._ _Burris_ take you ten thousand of those Crowns,
And those two Chains of Pearl they hold the richest,
I give 'em ye.

_Bur._ I humbly thank your Grace;
And may your great example work in me
That noble Charity to men more worthy,
And of more wants.

_Du._ You bear a good mind, _Burris_;
Take twenty thousand now: be not so modest,
It shall be so, I give 'em: go, there's my ring for't.

_Bur._ Heaven bless your Highness ever. [_Exit._

_Du._ You are honest.

_Enter_ Alinda, _and_ Putskey _at door_.

_Put._ They're coming now to Court, as fair as vertue:
Two brighter Stars ne'er rose here.

_Alin._ Peace, I have it,
And what my Art can do; the Duke--

_Put._ I am gone,
Remember. [_Exit._

_Alin._ I am counsell'd to the full, Sir.

_Duke._ My pretty Mistris, whither lyes your business?
How kindly I should take this, were it to me now?

_Alin._ I must confess immediately to your Grace,
At this time.

_Duke._ You have no address, I do believe ye,
I would ye had.

_Alin._ 'Twere too much boldness, Sir,
Upon so little knowledge, less deserving.

_Duke._ You'll make a perfect Courtier.

_Alin._ A very poor one.

_Duke._ A very fair one, sweet; come hither to me.
What killing eyes this Wench has! in his glory
Not the bright Sun, when the _Sirian_ Star reigns,
Shines half so fiery.

_Alin._ Why does your Grace so view me?
Nothing but common handsomness dwells here, Sir,
Scarce that: your Grace is pleas'd to mock my meanness.

_Duke._ Thou shalt not go: I do not lie unto thee,
In my eye thou appear'st--

_Alin._ Dim not the sight, Sir,
I am too dull an object.

_Duke._ Canst thou love me?
Canst thou love him will honour thee?

_Alin._ I can love,
And love as you do too: but 'twill not shew well:
Or if it do shew here where all light lustres,
Tinsel affections make a glorious glistering,
'Twill halt i'th' handsom way.

_Duke._ Are ye so cunning?
Dost think I love not truly?

_Alin._ No, ye cannot,
You never travel'd that way yet: pray pardon me,
I prate so boldly to you.

_Duke._ There's no harm done:
But what's your reason, sweet?

_Alin._ I would tell your Grace,
But happily--

_Duke._ It shall be pleasing to me.

_Alin._ I should love you again, and then you would hate me.
With all my service I should follow ye,
And through all dangers.

_Duke._ This would more provoke me,
More make me see thy worths,
More make me meet 'em.

_Alin._ You should do so, if ye did well and truly:
But though ye be a Prince, and have power in ye,
Power of example too, ye have fail'd and falter'd.

_Duke._ Give me example where?

_Alin._ You had a Mistris,
Oh Heaven, so bright, so brave a dame, so lovely,
In all her life so true!

_Duke._ A Mistris?

_Alin._ That serv'd you with that constancy, that care,
That lov'd your will, and woo'd it too.

_Duke._ What Mistris?

_Alin._ That nurs'd your honour up, held fast your vertue,
And when she kist encreas'd, not stole your goodness.

_Duke._ And I neglected her?

_Alin._ Lost her, forsook her,
Wantonly flung her off.

_Duke._ What was her name?

_Alin._ Her name as lovely as her self, as noble,
And in it all that's excellent.

_Duke._ What was it?

_Alin._ Her name was _Beau-desert_:
Do you know her now, Sir?

_Duke._ _Beau-desert_? I do not remember--

_Alin._ I know you do not;
Yet she has a plainer name; Lord _Archas_ service;
Do you yet remember her? there was a Mistris
Fairer than Woman, far fonder to you, Sir,
Than Mothers to their first-born joyes: Can you love?
Dare you profess that truth to me a stranger,
A thing of no regard, no name, no lustre,
When your most noble love you have neglected,
A beauty all the world would woo and honour?
Would you have me credit this? think you can love me,
And hold ye constant, when I have read this story?
Is't possible you should ever favour me,
To a slight pleasure prove a friend, and fast too,
When, where you were most ty'd, most bound to benefit,
Bound by the chains of honesty and honour,
You have broke and boldly too? I am a weak one,
Arm'd only with my fears: I beseech your Grace
Tempt me no further.

_Du._ Who taught you this Lesson?

_Alin._ Woful experience, Sir: if you seek a fair one,
Worthy your love, if yet you have that perfect,
Two Daughters of his ruin'd vertue now
Arrive at Court, excellent fair indeed, Sir,
But this will be the Plague on't, they're excellent honest.

_Enter_ Olympia _and_ Petesca _privately_.

_Du._ I love thy face.

_Alin._ Upon my life ye cannot:
I do not love it my self, Sir, 'tis a lewd one,
So truly ill Art cannot mend it; but if 'twere handsome,
At least if I thought so, you should hear me talk, Sir,
In a new strain; and though ye are a Prince,
Make ye Petition to me too, and wait my answers;
Yet o' my Conscience I should pity ye,
After some ten years siege.

_Du._ Prethee do now.

_Alin._ What would ye do?

_Du._ Why I would lye with ye.

_Alin._ I do not think ye would.

_Du._ In troth I would Wench.
Here, take this Jewel.

_Alin._ Out upon't, that's scurvy.
Nay, if we do, sure we'll do for good fellowship,
For pure love, or nothing: thus you shall be sure, Sir,
You shall not pay too dear for't.

_Du._ Sure I cannot.

_Alin._ By'r Lady but ye may: when ye have found me able
To do your work well, ye may pay my wages.

_Pet._ Why does your Grace start back?

_Olym._ I ha' seen that shakes me:
Chills all my bloud: O where is faith or goodness?
_Alinda_ thou art false, false, false thou fair one,
Wickedness false; and (wo is me) I see it.
For ever false.

_Pet._ I am glad 't has taken thus right. [_Exeunt._

_Alin._ I'le go ask my Lady, Sir.

_Du._ What?

_Alin._ Whether I shall lye with ye, or no: If I find her willing--
For look ye Sir, I have sworn, while I am in her service--
('Twas a rash Oath I must confess.)

_Du._ Thou mockst me.

_Alin._ Why, would ye lye with me, if I were willing?
Would you abuse my weakness?

_Du._ I would piece it,
And make it stronger.

_Alin._ I humbly thank your highness,
When you piece me, you must piece me to my Coffin:
When you have got my Maiden-head, I take it,
'Tis not an inch of an Apes tail will restore it,
I love ye, and I honour ye, but this way
I'le neither love nor serve ye.
Heaven change your mind, Sir. [_Exit._

_Duke._ And thine too:
For it must be chang'd, it shall be. [_Exit._

SCENE IV.

_Enter_ Boroskie, Burris, Theodore, Viola _and_ Honora.

_Bor._ They are goodly Gentlewomen.

_Bur._ They are,
Wondrous sweet Women both.

_Theo._ Does your Lordship like 'em?
They are my Sisters, Sir; good lusty Lasses,
They'll do their labour well, I warrant ye,
You'll find no Bed-straw here, Sir.

_Hon._ Thank ye Brother.

_The._ This is not so strongly built: but she is good mettle,
Of a good stirring strain too: she goes tith, Sir.

_Enter two Gentlemen._

Here they be, Gentlemen, must make ye merry,
The toyes you wot of: do you like their complexions?
They be no Moors: what think ye of this hand, Gentlemen?
Here's a white Altar for your sacrifice:
A thousand kisses here. Nay, keep off yet Gentlemen,
Let's start first, and have fair play: what would ye give now
To turn the Globe up, and find the rich _Moluccas_?
To pass the straights? here (do ye itch) by St _Nicholas_,
Here's that will make ye scratch and claw,
Claw my fine Gentlemen, move ye in divers sorts:
Pray ye let me request ye, to forget
To say your prayers, whilest these are Courtiers;
Or if ye needs will think of Heaven, let it be no higher
Than their eyes.

_Bor._ How will ye have 'em bestow'd, Sir?

_Theo._ Even how your Lordship please,
So you do not bake 'em.

_Bor._ Bake 'em?

_Theo._ They are too high a meat that way, they run to gelly.
But if you'll have 'em for your own diet, take my counsel,
Stew 'em between two Feather-beds.

_Bur._ Please you Colonel
To let 'em wait upon the Princess?

_Theo._ Yes, Sir,
And thank your honour too: but then happily,
These noble Gentlemen shall have no access to 'em,
And to have 'em buy new Cloaths, study new faces,
And keep a stinking stir with themselves for nothing,
'Twill not be well i'faith: they have kept their bodies,
And been at charge for Bathes: do you see that shirt there?
Weigh but the moral meaning, 'twill be grievous:
Alas, I brought 'em to delight these Gentlemen,
I weigh their wants by mine: I brought 'em wholesome,
Wholesome, and young my Lord, and two such blessings
They will not light upon again in ten years.

_Bor._ 'Tis fit they wait upon her.

_Theo._ They are fit for any thing:
They'll wait upon a man, they are not bashful,
Carry his Cloak, or unty his points, or any thing,
Drink drunk, and take Tobacco; the familiar'st fools--
This wench will leap over Stools too, and sound a Trumpet,
Wrastle, and pitch the Bar; they are finely brought up.

_Bor._ Ladies, ye are bound to your Brother,
And have much cause to thank him:
I'le ease ye of this charge, and to the Princess,
So please you, I'le attend 'em.

_Theo._ Thank your Lordship:
If there be e're a private corner as ye go, Sir,
A foolish lobbie out o'th' way, make danger,
Try what they are, try--

_Bor._ Ye are a merry Gentleman.

_The._ I would fain be your honours kinsman.

_Bor._ Ye are too curst, Sir.

_The._ Farewel wenches, keep close your ports, y'are washt else.

_Hon._ Brother, bestow your fears where they are needful.
[_Exit_ Boros. Honor. Viol.

_The._ _Honor_ thy name is, and I hope thy Nature.
Go after, Gentlemen, go, get a snatch if you can,
Yond' old _Erra Pater_ will never please 'em.
Alas I brought 'em for you, but see the luck on't,
I swear I meant as honestly toward ye--
Nay do not cry good Gentlemen: a little counsel
Will do no harm: they'll walk abroad i'th' Evenings,
Ye may surprize 'em easily, they wear no Pistols.
Set down your minds in Metre, flowing Metre,
And get some good old linnen Woman to deliver it,
That has the trick on't: you cannot fail:
Farewel Gentlemen. [_Exeunt Gent._

_Bur._ You have frighted off these flesh-flies.

_The._ Flesh-flies indeed my Lord.

_Enter a Servant._

And it must be very stinking flesh they will not seize on.

_Serv._ Your Lordship bid me bring this Casket.

_Bur._ Yes, Good Colonel
Commend me to your worthy Father, and as a pledge
He ever holds my love, and service to him,
Deliver him this poor, but hearty token,
And where I may be his--

_The._ Ye are too noble;
A wonder here my Lord, that dare be honest,
When all men hold it vitious: I shall deliver it,
And with it your most noble love. Your servant. [_Ex._ Bur.
Were there but two more such at Court, 'twere Sainted,
This will buy Brawn this Christmas yet, and Muscadine. [_Ex._

SCENE V.

_Enter Ancient, crying Brooms, and after him severally,
four Souldiers, crying other things._ Boroskie _and Gent,
over the Stage observing them_.