Chapter X: Part 10

_Jul._ You have look'd on me,
When (if there be belief in Womens words
Spoken in tears) you swore you lov'd to do so.

_Lel._ Oh me, my heart!

_Ang._ Now, _Julio_, play the man,
Or such another O me will undo thee:
Would I had any thing to keep me busie,
I might not hear her; think but what she is,
Or I doubt mainly, I shall be i'th' mash too.

_Jul._ 'Pray speak again.

_Lel._ Where is my Woman?

_Wom._ Here.

_Ang._ Mercy upon me! what a face she has!
Would it were vail'd again.

_Lel._ Why did you let
This flattering man in to me? did not I
Charge thee to keep me from his eyes again,
As carefully as thou wouldst keep thine own?
Thou hast brought me poyson in a shape of Heaven,
Whose violence will break the hearts of all,
Of all weak Women, as it hath done mine,
That are such fools to love, and look upon him.
Good Sir, be gone, you know not what an ease
Your absence is.

_Ang._ By Heaven she is a wonder,
I cannot tell what 'tis, but I am [s]quamish.

_Jul._ Though I desire to be here more than Heaven,
As I am now, yet if my sight offend you,
So much I love to be commanded by you,
That I will go; farewel--

_Lel._ I should say something
E're you depart, and I would have you hear me;
But why should I speak to a man that hates me,
And will but laugh at any thing I suffer?

_Jul._ If this be hate--

_Lel._ Away, away, deceiver.

_Jul._ Now help me, _Angelo_!

_Ang._ I am worse than thou art.

_Lel._ Such tears as those might make another Woman
Believe thee honest, _Julio_, almost me,
That know their ends, for I confess they stir me.

_Ang._ What will become of me? I cannot go now
If you would hang me, from her; O brave Eye!
Steal me away, [for Gods sake] _Julio_.

_Jul._ Alas, poor man! I am lost again too, strangely.

_Lel._ No, I will sooner trust a Crocodile
When he sheds tears, for he kills suddenly,
And ends our cares at once; or any thing
That's evil to our Natures, than a man;
I find there is no end of his deceivings,
Nor no avoiding 'em, if we give way;
I was requesting you to come no more
And mock me with your service, 'tis not well,
Nor honest, to abuse us so far; you may love too;
For though, I must confess, I am unworthy
Of your love every way; yet I would have you
Think I am somewhat too good to make sport of.

_Jul._ Will you believe me?

_Lel._ For your Vows and Oaths,
And such deceiving tears as you shed now,
I will, as you do, study to forget 'em.

_Jul._ Let me be most despis'd of men--

_Lel._ No more;
There is no new way left, by which your cunning
Shall once more hope to catch me; no, thou false man,
I will avoid thee, and for thy sake all
That bear thy stamp, as counterfeit in love,
For I am open ey'd again, and know thee;
Go, make some other weep, as I have done,
That dare believe thee; go, and swear to her
That is a stranger to thy cruelty,
And knows not yet what man is, and his lyings,
How thou di'st daily for her; pour it out
In thy best lamentations; put on sorrow,
As thou canst, to deceive an Angel, _Julio_,
And vow thy self into her heart, that when
I shall leave off to curse thee for thy falshood,
Still a forsaken Woman may be found,
To call to Heaven for vengeance.

_Ang._ From this hour,
I heartily despise all honest Women;
I care not if the World took knowledg on't,
I see there's nothing in them, but that folly
Of loving one man only; give me henceforth,
(Before the greatest Blessing can be thought of)
If this be one, a Whore; that's all I aim at.

_Jul._ Mistriss, the most offending man is heard
Before his sentence, why will you condemn me
E're I produce the truth to witness with me,
How innocent I am of all your angers?

_Lel._ There is no trusting of that tongue, I know't,
And how far if it be believ'd, it kills; no more, Sir.

_Jul._ It never lied to you; if it did,
'Twas only when it call'd you mild and gentle.

_Lel._ Good Sir, no more; make not my understanding,
After I have suffer'd thus much evil by you,
So poor to think I have not reach'd the end
Of all your forc'd affections; yet because
I once lov'd such a sorrow too too dearly,
As that would strive to be; I do forgive ye
Even heartily, as I would be forgiven,
For all your wrongs to me; my charity
Yet loves you so far, (though again I may not)
And wish when that time comes, you will love truly,
(If you can ever do so) you may find
The worthy fruit of your affections,
True love again, not my unhappy Harvest,
Which, like a fool, I sow'd in such a heart,
So dry and stony, that a thousand showers
From these two eyes, continually raining,
Could never ripen.

_Jul._ Y' have conquer'd me;
I did not think to yield, but make me now,
Even what you will, my _Lelia_, so I may
Be but so truly happy to enjoy you.

_Lel._ No, no, those fond imaginations,
Are dead and buried in me, let 'em rest.

_Jul._ I'll marry you.

_Ang._ The Devil thou wilt, _Julio_,
How that word waken'd me! come hither, friend,
Thou art a fool, look stedfastly upon her,
Though she be all that I know excellent,
As she appears, though I could fight for her,
And run through fire; though I am stark mad too
Never to be recover'd, though I would
Give all I had i'th' World to lye with her
Even to my naked soul, I am so far gone,
Yet, methinks still, we should not dote away
That that is something more than ours, our honours.
I would not have thee marry her by no means,
Yet I should do so; is she not a Whore?

_Jul._ She is; but such a one--

_Ang._ 'Tis true, she's excellent,
And when I well consider, _Julio_,
I see no reason we should be confin'd
In our affections; when all Creatures else
Enjoy still where they like.

_Jul._ And so will I then.

_Lel._ He's fast enough I hope now, if I hold him.

_Ang._ You must not do so though, now I consider
Better what 'tis.

_Jul._ Do not consider, _Angelo_,
For I must do it.

_Ang._ No, I'll kill thee first,
I love thee so well, that the worms shall have thee
Before this Woman, friend.

_Jul._ It was your counsel.

_Ang._ As I was a Knave,
Not as I lov'd thee.

_Jul._ All this is lost upon me, _Angelo_,
For I must have her; I will marry ye
When ye please: pray look better on me.

_Ang._ Nay then no more, friend; farewel, _Julio_,
I have so much discretion left me yet
To know, and tell thee, thou art miserable.

_Jul._ Stay, thou art more than she, and now I find it.

_Lel._ Is he so?

_Jul._ Mistriss.

_Lel._ No, I'll see thee starv'd first. [_Exit_ Lelia.

_Jul._ Friend.

_Ang._ Fly her as I do, _Julio_, she's a Witch.

_Jul._ Beat me away then, I shall grow here still else.

_Ang._ That were the way to have me grow there with thee,
Farewel for ever. [_Exit_ Angelo.

_Jul._ Stay, I am uncharm'd,
Farewel thou cursed house, from this hour be
More hated of me than a Leprosie. [_Exit_ Julio.

_Enter_ Lelia.

_Lel._ Both gone? a plague upon 'em both,
Am I deceiv'd again? Oh, I would rail
And follow 'em, but I fear the spight of people,
Till I have emptied all my gall; the next
I seize upon shall pay their follies
To the last penny; This will work me worse,
He that comes next, by Heav'n shall feel their curse. [_Exit._

SCENE V.

_Enter_ Jacomo _at one door_, Fabricio _at another_.

_Fab._ O, ye are a sweet youth, so uncivilly
To rail, and run away!

_Jac._ O! are you there, Sir?
I am glad I have found ye, you have not now your Ladies,
To shew your wit before.

_Fab._ Thou wou'lt not, wou'lt 'ou?

_Jac._ What a sweet youth I am, as you have made me,
You shall know presently.

_Fab._ Put up your Sword,
I have seen it often, 'tis a Fox.

_Jac._ It is so,
And you shall feel it too; will you dispatch, Sir?
And leave your mirth out? or I shall take occasion
To beat ye, and disgrace ye too.

_Fab._ Well, since there is no other way to deal with you,
Let's see your Sword, I am sure you scorn all odds,
I will fight with you--

_Jac._ How now? [_They measure, and_ Fab. _gets his Sword_.

_Fab._ Nay, stand out,
Or by this light, I'll make ye.

_Jac._ This is scurvy,
And out of fear done.

_Fab._ No, Sir, out of judgment,
For he that deals with thee, thou'rt grown so boysterous,
Must have more wits, or more lives than another,
Or always be in Armour, or inchanted,
Or he is miserable.

_Jac._ Your end of this, Sir?

_Fab._ My end is only mirth to laugh at thee,
Which now I'll do in safety; ha, ha, ha.

_Jac. 'S heart!_ then I am grown ridiculous.

_Fab._ Thou art,
And wilt be shortly sport for little Children,
If thou continuest this rude stubborness.

_Jac._ O God, for any thing that had an edge!

_Fab._ Ha, ha, ha.

_Jac._ Fye, what a shame it is,
To have a Lubber shew his teeth!

_Fab._ Ha, ha.

_Jac._ Why dost thou laugh at me, thou wretched fellow?
Speak with a Pox; and look ye render me
Just such a reason--

_Fab._ I shall dye with laughing.

_Jac._ As no man can find fault with; I shall have
Another Sword, I shall, ye flearing Puppy.

_Fab._ Does not this testiness shew finely in thee?
Once more take heed of Children, if they find thee,
They'll break up School to bear thee Company,
Thou wilt be such a pastime, and whoot at thee,
And call thee Bloody-Bones, and Spade, and Spit-fire,
And Gaffer Mad-man; and go by _Jeronimo_,
And will with a wisp, and come aloft, and crack rope,
And old Saint _Dennis_ with the dudgeon Codpiss!
And twenty such names.

_Jac._ No, I think they will not.

_Fab._ Yes, but they will; and Nurses still their Children
Only with thee, and here take him, _Jacomo_.

_Jac._ God's precious, that I were but over thee
One Steeple height, I would fall and break thy Neck.

_Fab._ This is the reason I laugh at thee,
And while thou art thus, will do; tell me one thing.

_Jac._ I wonder how thou durst thus question me;
Prithee restore my Sword.

_Fab._ Tell me but one thing,
And it may be I will; Nay Sir, keep out.

_Jac._ Well, I will be your fool now, speak your mind, Sir.

_Fab._ Art thou not breeding teeth?

_Jac._ How? Teeth?

_Fab._ Yes, teeth, thou wouldst not be so froward else.

_Jac._ Teeth?

_Fab._ Come, 'Twill make thee
A little rheumatick, but that's all one,
We'll have a Bib, for spoiling of thy Doublet;
And a fring'd Muckender hang at thy Girdle,
I'll be thy Nurse, and get a Coral for thee,
And a fine Ring of Bells.

_Jac._ 'Faith, this is somewhat
Too much, _Fabricio_, to your friend that loves you;
Methinks your goodness rather should invent
A way to make my follies less, than breed 'em;
I should have been more moderate to you,
But I see ye despise me.

_Fab._ Now I love ye,
There, take your Sword: continue so; I dare not
Stay now to try your patience, soon I'll meet ye,
And as you love your honours, and your state,
Redeem your self well to the Gentlewoman,
Farewel till soon. [_Exit_ Fabricio.

_Jac._ Well, I shall think of this. [_Exit_ Jacomo.

SCENE [VI].

_Enter Host_, Piso, _and Boy with a Glass of Wine_.

_Pis._ Nothing i'th' World, but a dry'd Tongue or two--

_Host._ Taste him, and tell me.

_Pis._ Is a valiant wine,
This must be mine, Host.

_Host._ This shall be _ipse_,
Oh, he's a devilish biting wine, a Tyrant
Where he lays hold, Sir, this is he that scorns
Small Beer should quench him; or a foolish Caudle
Bring him to Bed; no, if he flinch I'll shame him,
And draw him out to mull amongst old Midwives.

_Piso._ There is a Souldier, I would have thee better
Above the rest, because he thinks there's no man
Can give him drink enough.

_Host._ What kind of man?

_Pis._ That thou mayst know him perfectly, he's one
Of a left-handed making, a lank thing;
As if his Belly were ta'n up with straw
To hunt a match.

_Host._ Has he no Beard to shew him?

_Pis._ 'Faith, but a little, yet enough to note him,
Which grows in parcels, here and there a remnant;
And that thou mayst not miss him, he is one
That wears his forehead in a velvet scabbard.

_Host._ That note's enough, he's mine, I'll fuddle him,
Or lye i'th' suds; you will be here too?

_Pis._ Yes, 'Till soon, farewel, and bear up.

_Host._ If I do not,
Say I am recreant, I'll get things ready.

_Actus Quartus. Scena Prima._

_Enter_ Julio, _and_ Angelo.

_Jul._ 'Tis strange thou should'st be thus, with thy discretion.

_Ang._ I am sure I am so.

_Jul._ I am well you see.

_Ang._ Keep your self warm then, and go home, & sleep,
And pray [to God] thou mayst continue so;
Would I had gone to th' Devil of an arrant,
When I was made a fool to see her; Leave me,
I am not fit for conversation.

_Jul._ Why, thou art worse than I was.

_Ang._ Therefore leave me,
The nature of my sickness is not eas'd
By company or counsel, I am mad,
And if you follow me with questions,
Shall shew my self so.

_Jul._ This is more than errour.

_Ang._ 'Pray be content, that you have made me thus,
And do not wonder at me.

_Jul._ Let me know, but what you mean to do, and I am gone.
I would be loth to leave you thus else.

_Ang._ Nothing
That needs your fear, that is sufficient;
Farewel, and pray for me.

_Jul._ I would not leave you.

_Ang._ You must, and shall.

_Jul._ I will then, would yond' Woman
Had been ten fathom under ground, when first
I saw her eyes.

_Ang._ Yet she had been dangerous,
For to some wealthy Rock of precious stone,
Or mine of Gold, as tempting, her fair Body
Might have been turn'd, which once found out by labour,
And brought to use, having her Spells within it,
Might have corrupted States, and ruin'd Kingdoms,
Which had been fearful, (Friend) go, when I see thee
Next, I will be as thou art, or no more.
'Pray do not follow me, you'll make me angry.

_Jul._ Heav'n grant you may be right again.

_Ang._ Amen. [_Exeunt._

SCENE II.

_Enter Tavern-Boys_, &c.

_Boy._ Score a gallon of Sack, and a pint of Olives to the Unicorn.

_Above, within._ Why drawer?

_Boy._ Anon, anon.

_Another Boy._ Look into the Nags-head there.

_2 Boy._ Score a quart of Claret to the Bar,
And a pound of Sausages into the Flower-pot.

_Enter first Servant with Wine._

_1 Serv._ The Devil's in their throats; anon, anon.

_Enter second Servant._

_2 Ser._ Mull a pint of Sack there for the women in the
Flower-deluce, and put in ginger enough, they belch like potguns,
And _Robin_ fetch Tobacco for the Peacock, they will not be
Drunk till mid-night else: how now, how does my Master?

_2 Boy._ Faith he lyes drawing on a pace.

_1 Boy._ That's an ill sign.

_2 Boy._ And fumbles with the pots too.

_1 Boy._ Then there's no way but one with him.

_2 Boy._ All the rest,
Except the Captain, are in _Limbo patrum_,
Where they lye sod in sack.

_1 Boy._ Does he bear up still?

_2 Boy._ Afore the wind still, with his lights up bravely,
All he takes in I think he turns to Juleps,
Or h'as a world of Stowage in his belly,
The rest look all like fire-drakes, and lye scatter'd
Like rushes round about the room. My Master
Is now the loving'st man, I think, above ground.

_1 Boy._ Would he were always drunk then.

_Within._ Drawer.

_2 Boy._ Anon, anon Sir.

_1 Boy._ And swears I shall be free to morrow, and so weeps
And calls upon my Mistris.

_2 Boy._ Then he's right.

_1 Boy._ And swears the Captain must lye this night with her
And bad me break it to her with discretion,
That he may leave an issue after him,
Able to entertain a _Dutch Ambassador_,
And tells him feelingly how sweet she is,
And how he stole her from her friends i'th' Country;
And brought her up disguiz'd with the Carriers,
And was nine nights bereaving her her maidenhead,
And the tenth got a drawer, here they come.

_Enter_ Jacomo, _Host_, Lod. Piso.

_Within cry drawer._ Anon, anon, speak to the Tyger, _Peter_.

_Host._ There's my Bells boys, my silver Bell.

_Piso._ Would he were hang'd
As high as I could ring him.

_Host._ Captain.

_Jac._ Hoe Boy.

_Lod. Robin_, sufficient single Beer, as cold as crystal,
Quench _Robin_, quench.

_1 Boy._ I am gone Sir.

_Host._ Shall we bear up still? Captain how I love thee!
Sweet Captain let me kiss thee, by this hand
I love thee next to Malmsey in a morning,
Of all things transitory.

_Jac._ I love thee too, as far as I can love a fat man.

_Host._ Do'st thou Captain?
Sweetly? and heartily?

_Jac._ With all my heart Boy.

_Host._ Then welcom death, come close mine eyes sweet Captain
Thou shalt have all.

_Jac._ What shall your wife have then?

_Host._ Why she shall have besides my blessing, and a silver spoon,
Enough to keep her stirring in the world,
Three little Children, one of them was mine
Upon my conscience, th' other two are Pagans.

_Jac._ 'Twere good she had a little foolish mony,
To rub the time away with.

_Host._ Not a rag,
Not a _Deniere_, no, let her spin a Gods name:
And raise her house again.

_Jac._ Thou shalt not dye though:
Boy see your Master safe delivered,
He's ready to lye in.

_Host._ Good night.

_Jac._ Good morrow,
Drink till the Cow come home, 'tis all pay'd boyes.

_Lod._ A pox of Sack.

_Host._ Marry [God] bless my Buts, Sack is a Jewel,
'Tis comfortable, Gentlemen.

_Jac._ More Beer boy,
Very sufficient single Beer.

_Boy._ Here Sir.
How is it Gentlemen?

_Jac._ But ev'n so, so.

_Host._ Go before finely _Robin_, and prepare
My wife, bid her be right and streight, I come boy.
And Sirrah, if they quarrel, let 'em use
Their own discretions, by all means, and stir not,
And he that's kill'd shall be as sweetly buried;
Captain, adieu, adieu sweet bully Captain,
One kiss before I dye, one kiss.

_Jac._ Farewel Boy.

_Host._ All my sweet boys farewel. [_Exit Host._

_Lod._ Go sleep, you are drunk.

_Ja._ Come gentlemen, I'le see you at your lodging,
You look not lustily, a quart more.

_Lod._ No Boy.

_Piso._ Get us a Torch.

_Boy._ 'Tis day Sir.

_Jac._ That's all one.

_Piso._ Are not those the stars, thou scurvy Boy?

_Lod._ Is not Charles-wain there, tell me that, there?

_Jac._ Yes;
I have paid 'em truly: do not vex him Sirrah.

_Piso._ Confess it Boy, or as I live I'le beat
Mid-night into thy brains.

_Boy._ I do confess it.

_Piso._ Then live, and draw more small Beer presently.

_Jac._ Come Boyes, let's hug together, and be loving,
And sing, and do brave things cheerly my hearts,
A pox o' being sad; now could I fly
And turn the world about upon my finger,
Come ye shall love me, I am an honest fellow:
Hang care and fortune, we are friends.

_Lod._ No Captain.

_Jac._ Do not you love me? I love you two dearly.

_Piso._ No by no means; you are a fighting Captain,
And kill up such poor people as we are, by th' dozens.

_Lod._ As they kill flyes with Fox-tails, Captain.

_Jac._ Well Sir.

_Lod._ Me thinks now as I stand, the Captain shews
To be a very mercifull young man.
(And pre'thee _Piso_, let me have thy opinion).

_Piso._ Then he shall have mercy, that merciful is,
Or all the Painters are Apocrypha.

_Jac._ I am glad you have your wits yet, will ye go?

_Piso._ You had best say we are drunk.

_Jac._ Ye are.

_Lod._ Ye lye.

_Jac._ Y'are rascals, drunken rascals.

_Piso._ 'Tis sufficient.

_Jac._ And now I'le tell you why, before I beat ye,
You have been tampring any time these three days,
Thus to disgrace me.

_Piso._ That's a lye too.

_Jac._ Well Sir,
Yet I thank fate I have turn'd your points on you,
For which I'le spare ye somewhat, half a beating.

_Piso._ I'le make you fart fire Captain, by this hand,
And ye provoke, do not provoke I'de wish you.

_Jac._ How do you like this?

_Lod._ Sure I am inchanted.

_Piso._ Stay till I draw.

_Jac._ Dispatch then, I am angry.

_Piso._ And thou shalt see how suddenly I'll kill thee.

_Jac._ Thou darst not draw, ye cold, tame, mangy Cowards,
Ye drunken Rogues, can nothing make you valiant?
Not wine, nor beating?

_Lod._ If this may be suffer'd,
'Tis very well.

_Jac._ Go there's your way, go and sleep:
I have pity on you, you shall have the rest
To morrow when we meet.

_Piso._ Come _Lodowick_,
He's monstrous drunk now, there's no talking with him.

_Jac._ I am so; when I am sober, I'le do more
Boy where's mine Host? [_Ex._ Lod. _and_ Piso.

_Boy._ He's on his bed asleep Sir. [_Ex._ Boy.

_Jac._ Let him alone then: now am I high proof
For any action, now could I fight bravely,
And charge into a wild fire; or I could love
Any man living now, or any woman,
Or indeed any creature that loves Sack
Extreamly, monstrously; I am so loving,
Just at this instant, that I might be brought
I feel it, with a little labour, now to talk
With a Justice of peace, that to my nature
I hate next an ill Sword: I will do
Some strange brave thing now, and I have it here:
Pray Heaven the air keep out; I feel it buzzing. [_Exit._

SCENE III.

_Enter_ Frederick, Frank, Clora.

_Clora._ She loves him too much, that's the plain truth _Frederick_,
For which if I might be believ'd, I think her
A strange forgetter of her self; there's _Julio_,
Or twenty more----

_Fred._ In your eye I believe you,
But credit me the Captain is a man,
Lay but his rough affections by, as worthy.

_Clara._ So is a resty Jade a horse of service,
If he would leave his nature; give me one
By your leave Sir to make a husband of
Not to be wean'd, when I should marry him;
Me thinks a man is misery enough.

_Fred._ You are too bitter,
I would not have him worse.
Yet I shall see you hamper'd one day Lady,
I do not doubt it, for this heresie.

_Clo._ I'le burn before; come pre'thee leave this sadness;
This walking by thy self to see the Devil,
This mumps, this Lachrymæ, this love in sippets;
It fits thee like a French-hood.

_Fra._ Does it so?
I am sure it fits thee to be ever talking,
And nothing to the purpose, take up quickly;
Thy wit will founder of all four else wench,
If thou hold'st this pace; take up when I bid thee.

_Clora._ Before your Brother, fy?

_Fred._ I can endure it.

_Enter_ Jacomo.

_Clo._ Here's Raw-head come again; Lord how he looks!
Pray we 'scape with broken pates.

_Fra._ Were I he,
Thou should'st not want thy wish, he has been drinking,
Has he not _Frederick_?

_Fred._ Yes, but do not find it.

_Clor._ Peace and let's hear his wisdom.

_Fred._ You will mad him.

_Jac._ I am somewhat bold, but that's all one.

_Clor._ A short and pithy saying of a Souldier.

_Fra._ A[s] I live
Thou art a strange mad wench.

_Clor._ To make a Parson.

_Jac._ Ladyes I mean to kiss ye.

_Clora._ How he wipes his mouth like a young Preacher;
We shall have it.

_Jac._ In order as you lye before me; first
I'le begin with you.

_Fra._ With me Sir?

_Jac._ Yes.

_Fra._ If you will promise me to kiss in ease,
I care not if I venture.

_Jac._ I will kiss according to mine own inventions
As I shall see cause; sweetly I would wish you,
I love ye.

_Fra._ Do you Sir?

_Jac._ Yes indeed do I,
Would I could tell you how.

_Fra._ I would you would Sir.

_Jac._ I would to Heaven I could, but 'tis sufficient,
I love you with my heart.

_Fra._ Alas poor heart.

_Jac._ And I am sorry; but we'l talk of that
Hereafter, if it please Heaven.

_Fra._ Ev'n when you will Sir.

_Clor._ He's dismal drunk, would he were muzled.

_Jac._ You
I take it are the next.

_Fra._ Go to him fool.

_Clor._ Not I, he will bite me.

_Jac._ When wit? when?

_Clor._ Good Captain.

_Jac._ Nay, and you play bo-peep; I'le ha' no mercy
But catch as catch may.

_Fred._ Nay, I'le not defend ye.

_Clor._ Good Captain do not hurt me, I am sorry
That e're I anger'd ye.

_Jac._ I'le tew you for't
By this hand wit, unless you kiss discreetly.

_Clor._ No more Sir.

_Jac._ Yes a little more sweet wit,
One tast more o' your office: go thy wayes
With thy small kettle Drums; upon my conscience
Thou art the best, that e're man laid his leg o'er.

_Clor._ He smells just like a Cellar,
Fye upon him.

_Jac._ Sweet Lady now to you.

_Clor._ For loves sake kiss him.

_Fred._ I shall not keep my countenance.

_Fra._ Trye pre'thee.

_Jac._ Pray be not coy sweet woman, for I'le kiss ye,
I am blunt
But you must pardon me.

_Clor._ O God, my sides.

_All._ Ha, ha, ha, ha.

_Jac._ Why ha, ha, ha? why laugh?
Why all this noise sweet Ladyes?

_Clor._ Lusty _Laurence_,
See what a Gentlewoman you have saluted;
Pray God she prove not quick.

_Fred._ Where were thine eyes
To take me for a woman? ha, ha, ha.

_Jac._ Who art 'a, art 'a mortal?

_Fred._ I am _Frederick_.

_Jac._ Then _Frederick_ is an Asse,
A scurvy _Frederick_ to laugh at me.

_Fra._ Sweet Captain.

_Jac._ Away woman;
Go stitch and serve, [God,] I despise thee woman,
And _Frederick_ shall be beaten; 'Sfut ye Rogue
Have you none else to make your puppies of, but me?

_Fred._ I pre'thee be more patient
There's no hurt done.

_Jac._ 'Sfut but there shall be, Scab.

_Clor._ Help, help for loves sake.

_Fra._ Who's within there?

_Fred._ So now you have made a fair hand.

_Jac._ Why?

_Fred._ You have kill'd me-- [_Fall as kill'd._

_Clor._ Call in some Officers, and stay the Captain.

_Jac._ You shall not need.

_Clor._ This is your drunkenness.

_Fra._ O me, unhappy Brother, _Frederick_,
Look but upon me, do not part so from me,
Set him a little higher, he is dead.

_Clora._ O villain, villain.

_Enter_ Fabritio, _and Servants_.

_Fab._ How now what's the matter?

_Fra._ O Sir my Brother! O my dearest Brother!

_Clor._ This drunken trowgh has kill'd him.

_Fab._ Kill'd him?

_Clor._ Yes.
For Heavens sake hang him quickly, he will do
Ev'ry day such a murder else, there is nothing
But a strong Gallows that can make him quiet,
I finde it in his nature too late.

_Fab._ Pray be quiet,
Let me come to him.

_Clor._ Some go for a Surgeon.

_Fra._ O what a wretched woman has he made me!
Let me alone good Sir.

_Fab._ To what a fortune,
Hast thou reserv'd thy life!

_Ja. Fabritio._

_Fab._ Never entreat me, for I will not know thee,
Nor utter one word for thee, unless it be
To have thee hang'd; for Heaven sake be more temperate.

_Jac._ I have a sword still, and I am a villain.

_Clor. &c._ Hold, hold, hold.

_Jac._ Ha?

_Clor._ Away with him for Heavens sake
He's too desperate for our enduring.

_Fab._ Come, you shall sleep, come strive not
I'le have it so, here take him to his lodging, and
See him laid before you part. [_Exeunt_ Jac. _with Ser_.

_Serv._ We will Sir.

_Fred._ Ne're wonder, I am living yet, and well,
I thank you Sister for your grief, pray keep it
Till I am fitter for it.

_Fab._ Do you live Sir?

_Fred._ Yes, but 'twas time to counterfeit, he was grown
To such a madness in his wine.

_Fab._ 'Twas well Sir,
You had that good respect unto his temper,
That no worse follow'd.

_Fred._ If I had stood him, certain one of us must have perish'd.
How now _Frank_?

_Fra._ Beshrew my heart I tremble like an aspin.

_Clor._ Let him come here no more for Heavens sake
Unless he be in chains.

_Fra._ I would fain see him
After he has slept, _Fabritio_, but to try
How he will be; chide him, and bring him back.

_Clor._ You'l never leave till you be worried with him.

_Fra._ Come Brother, we'l walk in, and laugh a little
To get this Fever off me.

_Clor._ Hang him squib,
Now could I grind him into priming powder.

_Fra._ Pray will you leave your fooling?

_Fab._ Come, all friends.

_Fra._ Thou art enough to make an age of men so,
Thou art so cross and peevish.

_Fab._ I will chide him,
And if he be not graceless, make him cry for't.

_Clor._ I would go a mile (to see him cry) in slippers
He would look so like a whey cheese.

_Fra._ Would we might see him once more.

_Fab._ If you dare
Venture a second tryal of his temper
I make no doubt to bring him.

_Clor._ No, good _Frank_,
Let him alone, I see his vein lyes only
For falling out at Wakes and Bear-baitings,
That may express him sturdy.

_Fab._ Now indeed
You are too sharp sweet Sister, for unless
It be this sin, which is enough to drown him,
I mean this sowrness, he's as brave a fellow,
As forward, and as understanding else
As any he that lives.

_Fra._ I do believe you,
And good Sir when you see him, if we have
Distasted his opinion any way,
Make peace again.

_Fab._ I will: I'le leave ye Ladies.

_Clor._ Take heed you had best, h'as sworn to pay you else.

_Fab._ I warrant you, I have been often threatned.

_Clor._ When he comes next, I'le have the cough or tooth-ach,
Or something that shall make me keep my chamber,
I love him so well.

_Fra._ Would you would keep your tongue. [_Exeunt._

SCENE IV.

_Enter_ Angelo.

_Ang._ I cannot keep from this ungodly woman,
This _Lelia_, whom I know too, yet am caught,
Her looks are nothing like her; would her faults
Were all in _Paris_ print upon her face,
_Cum Privilegio_, to use 'em still,
I would write an Epistle before it, on the inside of her masque
And dedicate it to the whore of _Babylon_, with a preface upon
Her nose to the gentle Reader; and they should be to be sold
At the sign of the whores head i'th' pottage pot, in what
Street you please. But all this helps not me;--I
Am made to be thus catch'd, past any redress, with a thing
I contemn too.
I have read _Epictetus_ twice over against the
Desire of these outward things, and still her face runs in
My mind, I went to say my prayers, and they were
So laid out o'th' way, that if I could find any prayers I
Had, I'm no Christian,
This is the door, and the short
Is, I must see her again.-- [_He knocks._

_Enter Maid._

_Maid._ Who's there?

_Ang._ 'Tis I, I would speak with your Mistriss.

_Maid._ Did she send for you?

_Ang._ No, what then? I would see her, prethee by thy leave.

_Maid._ Not by my leave; for she will not see you, but doth
hate you, and
Your friend, and doth wish you both hang'd, which being so proper
Men, is great pity, that you are not.

_Ang._ How's this?

_Maid._ For your sweet self in particular, who she resolves
perswaded your
Friend to neglect her, she deemeth whip-cord the most
Convenient unction for your back and shoulders.

_Ang._ Let me in, I'le satisfie her.

_Ma._ And if it shall happen that you are in doubt of these my
speeches,
Insomuch that you shall spend more time in arguing at the
Door, I am fully perswaded that my Mistris in person from
Above, will utter her mind more at large by way of
Urine upon your head, that it may sink the more soundly
Into your understanding faculties.

_Ang._ This is the strangest thing, good pretty soul, why dost
thou use me so?
I pray thee let me in sweet-heart.

_Maid._ Indeed I cannot sweet-heart.

_Ang._ Thou art a handsom one, and this crosseness do's not
become thee.

_Maid._ Alas I cannot help it.

_Ang._ Especially to me; thou knowst when I was here, I said I
lik'd thee of
All thy Mistriss Servants.

_Maid._ So did I you, though it be not my fortune to express
It at this present: for truly if you would cry, I cannot
Let you in.

_Ang._ Pox on her, I must go the down-right way: look you
Here is ten pound for you, let me speak with her.

_Maid._ I like your gold well, but it is a thing by heaven
I cannot do, she
Will not speak with you, especially at this time, she has affairs.

_Ang._ This makes her leave her jesting yet, but take it
And let me see her, bring me to a place
Where undiscerned of her self I may
Feed my desiring eyes but half an hour.

_Maid._ Why faith I think I can, and I will stretch my wits
And body too for gold: if you will swear as you
Are gentle, not to stir, or speak, where you shall
See or hear, now, or hereafter: give me your gold, I'le plant you.

_Ang._ Why, as I am a Gentleman, I will not.

_Maid._ Enough, quick, follow me. [_Ex._ Angelo, _and Maid_.

_Enter Servant_.

_S._ Why where's this maid, she has much care of her business, _Nell_?
I think she be sunk;--why _Nell_--whiew--

_Maid within._ What's the matter?

_Enter Maid._

_Ser._ I pray you heartily, come away, oh, come, come, the Gentleman
My Mistris invited, is coming down the street, and the banquet
Not yet brought out?-- [_They bring in the Banquet._

_Lel. within._ Nell, Sirrah.

_Maid._ I come forsooth.

_Ser._ Now must I walk: when there's any fleshly matters in hand, my
Mistris sends me of a four hours errand: but if I go not
About mine own bodily business as well as she, I am a Turk.

[_Exit Servant._

_Enter_ Father.

_Fa._ What, all wide open? 'Tis the way to sin
Doubtless; but I must on; the gates of Hell
Are not more passable than these; how they
Will be to get out, God knows, I must try.
'Tis very strange, if there be any life
Within this house, would it would shew it self.
What's here? a Banquet? and no mouth to eat,
Or bid me do it? this is something like
The entertainment of adventurous Knights
Entring enchanted Castles: For the manner
Though there be nothing dismal to be seen
Amazes me a little; what is meant
By this strange invitation? I will sound
My Daughters meaning e're I speak to her,
If it be possible, for by my voyce-- [_Musique._
She will discover me! hark, whence is this.

The SONG.

_Come hither you that love, and hear me sing_
_of joyes still growing_
_Green, fresh, and lusty, as the pride of Spring,_
_and ever blowing._

_Come hither youths that blush, and dare not know_
_what is desire,_
_And old men worse than you, that cannot blow_
_one spark of fire._
_And with the power of my enchanting Song,_
_Boyes shall be able men, and old men young._

_Enter_ Angelo, _above_.

_Come hither you that hope, and you that cry,_
_leave off complaining,_
_Youth, strength, and beauty, that shall never dye,_
_are here remaining._
_Come hither fools, and blush, you stay so long_
_from being blest,_
_And mad men worse than you, that suffer wrong,_
_Yet seek no rest._
_And in an hour, with my enchanting Song,_
_You shall be ever pleas'd, and young maids long._

_Enter_ Lelia, _and her Maid with a Night-gown and_
_Slippers_.

_Lel._ Sir you are welcom hither, as this kiss
Given with a larger freedom than the use
Of strangers will admit, shall witness to you.
Put the gown on him, in this chair sit down;
Give him his slippers: be not so amaz'd,
Here's to your health, and you shall feel this wine
Stir lively in me, in the dead of night,
Give him some wine; fall to your banquet Sir,
And let us grow in mirth; though I am set
Now thus far off you, yet four glasses hence
I will sit here,
And try, till both our bloods
Shoot up and down to find a passage out,
Then mouth to mouth will we walk up to bed,
And undress one another as we go;
Where both my treasure, body, and my soul
Are your's to be dispos'd of.

_Fa._ Umh, umh.--_Makes signs of his white head & [b]eard._

_Lel._ You are old,
Is that your meaning? why, you are to me
The greater novelty, all our fresh youth
Are daily offer'd me, though you perform
As you think little, yet you satisfie
My appetite: from your experience
I may learn something in the way of lust
I may be better for. But I can teach
These young ones;
But this day I did refuse
A paire of 'em, _Julio_, and _Angelo_,
And told them they were as they were
Raw fools and whelps. [Ang. _makes discontented signs_.

[Sidenote: _Maid laies her finger cross_
_her mouth to him._]

_Maid._ Pray God he speak not.

_Lel._ Why speak you not sweet sir?

_Fath._ Umh.--

[_Stops his ears, shews he is troubled with the Musick._

_Lel._ Peace there, that musique, now Sir speak
To me.

_Fath._ Umh.-- [_Points at the Maid._

_Lel._ Why? would you have her gone? you need not keep
Your freedom in for her; she knows my life
That she might write it;
Think she is a stone.
She is a kind of bawdy Confessor,
And will not utter secrets.

_Fath._ Umh.-- [_Points at her again._

_Lel._ Be gone then, since he needs will have it so,
'Tis all one. [_Exit Maid.--Fath. locks the door._
Is all now as you would? come meet me then,
And bring a thousand kisses on thy lips,
And I will rob thee of 'em, and yet leave
Thy lips as wealthy as they were before.

_Fath._ Yes, all is as I would but thou.

_Lel._ By Heaven 'tis my Father.-- [_Starts._

_Fath._ And I do beseech thee
Leave these unheard of lusts which worse become thee,
Than mocking of thy Father; let thine eyes
Reflect upon thy soul, and there behold
How loathed black it is; and whereas now
Thy face is heavenly fair, but thy mind foul,
Go but into thy Closet, and there cry
Till thou hast spoil'd that face, and thou shalt find
How excellent a change thou wilt have made
For inward beauty.

_Lel._ Though I know him now
To be my Father, never let me live
If my lust do abate,
I'le take upon me
To have known him all this while.

_Fath._ Look, dost thou know me?

_Lel._ I knew ye Sir before.

_Fath._ What didst thou do?

_Lel._ Knew you, and so unmov'dly have you born
All the sad crosses that I laid upon you,
With such a noble temper, which indeed
I purposely cast on you, to discern
Your carriage in calamity, and you
Have undergone 'em with that brave contempt,
That I have turn'd the reverence of a child
Into the hot affection of a Lover.
Nor can there on the earth be found but yours
A spirit fit to meet with mine.

_Fath._ A woman? thou art not sure.

_Lel._ Look and believe.

_Fath._ Thou art
Something created to succeed the Devil
When he grows weary of his envious course,
And compassing the World; but I believe thee
Thou didst but mean to try my patience,
And dost so still; but better be advis'd,
And make thy tryal with some other things,
That safelier will admit a dalliance;
And if it should be earnest, understand
How curst thou art, so far from Heaven,
That thou believ'st it not enough to damn alone,
Or with a stranger, but wouldst heap all sins
Unnatural upon this aged head,
And draw thy Father to thy Bed, and Hell.

_Lel._ You are deceiv'd, Sir, 'tis not against nature
For us to lye together; if you have
An Arrow of the same Tree with your Bow,
Is't more unnatural to shoot it there
Than in another? 'Tis our general nature
To procreate, as fire is to consume,
And it will trouble you to find a stick
The fire will turn from; If't be Natures will
We should not mix, she will discover to us
Some most apparent crossness, as our organs
Will not be fit; which, if we do perceive,
We'll leave, and think it is her pleasure
That we should deal with others.

_Fath._ The doors are fast, thou shalt not say a Prayer,
'Tis not Heavens will thou shouldst; when this is done
I'll kill my self, that never man may tell me
I got thee.

[_Father draws his Sword_, Angelo _discovers himself_.

_Lel._ I pray you, Sir, help her, for Heavens sake, Sir.

_Ang._ Hold, Reverend Sir, for honour of your Age.

_Fath._ Who's that?

_Ang._ For safety of your Soul, and of the Soul
Of that too-wicked woman yet to dye.

_Fath._ What art thou? and how cam'st thou to that place?

_Ang._ I am a man so strangely hither come,
That I have broke an Oath in speaking this,
But I believe 'twas better broke than kept,
And I desire your patience; let me in,
And I protest I will not hinder you
In any act you wish, more than by word,
If so I can perswade you, that I will not
Use violence, I'll throw my Sword down to you;
This house holds none but I, only a maid
Whom I will lock fast in as I come down.

_Fath._ I do not know thee, but thy tongue doth seem
To be acquainted with the truth so well,
That I will let thee in; throw down thy Sword.

_Ang._ There 'tis.

_Lel._ How came he there? I am betray'd to shame,
The fear of sudden death struck me all over
So violently, that I scarce have breath

[_He lets in_ Angelo, _and locks the Door_.

To speak yet; but I have it in my head,
And out it shall, that (Father) may perhaps
O'r-reach you yet.

_Enter Father, and_ Angelo.

_Fath._ Come, Sir, what is't you say?

_Lel._ My _Angelo_, by all the joys of love,
Thou art as welcome as these pliant arms
Twin'd round, and fast about thee, can perswade thee.

_Ang._ Away.

_Lel._ I was in such a fright before thou cam'st,
Yond' old mad fellow (it will make thee laugh,
Though it feared me) has talkt so wildly here--
Sirrah, he rush'd in at my doors, and swore
He was my Father, and I think believ'd it;
But that he had a Sword, and threatned me--
I' faith he was good sport, good, thrust him out,
That thou and I may kiss together; wilt thou?

_Fath._ Are you her Champion? and with these fair words
Got in to rescue her from me? [_Offers to run at him._

_Ang._ Hold, Sir,
I swear I do not harbour such a thought,
I speak it not, for that you have two Swords,
But for 'tis truth.

_Lel._ Two Swords, my _Angelo_?
Think this, that thou hast two young brawny arms
And ne'r a Sword, and he has two good Swords,
And ne'r an arm to use 'em; rush upon him,
I could have beaten him with this weak Body,
If I had had the spirit of a man.

_Ang._ Stand from me, and leave talking, or, by Heaven,
I'll trample thy last damning word out of thee.

_Fath._ Why do you hinder me then? stand away,
And I will rid her quickly.

_Lel._ Would I were
Clear of this business, yet I cannot pray.

_Ang._ Oh, be advis'd, why you were better kill her
If she were good, convey her from this place,
Where none but you, and such as you appoint,
May visit her; where, let her hear of nought
But death and damning, which she hath deserv'd,
Till she be truly, justly sorrowful,
And then lay mercy to her, who does know
But she may mend?

_Fath._ But whither should I bear her?

_Ang._ To my house,
'Tis large, and private, I will lend it you.

_Fath._ I thank you, Sir, and happily it fits
With some design I have: but how shall we
Convey her?

_Lel._ Will they carry me away?

_Fath._ For she will scratch and kick, and scream so loud
That people will be drawn to rescue her.

_Ang._ Why? none can hear her here but her own maid,
Who is as fast as she.

_Fath._ But in the street?

_Ang._ Why, we will take 'em both into the Kitchen,
There bind 'em, and then gag 'em, and then throw 'em
Into a Coach I'll bring to the back-door,
And hurry 'em away.

_Fath._ It shall be so,
I owe you much for this, and I may pay you,
There is your Sword, lay hold upon her quickly,
This way with me, thou disobedient Child,
Why does thy stubborn heart beat at thy breast?
Let it be still, for I will have it search'd
Till I have found a Well of living tears
Within it, that shall spring out of thine eyes,
And flow all o'r thy Body foul'd with sin,
Till it have wash'd it quite without a stain. [_They drag her._

_Lel._ Help, help, ah! ah!
Murther, I shall be murthered, I shall be murthered.

_Fath._ This helps thee not.

_Lel._ Basely murthered, basely.

_Fath._ I warrant you. [_Exeunt._

_Actus Quintus. Scena Prima._

_Enter_ Lodowick, _and_ Piso.

_Lod._ This roguey Captain has made fine work with us.

_Pis._ I would the Devil in a storm would carry him
Home to his Garrison again; I ake all over,
That I am sure of; certainly my Body
Is of a wild-fire, for my head rings backward,
Or else I have a morise in my brains.

_Lod._ I'll deal no more with Souldiers; well remembred,
Did not the Vision promise to appear
About this time again?

_Pis._ Yes, here he comes;
He's just on's word.

_Enter Father_.

_Fath._ O, they be here together,
She's penitent, and by my troth I stagger
Whether (as now she is) either of these
Two fools be worthy of her; yet because
Her youth is prone to fall again, ungovern'd,
And marriage now may stay her, one of 'em;
And _Piso_, since I understand him abler,
Shall be the man; the other bear the charges,
And willingly, as I will handle it.
I have a Ring here, which he shall believe
Is sent him from a woman I have thought of;
But e're I leave it, I'll have one of his
In pawn worth two on't; for I will not lose
By such a mess of sugar-sops as this is:
I am too old.

_Lod._ It moves again, let's meet it.

_Fath._ Now if I be not out, we shall have fine sport,
I am glad I have met you, Sir, so happily,
You do remember me I am sure.

_Lod._ I do, Sir.

_Pis._ This is a short præludium to a challenge.

_Fa._ I have a message, Sir, that much concerns you,
And for your special good; nay, you may hear too.

_Pis._ What should this fellow mean?

_Fath._ There is a Lady,
(How the poor thing begins to warm already)
Come to this town, (as yet a stranger here, Sir)
Fair, young, and rich, both in possessions,
And all the graces that make up a Woman,
A Widow, and a vertuous one; it works,
He needs no broth upon't.

_Lod._ What of her, Sir?

_Fath._ No more but this; she loves you.

_Lod._ Loves me?

_Fath._ Yes,
And with a strong affection, but a fair one,
If ye be wise and thankful ye are made; there's the whole matter.

_Lod._ I am sure I hear this.

_Fath._ Here is a Ring, Sir, of no little value;
Which after she had seen you at a window,
She bad me haste, and give it, when she blush'd
Like a blown Rose.

_Lod._ But pray, Sir, by your leave--Methinks
your years should promise no ill meaning.

_Fath._ I am no Bawd, nor Cheater, nor a Courser
Of broken-winded women; if you fear me,
I'll take my leave, and let my Lady use
A fellow of more form; an honester
I am sure she cannot.

_Lod._ Stay, you have confirm'd me,
Yet let me feel; you are in health?

_Fath._ I hope so,
My water's well enough, and my pulse.

_Lod._ Then
All may be excellent; pray pardon me,
For I am like a Boy that had found money,
Afraid I dream still.

_Pis._ Sir, what kind of woman?
Of what proportion is your Lady?

_Lod._ I.

_Fath._ I'll tell you presently her very Picture,
Do you know a woman in this town they call
(Stay, yes, it is so) _Leila_?

_Piso._ Not by sight.

_Fath._ Nor you, Sir?

_Lod._ Neither.

_Fath._ These are precious Rogues
To rail upon a woman they never saw;
So they would use their Kindred.

_Pis._ We have heard though
She is very fair and goodly.

_Fath._ Such another,
Just of the same Complexion, making, speech,
But a thought sweeter is my Lady.

_Lod._ Then
She must be excellent indeed.

_Fath._ Indeed she is,
And you will find it so; you do believe me?

_Lod._ Yes marry do I, and I am so alter'd--

_Fath._ Your happiness will alter any man:
Do not delay the time, Sir; at a house
Where _Don Valasco_ lay, the Spanish Seignior
(Which now is Seignior _Angelo's_) she is.

_Lod._ I know it.

[_Fath._] But before you shew your self,
Let it be night by all means, willingly
By day she would not have such Gallants seen
Repair unto her, 'tis her modesty.

_Lod._ I'll go and fit my self.

_Fath._ Do, and be sure
You send provision in, in full abundance,
Fit for the Marriage; for this night I know
She will be yours, Sir, have you never a token
Of worth to send her back again? you must,
She will expect it.

_Lod._ Yes, pray give her this.
And with it all I have; I am made for ever. [_Exit_ Lod.

_Pis._ Well, thou hast fools luck; should I live as long
As an old Oak, and say my prayers hourly,
I should not be the better of a penny;
I think the Devil be my ghostly father;
Upon my conscience I am full as handsome,
I am sure I have more wit, and more performance,
Which is a pretty matter.

_Fath._ Do you think, Sir,
That your friend, Seignior _Piso_, will be constant
Unto my Lady? you should know him well.

_Piso._ Who? Seignior _Piso_?

_Fath._ Yes, the Gentleman.

_Piso._ Why, you are wide, Sir.

_Fath._ Is not his name _Piso_?

_Piso._ No, mine is _Piso_.

_Fath._ How?

_Piso._ 'Tis indeed, Sir,
And his is _Lodowick_.

_Fath._ Then I am undone, Sir,
For I was sent at first to _Piso_; what a Rascal
Was I, so ignorantly to mistake you?

_Piso._ Peace,
There is no harm done yet.

_Fath._ Now 'tis too late,
I know my errour;
At turning of a Street,
For you were then upon the right hand of him,
You chang'd your places suddenly; where I
(Like a cross block-head) lost my memory;
What shall I do? my Lady utterly
Will put me from her favour.

_Piso._ Never fear it,
I'll be thy guard I warrant thee; O, O,
Am I at length reputed? for the Ring,
I'll fetch it back with a light vengeance from him;
H'ad better keep tame Devils than that Ring;
Art thou not Steward?

_Fath._ No.

_Pis._ Thou shalt be shortly.

_Fath._ Lord, how he takes it!

_Piso._ I'll go shift me streight;
Art t' sure [it] was to _Piso_?

_Fath._ O, too sure, Sir.