Chapter VII: Part 7

_Lop._ A wench, and we not know it?
And among us? where were our understandings?
I could have ghess'd unhappily: have had some feeling
In such a matter: Here are as pretty fellows,
At the discovery of such a Jigambob:
A handsome wench too! sure we have lost our faculties,
We have no motions: what should she do here, Sir?

_Rod._ That's it that troubles me: O that base rascal!
There lies the misery: how cunningly she quit him,
And how she urg'd! had ye been constant to me,
I ne're had suffer'd this.

_1 Out-l._ Ye might have hang'd him:
And would he had been hang'd, that's all we care for't:
So our hands had not don't.

_Rod._ She is gone again too,
And what care have ye for that? gone, and contemn'd me;
Master'd my will, and power, and now laughs at me.

_Lop._ The Devil that brought her hither, Sir I think
Has carryed her back again invisible,
For we ne're knew, nor heard of her departure.

_Jaq._ No living thing came this night through our watches.
She went with you.

_Rod._ Was by me till I slept,
But when I wak'd, and call'd: O my dull pate here,
If I had open'd this when it was given me,
This Roguy Box.

_Enter_ Alphonso, _and 2 Out-laws_.

_Lop._ We could but give it ye.

_Rod._ Pilgrim? a Pox o' Pilgrims, there the game goes,
There's all my fortune fled; I know it, I feel it.

_Al._ Bring me unto thy Captain: where's thy Captain?
I am founder'd, melted, some fairy thing or other
Has led me dancing; the Devil has haunted me
I'th' likeness of a voyce: give me thy Captain.

_2 Out-l._ He's here Sir, there he stands.

_Al._ How do'st thou Captain?
I have been fool'd and jaded, made a dog-bolt.
My Daughter's run away: I have been haunted too,
I have lost my horse; I am hungry, and out of my wits also.

_Rod._ Come in: I'le tell you what I know: strange things.
And take your ease; I'le follow her recovery,
These shall be yours the whil'st, and do ye service.

_Al._ Let me have drink enough: I am almost choak'd too.

_Rod._ You shall have any thing; what think you now, Souldiers?

_Jaq._ I think a woman, is a woman, that's any thing.
The next we take, we'l search a little nearer,
We'l not be boyed again with a pair of breeches. [_Exeunt._

SCENE II.

_Enter_ Juletta.

_Jul._ He's gone in here: This is _Roderigo's_ quarter,
And I'le be with him soon: I'le startle him,
A little better than I have done: all this long night
I have le[d] him out o'th' way, to try his patience,
And made him swear, and curse; and pray, and swear again,
And cry for anger; I made him leave his horse too,
Where he can never find him more; whistled to him,
And then he would run through thick and thin, to reach me,
And down in this ditch; up again, and shake him,
And swear some certain blessings: then into that bush
Pop goes his pate, and all his face is comb'd over,
And I sit laughing: a hundred tricks, I have serv'd him:
And I will double 'em, before I leave him;
I'le teach his anger to dispute with women.
But all this time, I cannot meet my Mistress,
I cannot come to comfort her; that grieves me,
For sure she is much afflicted: till I do,
I'le haunt thy Ghost _Alphonso_; I'le keep thee waking,
Yes, I must get a Drum: I am villanous weary,
And yet I'le trot about these villages
Till I have got my will, and then have at ye.
I'le make your anger drop out at your elbows e're I leave ye. [_Exit._

SCENE III.

_Enter_ Seberto, _and_ Curio.

_Seb._ 'Tis strange, in all the circuit we have ridden,
We cannot cross her: no way light upon her.

_Cur._ I do not think she is gone thus far, or this way,
For certain if she had, we should have reach'd her,
Made some discovery, heard some news; we have seen nothing.

_Seb._ Nor pass by any body that could promise any thing.
She is certainly disguis'd, her modesty
Durst never venture else.

_Cur._ Let her take any shape,
And let me see it once, I can distinguish it.

_Seb._ So should I think too: has not her Father found her?

_Cur._ No, I'le be hang'd then; he has no patience
Unless she light in's teeth, to look about him.
He guesses now, and chafes and frets like Tinsel.

_Seb._ Let him go on, he cannot live without it.
But keep her from him, heaven: where are we _Curio_?

_Cur._ In a wood I think, hang me if I know else.
And yet I have ridden all these coasts, at all hours,
And had an aim.

_Seb._ I would we had a guide.

_Cur._ And if I be not much awry _Seberto_,
Not far off should be _Roderigo's_ quarter,
For in this fastness if I be not cozen'd,
He and his out-laws live.

_Seb._ This is the place then

_Enter_ Alinda.

We appointed him to meet in.

_Cur._ Yes, I think so.

_Seb._ Would we could meet some living thing: what's that there?

_Cur._ A boy, I think, stay; why may not he direct us?

_Alin._ I am hungry, and I am weary, and I cannot find him.
Keep my wits Heaven, I feel 'em wavering,
O God my head.

_Seb._ Boy, dost thou hear, thou stripling?

_Alin._ Now they will tear me, torture me, now _Roderigo_
Will hang [him] without mercy; ha?

_Cur._ Come hither.
A very pretty boy: what place is this, child?
And whither dost thou travel? how he stares!
Some stubborn Master has abus'd the boy,
And beaten him: how he complains! whither goest thou?

_Alin._ I go to _Segovia_ Sir, to my sick Mother,
I have been taken here by drunken thieves,
And (O my bones!) I have been beaten Sir.
Mis-us'd, and rob'd: extreamly beaten Gentlemen,
O God, my side!

_Seb._ What beasts would use a boy thus?
Look up, and be of good cheer.

_Alin._ O, I cannot.
My back, my back, my back.

_Cur._ What thieves?

_Alin._ I know not.
But they call the Captain _Roderigo_.

_Cur._ Look ye,
I knew we were thereabouts.

_Seb._ Do'st thou want any thing?

_Alin._ Nothing but ease, but ease, Sir.

_Cur._ There's some mony,
And get thee to thy Mother.

_Alin._ I thank ye Gentlemen.

_Seb._ This was extreamly foul, to vex a child thus.
Come, let's along, we cannot lose our way now. [_Ex._

_Alin._ Though ye are honest men, I fear your fingers,
And glad I am got off; O how I tremble!
Send me but once within his arms dear fortune,
And then come all the world: what shall I do now?
'Tis almost night again, and where to lodge me,

_Enter_ Juletta.

Or get me meat, or any thing, I [k]now not.
These wild woods, and the fancies I have in me,
Will run me mad.

_Jul._ Boy, Boy.

_Alin._ More set to take me?

_Jul._ Do'st thou hear boy? thou pointer.

_Alin._ 'Tis a boy too,
A Lacky Boy: I need not fear his fierceness.

_Jul._ Canst thou beat a Drum?

_Alin._ A Drum?

_Jul._ This thing, a Drum here.
Didst thou never see a Drum? Canst thou make this grumble?

_Alin. Julettas_ face, and tongue; is she run mad too?
Here may be double craft: I have no skill in't.

_Jul._ I'le give thee a royal but to go along with me.

_Alin._ I care not for thy royal, I have other business,
Drum to thy self, and daunce to it.

_Jul._ Sirrah, Sirrah.
Thou scurvy Sirrah; thou snotty-nos'd scab, do'st thou hear me?
If I lay down my Drum.

_Enter_ Roderigo, _and two Out-laws_.

_Alin._ Here comes more Company,
I fear a plot, Heaven send me fairly from it. [_Exit._

_Jul._ Basto; who's here?

_Lop._ Captain, do you need me farther?

_Rod._ No not a foot: give me the gown: the sword now.

_Jul._ This is the Devil thief, and if he take me,
Woe be to my Gally gaskins.

_Lop._ Certain Sir,
She will take her patches off, and change her habit.

_Rod._ Let her do what she please: No, no _Alinda_
You cannot cozen me again in a Boys figure,
Nor hide the beauty of that face in patches,
But I shall know it.

_Jul._ A boy his face in patches?

_Rod._ Nor shall your tongue again bewitch mine anger,
If she be found i'th' woods, send me word presently,
And I'le return; she cannot be far gone yet:
If she be not, expect me, when ye see me;
Use all your service to my friend _Alphonso_,
And have a care to your business: farewel,
No more, farewel. [_Exeunt._

_Jul._ I am heartily glad thou art gone yet.
This boy in patches, was the boy came by me,
The very same, how hastily it shifted!
What a mop-eyed ass was I, I could not know her,
This must be she, this is she, now I remember her,
How loth she was to talk too, how she fear'd me:
I could now piss mine eyes out for meer anger:
I'le follow her, but who shall vex her Father then?
One flurt at him, and then I am for the voyage,
If I can cross the Captain too: Come Tabor. [_Exit._

SCENE IV.

_Enter_ Jaques, _and 1 Out-Law_.

_Jaq._ Are they all set?

_1 Out-l._ All, and each quarter quiet.

_Jaq._ Is the old man asleep?

_1 Out-l._ An hour agoe Sir.

_Jaq._ We must be very carefull in his absence,
And very watchfull.

_1 Out-l._ It concerns us nearly,
He will not be long from us.

_Jaq._ No, he cannot.

_1 Out-l._ A little heat of love, which he must wander out.

[_Drum a far off._

And then again: hark.

_Ja[q]._ What?

_1 Out-l._ 'Tis not the wind sure:
That's still and calm, no noise, nor flux of waters.

_Jaq._ I hear a Drum, I think.

_1 Out-l._ That, that;
It beats again now.

_Jaq._ Now it comes nearer: sure we are surprized, Sir;
Some from the Kings command: we are lost, we are dead all.

_1 Out-l._ Hark, hark, a charge now: my Captain has betray'd us,
And left us to this ruine, run away from us.

_Enter two Out-Laws._

_Lop._ Another beats o' that side.

_2 Out-l._ Fly, flie, _Jaques_,
We are taken in a toyle: snapt in a pitfal;
Methinks I feel a Sword already shave me.

_3 Out-l._ A thousand horse and foot, a thousand pioneers,
If we get under-ground, to fetch us out again;
And every one an Axe to cut the woods down.

_Lop._ This is the dismalst night-- [_Exit._

_Enter_ Alpho[n]so.

_Alp._ Where's my Nag now?
And what make I here to be hang'd? What Devil
Brought me into this danger? Is there ne'er a hole,
That I may creep in deep enough, and die quickly?
Ne'r an old ditch to choke in? I shall be taken
For their Commander now, their General,
And have a commanding Gallows set up for me
As high as a May-pole; and nasty Songs made on me,
Be printed with a Pint-pot and a Dagger.
They are all kill'd by this time: Can I pray?
Let me see that first: I have too much fear to be faithful.
Where's all my State now? I must go hunt for Daughters;
Daughters, and Damsels of the Lake, damned Daughters.
A hundred Crowns for a good tod of Hay,
Or a fine hollow Tree, that would contain me;
I hear 'em coming: I feel the nooze about me.

_Enter_ Seberto, Curio, _Out-laws, and_ Jaques.

_Seb._ Why do you fear, and fly? here are no Souldiers;
None from the King to vex ye.

_1 Out-l._ The Drum, the Drum, Sir.

_Cur._ I never saw such Pigeon-hearted people:
What Drum? what danger? who's that that shakes behind there?
Mercy upon me, Sir, why are ye fear'd thus?

_Alp._ Are we all kill'd, no mercy to be hoped for?
Am I not shot do you think?

_Seb._ You are strangely frighted,
Shot with a fiddle-stick: who's here to shoot ye?
A drum we saw indeed, a boy was beating it,
And hunting Squirrels by Moon-light.

_Lop._ Nothing else, Sir?

_Cur._ Not any thing: no other person stirring.

_Alp._ O that I had that boy: this is that Devil,
That fairy Rogue, that haunted me last night;
H'as sleeves like Dragons wings.

_Seb._ A little Foot-boy.

_Alp._ Come, let's go in, and let me get my cloaths on;
If ere I stay here more to be thus martyr'd--
Did ye not meet the wench?

_Seb._ No sure, we met her not.

_Alp._ She has been here in Boys apparel, Gentlemen,
A gallant thing, and famous for a Gentlewoman.
And all her face patcht over for discovery:
A Pilgrim too, and thereby hangs a circumstance,
That she hath plaid her master-prize, a rare one.
I came too short.

_Cur._ Such a young Boy we met, Sir.

_Alp._ In a gray Hat.

_Cur._ The same: his face all patcht too.

_Alp._ 'Twas she, a rot run with her; she, that rank she;
Walk in, I'le tell ye all, and then we'll part again,
But get some store of Wine: this fright sits here yet. [_Ex._

_Enter_ Juletta.

_Jul._ What a fright I have put 'em in; what a brave hurry.
If this do bolt him, I'le be with him again
With a new part, was never play'd; I'le ferk him.
As he hunts her, so I'le hunt him: I'le claw him.
Now will I see if I can cross her footing:
Yet still I'le watch his water, he shall pay for't;
And when he thinks most malice, and means worse,
I'le make him know the Mare's the better Horse. [_Exit._

SCENE V.

_Enter_ Pedro, _and a Gentleman_.

_Gent._ Ye are a stranger, Sir, and for humanity,
Being come within our walls, I would shew you something.
Ye have seen the Castle?

_Ped._ Yes Sir, 'tis a strong one,
And well maintain'd.

_Gent._ Why are you still thus sad, Sir?
How do ye like the walks?

_Ped._ They are very pleasant;
Your Town stands cool and sweet.

_Gent._ But that I would not
Affect you with more sadness, I could shew ye
A place worth view.

_Ped._ Shows seldom alter me, Sir;
Pray ye speak it, and then shew it.

_Gent._ 'Tis a house here
Where people of all sorts, that have been visited
With Lunacies, and Follies wait their cures,
There's fancies of a thousand stamps and fashions,
Like flies in several shapes buz round about ye,
And twice as many gestures; some of pity,
That it would make ye melt to see their passions:
And some as light again, that would content ye.
But I see, Sir, your temper is too modest,
Too much inclin'd to contemplation,
To meet with these?

_Ped._ You could not please me better;
And I beseech you, Sir, do me the honour
To let me wait upon ye.

_Gent._ Since ye are willing,
To me it shall be a pleasure to conduct ye.

_Ped._ I never had such a mind yet to see misery. [_Exe._

SCENE VI.

_Enter two Keepers._

_1 Keep._ Carry mad _Bess_ some meat, she roars like Thunder;
And tie the Parson short, the Moon's i'th' full,
H'as a thousand Pigs in's brains: Who looks to the Prentice?
Keep him from Women, he thinks h'as lost his Mistris;
And talk of no silk stuffs, 'twill run him horn mad.

_2 Keep._ The Justice keeps such a stir yonder with his Charges,
And such a coil with warrants.

_1 Keep._ Take away his Statutes;
The Devil has possest him in the likeness
Of penal Laws: keep him from _Aqua vitæ_,
For if that spirit creep into his _Quorum_,
He will commit us all: how is it with the Scholar?

_2 Keep._ For any thing I see, he's in his right wits.

_1 Keep._ Thou art an ass; in's right wits, goodman coxcomb?
As though any man durst be in's right wits, and be here.
It is as much as we dare be that keep 'em.

_Enter English madman._

_Engl._ Give me some drink.

_1 Keep._ O, there's the _English_ man.

_Engl._ Fill me a thousand pots, and froth 'em, froth 'em.
Down o' your knees, ye Rogues, and pledge me roundly;
One, two, three, and four; we shall all be merry within this hour.
To the great Turk.

_1 Keep._ Peace, peace thou Heathen drunkard;
These _English_ are so Malt-mad, there's no medling with 'em;
When they have a fruitful year of Barly there,
All the whole Island's thus.

_Engl._ A snuff, a snuff, a snuff.
A lewd notorious snuff: give't him again, boy.

_Enter she-fool._

_Fool._ God-ye-good even, Gaffer.

_2 Keep._ Who let the Fool loose?

_1 Keep._ If any of the mad-men take her, she is pepper'd,
They'll bounce her loins.

_Fool._ Will ye walk into the coal house?

_1 Keep._ She is as leacherous too as a she-Ferret.

_2 Keep._ Who a vengeance looks to her? go in _Kate_,
I'le give thee a fine Apple.

_Fool._ Will ye buss me?
And tickle me, and make me laugh?

_1 Keep._ I'le whip ye.

_Engl._ Fool, fool, come up to me fool.

_Fool._ Are ye peeping?

_Engl._ I'le get thee with five fools.

_Fool._ O fine, O dainty.

_Engl._ And thou shalt lie in [in] a horse-cloth, like a Lady.

_Fool._ And shall I have a Coach?

_Engl._ Drawn with four Turkeys,
And they shall tread thee too.

_Fool._ We shall have eggs then;
And shall I sit upon 'em?

_Engl._ I, I, and they shall be all addle,
And make an admirable Tanzey for the Devil.
Come, come away, I am taken with thy love fool,
And will mightily belabour thee.

_1 Keep._ How the fool bridles! how she twitters at him!
These _English_ men would stagger a wise woman.
If we should suffer her to have her will now,
We should have all the women in _Spain_ as mad as she here.

_2 Keep._ They would strive who should be most fool:
Away with her.

_Enter Master, three Gentlemen, a mad Scholar, and_ Pedro.

_Fool._ Pray ye stay a little: let's hear him sing, h'as a fine breast.

_1 Keep._ Here comes my Master; to the spit ye whore,
And stir no more abroad, but tend your business;
You shall have no more sops i'th' pan else, nor no Porridge:
Besides, I'le whip your breech.

_Fool._ I'le go in presently.

_1 Gent._ I'le assure ye, Sir, the Cardinal's angry with ye
For keeping this young man.

_Mast._ I am heartily sorry.
If ye allow him sound, pray ye take him with ye.

_1 Gent._ This is the place, and now observe their humours.

_2 Gent._ We can find nothing in him light, nor tainted;
No startings, nor no rubs, in all his answers,
In all his Letters nothing but discretion,
Learning, and handsome stile.

_Mast._ Be not deceived, Sir,
Mark but his look.

_1 Gent._ His grief, and his imprisonment
May stamp that there.

_Mast._ Pray talk with him again then.

_2 Gent._ That will be needless, we have tried him long enough,
And if he had a taint we should have met with't.
Yet to discharge your care--

_Ped._ A sober youth:
Pity so heavy a cross should light upon him.

_2 Gent._ You find no sickness?

_Schol._ None Sir, I thank Heaven,
Nor nothing that diverts my understanding.

_1 Gent._ Do you sleep a nights?

_Schol._ As sound, and sweet, as any man.

_2 Gent._ Have ye no fearful dreams?

_Schol._ Sometimes, as all have
That go to bed with raw and windy stomachs;
Else I am all one piece.

_1 Gent._ Is there no unkindness
You have conceiv'd from any friend or parent?
Or scorn from what ye lov'd?

_Schol._ No, truely Sir:
I never yet was master of a faith
So poor, and weak, to doubt my friend or kindred,
And what love is, unless it lie in learning
I think I am ignorant.

_1 Gent._ This man is perfect,
A civiller discourser I ne'r talk'd with.

_Mast._ You'l find it otherwise.

_2 Gent._ I must tell ye true, Sir,
I think ye keep him here to teach him madness.
Here's his discharge from my Lord Cardinal;
And come Sir, go with us.

_Schol._ I am bound unto ye,
And farewel Master.

_Master._ Farewel _Stephano_,
Alas poor man.

_1 Gent._ What flaws, and whirles of weather,
Or rather storms have been aloft these three daies;
How dark, and hot, and full of mutiny!
And still grows louder.

_Mast._ It has been stubborn weather.

_2 Gent._ Strange work at Sea, I fear me there's old tumbling.

_1 Gent._ Bless my old Unkles Bark, I have a venture.

_2 Gent._ And I more than I would wish to lose.

_Schol._ Do you fear?

_2 Gent._ Ha! how he looks!

_Mast._ Nay, mark him better Gentlemen.

_2 Gent._ Mercy upon me: how his eyes are altered!

_Mast._ Now tell me how ye like him: whether now
He be that perfect man ye credited?

_Schol._ Do's the Sea stagger ye?

_Mast._ Now ye have hit the nick.

_Schol._ Do ye fear the billows?

_1 Gent._ What ails him? who has stir'd him?

_Schol._ Be not shaken,
Nor let the singing of the storm shoot through ye,
Let it blow on, blow on: let the clouds wrastle,
And let the vapours of the earth turn mutinous,
The Sea in hideous mountains rise and tumble
Upon a Dolphins back, I'le make all tremble,
For I am _Neptune_.

_Mast._ Now what think ye of him?

_2 Gent._ Alas poor man.

_Schol._ Your Bark shall plough through all,
And not a Surge so saucy to disturb her.
I'le see her safe, my power shall sail before her.

_Down ye angry waters all,_
_Ye loud whistling whirlewinds fall;_
_Down ye proud Waves, ye storms cease;_
_I command ye, be at peace._
_Fright not with your churlish Notes,_
_Nor bruise the Keel of Bark that flotes:_
_No devouring Fish come nigh,_
_Nor Monster in my Empery,_
_Once shew his head, or terror bring;_
_But let the weary Saylor sing:_
_Amphitrite with white arms_
_Strike my Lute, I'le sing Charms._

_Mast._ He must have Musick now: I must observe him,
His fit will grow too full else. [_Musick, Song._

_2 Gent._ I must pity him.

_Mast._ Now he will in himself most quietly,
And clean forget all, as he had done nothing.

_1 Gent._ We are sorry, Sir: and we have seen a wonder;
From this hour we'll believe, and so we'll leave ye. [_Ex._

_Ped._ This was a strange fit.

_Mast._ Did ye mark him, Sir?

_Ped._ He might have cozen'd me with his behaviour.

_Mast._ Many have sworn him right, and I have thought so:
Yet on a sudden, from some word, or other,
When no man could expect a fit, he has flown out:
I dare not give him will.

_Enter_ Alinda.

_Ped._ Pray Heaven recover him.

_Alin._ Must I come in too?

_Mast._ No, my pretty Lad;
Keep in thy Chamber Boy; 'shalt have thy supper.

_Ped._ I pray ye what is he, Sir?

_Mast._ A strange Boy, that last night
Was found i'th' Town, a little craz'd, distracted,
And so sent hither.

_Ped._ How the pretty Knave looks,
And plays, and peeps upon me! sure such eyes
I have seen, and lov'd: what fair hands! certainly--

_Mast._ Good Sir, you'l make him worse.

_Ped._ I pray believe not.
Alas, why sho[u]ld I hurt him? how he smiles!
The very shape, and sweetness of _Alinda_:
Let me look once again: were it in such clothes
As when I saw her last; this must be she.
How tenderly it stroaks me!

_Mast._ Pray ye be mild Sir;
I must attend elsewhere. [_Exit._

_Ped._ Pray ye be secure Sir,
What would ye say? how my heart beats and trembles!
He holds me hard by th' hand; O my life, her flesh too!
I know not what to think: her tears, her true ones;
Pure orient tears: Hark, do you know me little one?

_Alin._ O _Pedro Pedro_!

_Ped._ O my soul!

_Gent._ What fit's this?
The Pilgrim's off the hooks too.

_Alin._ Let me hold thee,
And now come all the world, and all that hate me.

_Ped._ Be wise, and not discovered: O how I love ye!
How do ye now?

_Alin._ I have been miserable;
But your most vertuous eyes have cur'd me, _Pedro_:
Pray ye think it no immodesty, I kiss ye,
My head's wild still.

_Ped._ Be not so full of passion,
Nor do not hang so greedily upon me;
'Twill be ill taken.

_Alin._ Are ye weary of me?
I will hang here eternally, kiss ever,
And weep away for joy.

_Enter Master._

_Master._ I told ye Sir,
What ye would do: for shame do not afflict him;
You have drawn his fit upon him fearfully:
Either depart, and presently; I'le force ye else.
Who waits within?

_Enter two Keepers to fetch 'em off._

_Ped._ Alas good Sir.
This is the way never to hope recovery.

_Mast._ Stay but one minute more, I'le complain to the Governour,
Bring in the boy: do you see how he swells, and tears himself?
Is this your cure? Be gone; if the boy miscarry
Let me ne'r find you more, for I'le so hamper ye--

_Gent._ You were to blame: too rash.

_Ped._ Farewel for ever. [_Exeunt._

_Actus Quartus. Scena Prima._

_Enter_ Alphonso, _Gent._ Juletta.

_Gent._ You are now within a mile o'th' Town Sir: if my business
Would give me leave, I would turn and wait upon ye;
But for such Gentlemen as you enquire of,
Certain, I saw none such: But for the boy ye spoke of,
I will not say 'tis he, but such a one;
Just of that height.

_Alph._ In such clothes?

_Gent._ I much mistake else,
Was sent in th' other night, a little maddish,
And where such people wait their cures--

_Alph._ I understand ye.

_Gent._ There you may quickly know.

_Alph._ I thank ye Sir.

_Jul._ So do I too: and if there be such a place,
I ask no more: but you shall hear more of me,
She may be there, and you may play the tyrant;
I'le see what I can do: I am almost foundred
In following him; and yet I'le never leave him,
I'le crawl of all four first; my cause is meritorious,
And come what can come.

_Gent._ All you have told me is certain;
Complexion, and all else.

_Alph._ It may be she then;
And I'le so fumble her: is she grown mad now?
Is her blood set so high? I'le have her madded,
I'le have her worm'd.

_Jul._ Mark but the end, old Master,
If thou beest not sick o'th' Bots within these five hours,
And kickst and roar'st; I'le make ye fart fire, Signior.

_Enter_ Alinda, _as a fool_.

_Gent._ Here's one o'th' house, a fool, an idiot Sir;
May be she is going home; she'l be a guide to ye:
And so I kiss your hand. [_Exit._

_Alph._ I am your servant.

_Alin._ O now I am lost, lost, lost, Lord, how I tremble!
My Father, arm'd in all his hates and angers;
This is more misery than I have scap'd yet.

_Alph._ Fool, fool.

_Alin._ He knows me not; will ye give me two pence?
And gaffer, here's a Crow-flower, and a Dazie;
I have some pie in my pocket too.

_Alph._ This is an arrant fool,
An ignorant thing.

_Alin._ Believe so, and I am happy.

_Alph._ Dost thou dwell in _Sigovia_, fool?

_Alin._ No no, I dwell in Heaven.
And I have a fine little house, made of Marmalad.
And I am a lone woman, and I spin for Saint _Peter_;
I have a hundred little children, and they sing Psalms with me.

_Alp._ 'Tis pity this pretty thing should want understanding.
But why do I stand talking with a coxcombe?
If I do find her, if I light upon her,
I'le say no more. Is this the way to th' Town, fool?

_Alin._ You must go over the top of that high steeple, Gaffer.

_Alp._ A plague o' your fools face.

_Jul._ No, take her counsel.

_Alin._ And then you shall come to a River twenty mile over,
And twenty mile and ten: and then you must pray, Gaffer;
And still you must pray, and pray.

_Alp._ Pray Heaven deliver me
From such an ass, as thou art.

_Alin._ Amen, sweet Gaffer.
And fling a sop of Suger-cake into it;
And then you must leap in naked.

_Jul._ Would he would believe her.

_Alin._ And sink seven daies together; can ye sink gaffer?

_Alp._ Yes coxcomb, yes; prethee farewel: a pox on thee.
A plague o' that fool too, that set me upon thee.

_Alin._ And then I'le bring you a sup of Milk shall serve ye:
I am going to get Apples.

_Alp._ Go to th' Devil:
Was ever man tormented with a puppy thus?
Thou tell me news? thou be a guide?

_Alin._ And then Nunkle--

_Alph._ Prethee keep on thy way (good Naunt) I could rail now
These ten hours at mine own improvidence:
Get Apples, and be choak'd: farewel. [_Exit._

_Alin._ Farewel Nunkle.

_Jul._ I rejoyce in any thing that vexes him;
I shall love this fool extreamly for't:
Could I but see my Mistris now, to tell her
How I have truly, honestly wrought for her,
How I have worn my self away, to serve her.
Fool, there's a Royal for the sport thou mad'st me,
In crossing that old fool, that parted from thee.

_Alin._ Thou art honest sure; but yet thou must not see me:
I thank ye little Gentleman: Heaven bless ye
And I'le pray for ye too: pray ye keep this Nutmeg.
'Twas sent me from the Lady of the Mountain,
A golden Lady.

_Jul._ How prettily it prattles!

_Alin._ 'Tis very good to rub your understanding:
And so good night, the Moon's up.

_Jul._ Pretty innocent.

_Alin._ Now fortune, if thou darst do good, protect me. [_Exit._

_Jul._ I'll follow him to yond' Town; he shall not 'scape me.
Stay, I must counterfeit a Letter by the way first,
And one that must carry some credit with it; I am wide else,
And all this to no purpose that I aim at.
A Letter must be had, and neatly handled;
And then, if Goodwife Fortune do not fail me,
Have at his Skirts; I shall worse anger him
Than ever I have done, and worse torment him.
It does me good to think how I shall conjure him,
And crucifie his crabbedness; he's my Master,
But that's all one; I'll lay that on the left hand,
He would now persecute my harmless Mistriss,
A fault without forgiveness, as I take it;
And under that bold Banner flies my vengeance,
A meritorious War, and so I'll make it.
I'th' name of innocence, what's this the fool gave me?
She said 'twas good to rub my understanding.
What strange Concealment! Bread or Cheese, or a Chesnut?
Ha! 'tis a Ring, a pretty Ring, a right one;
A Ring I know too! the very same Ring;
O admirable Blockhead! O base Eyes!
A Ring my Mistriss took from me and wore it;
I know it by the Posie: [_Prick me, and heale me._]
None could deliver this, but she her self too;
Am I twice sand-blind? twice so near the Blessing
I would arrive at? and block-like never know it?
I am veng'ance angry, but that shall light on thee,
And heavily, and quickly, I pronounce it;
There are so many cross ways, there's no following her;
And yet I must not now; I hope she is right still,
For all her outward shew, for sure she knew me;
And in that hope, some few hours I'll forget her. [_Exit._

SCENE II.

_Enter_ Roderigo.

_Rod._ She is not to be recovered, which I vex at;
And he beyond my veng'ance, which torments me;
O! I am fool'd and sleighted, made a Rascal;
My hopes are flatter'd, as my present fortunes;
Why should I wander thus, and play the Coxcomb?
Tire out my peace and pleasure for a Girl?
A Girl that scorns me too? a thing that hates me?
And considered at the best, is but a short Breakfast
For a hot appetite: why should I walk and walk thus?
And fret my self, and travel like a Carrier,
And peep, and watch? want Meat, and Wine, to cherish me,
When thousand women may be had, ten thousand,
And thank me too, and I sit still: well, trim Beauty
And Chastity, and all that seem to ruine me,
Let me not take ye, let me not come near ye,
For I'll so trim ye, I'll so bustle with ye;
'Tis not the name of Virgin shall redeem ye,
I'll change that property: nor tears, nor angers;
I bear a hate about me scorns those follies.
To find this Villain too, for there's my main prize:
And if he snap me then.

_Enter_ Alinda.

_Alind._ Is not that _Pedro_?
'Tis he, 'tis he: O!

_Rod._ What art thou?

_Alind._ Ha? now, now, now,
O now most miserable.

_Rod._ What a Devil art thou?

_Alin._ No end of my misfortunes, Heaven?

_Rod._ What antick?
Speak Puppet, speak.

_Alind._ That habit to betray me?
Ye holy Saints, can ye see this?

_Rod._ It danceth;
The Devil in a Fools Coat, is he turn'd Innocent?
What mops and mows it makes! heigh! how it frisketh!
Is't not a Fairy, or some small Hobgoblin?
It has a mortal face, and I have a great mind to it,
But if it should prove the Devil then.

_Alin._ Come hither.

_Rod._ I think 'twill ravish me,
It is a handsome thing, but horribly Sun-burnt,
What's that it points at?

_Alin._ Dost thou see that star there,
That just above the Sun?
Prithee go thither, and light me this Tobacco,
And stop it with the horns o'th' Moon.

_Rod._ The thing's mad,
Abominably mad, her brains are butter'd,
Go sleep, fool, sleep.

_Alin._ Thou canst not sleep so sweetly;
For so I can say my Prayers, and then slumber.

_I am not proud, nor full of Wine,_
_This little Flower will make me fine;_
_Cruel in Heart, for I will cry,_
_If I see a Sparrow dye;_
_I am not watchful to do ill,_
_Nor glorious to pursue it still;_
_Nor pitiless to those that weep;_
_Such as are, bid them go sleep._

Do, do, do, and see if they can.

_Rod._ It said true.
I feel it sink into me forcibly:
Sure 'tis a kind of _Sibyl_, some mad Prophet;
I feel my wildness bound, and fetter'd in me.

_Alin._ Give me your hand, and I'll tell you what's your fortune.

_Rod._ Here, prithee speak.

_Alin._ Fye, fye, fye, fye, fye.
Wash your hands, and pare your nails, and look finely,
You shall never kiss the Kings Daughter else.

_Rod._ I wash 'em daily.

_Alin._ But still you foul 'em faster.

_Rod._ This goes nearer.

_Alin._ You'll have two Wives.

_Rod._ Two Wives?

_Alin._ I, two fine Gentlewomen,
Make much of 'em; for they'll stick close to you, Sir:
And these two, in two days.

_Rod._ That's a fine Riddle.

_Alin._ To day you shall wed sorrow,
And repentance will come to morrow.

_Rod._ Sure she's inspired.

_Alin._ I'll sing ye a fine Song, Sir,

_He called down his merry men all,_
_By one, by two, by three,_
William _would fain have been the first,_
_But now the last is he_.

_Rod._ This the meer Chronicle of my mishaps.

_Alin._ I'll bid you good ev'n, for my Boat stays for me yonder,
And I must sup with the Moon to Night in the _Mediterraneum_. [_Exit._

_Rod._ When fools and mad folks will be Tutors to me,
And feel my sores, yet I unsensible;
Sure it was set by Providence upon me
To steer my heart right, I am wondrous weary,
My thoughts too, which add more burthen to me;
I have been ill, and (which is worse) pursu'd it,
And still run on; I must think better, nobler,
And be another thing, or not at all.

_Enter four Pesants._

Still I grow heavier, heavier, Heaven defend me;
I'll lye down, and take rest; and goodness guard me.

_1 Pes._ We have 'scaped to day well; certain if the Out-laws
Had known we had been stirring, we had paid for't.

_2 Pes._ 'Plague on 'em, they have rob'd me thrice.

_3 Pes._ And me five times:

Beside they made my Daughter one of us too
An arrant Drum: O, they are the lewdest Rascals,
The Captain such a damn'd piece of iniquitie:
But we are far enough off on 'em, that's the best on't,
They cannot hear.

_4._ They'le come to me familiarly
And eat up all I have: drink up my wine too,
And if there be a Servant that contents 'em,
Let her keel hold, they'l give her Stowage enough:
We have no Children now, but Thieves, and Outlaws.
The very Brats in their Mothers bellies have their qualities.
They'l steal into the world.

_1._ Would we had some of 'em here.

_2._ I, o' that condition we could Master 'em,
They are sturdy knaves.

_3._ A Devil take their sturdiness,
We can neither keep our wives from 'em nor our States,
We pay the Rent, and they possess the benefit.

_1._ What's this lies here? is it drunk, or sober?
It sleeps, and soundly too.

_2._ 'Tis an old woman
That keeps sheep hereabouts: it turns, and stretches.

_4._ Do's she keep sheep with a sword?

_3._ It has a Beard too.

_1._ Peace, peace: it is the Devil _Roderigo_,
Peace of all hands, and look.

_2._ 'Tis he.

_3._ Speak softly.

_4._ Now we may fit him.

_3._ Stay, stay: let's be provident.

_1._ Kill him, and wake him then.

_4._ Let me come to him,
Ev'n one blow at his pate, if e're he wake more.

_3._ So, so, so, lay that by.

_2._ I must needs kill him,
It stands with my reputation.

_3._ Stand off, I say:
And let us some way make him sure; then torture him.
To kill him presently, has no pleasure in't.
H'as been tormenting of us, at least this twelve moneth.

_Rod._ Oh me!

_All._ He comes: he comes.

_4._ Has he no Guns about him?

_3._ Softly again: no, no: take that hand easily,
And tye it fast there: that to th' other bough there.
Fast, fast, and easie lest he wake.

_2._ Have we got ye?
This was a benefit we never aim'd at.

_3._ Out with your knives, and let's carve this Cockthief,
Daintily carve him.

_2._ I would he had been used thus
Ten year agoe; we might have thought we had children.

_3._ O, that Sir _Nicholas_ now our Priest were here,
What a sweet Homily would he say over him,
For ringing all in, with his wife in the Bell-frey!
He would stand up stiffe girt, now pounce him lightly
And as he roars, and rages, let's go deeper:
Come near: you are dim-ey'd: on with your spectacles.

_Rod._ O, what torments me thus? what slaves, what villains?
O spare me, do not murther me.

_3._ We'l but tickle ye,
You have tickled us at all points.

_4._ Where are his _Emblemes_?

_Enter_ Pedro.

_Rod._ As ye are men, and _Christians_.

_2._ Yes we hear ye,
And you shall hear of us too.

_Rod._ O no mercy.

_Ped._ What noise is this? what roar? I cannot find her,
She is got free again: but where, or which way?

_Rod._ O villains, beasts.

_Ped._ Murdering a man, ye Rascals?
Ye inhumane slaves, off, off, and leave this cruelty,
Or as I am a Gentleman: do ye brave me?
Then have among ye all, ye slaves, ye cowards,
Take up that sword, and stand: stay ye base rascals,
Ye cut-throat rogues.

_All._ Away, away. [_Exeunt_ Pes.

_Ped._ Ye dog-whelps.

_Rod._ O, I am now more wretched far, than ever.

_Ped._ A violence to that habit? ha? _Roderigo_,
What makes he here, thus clad? is it repentance,
Or only a fair shew to guile his mischiefs?

_Rod._ This benefit has made me shame to see him,
To know him, blush.

_Ped._ You are not much hurt?

_Rod._ No Sir;
All I can call a hurt, sticks in my conscience,
That pricks and tortures me.

_Ped._ Have ye consider'd
The nature of these men, and how they us'd ye?
Was it fair play? did it appear to you handsom?

_Rod._ I dare not speak: or if I do 'tis nothing
Can bring me off, or justifie me.

_Ped._ Was it noble
To be o're-laid with odds, and violence?
Manly, or brave in these thus to oppress ye?
Do you blush at this, in such as are meer rudeness,
That have stopt souls, that never knew things gentle?
And dare you glorifie worse in your self Sir?
Ye us'd me with much honour, and I thank ye,
In this I have requited some: ye know me:
Come turn not back, ye must, and ye shall know me;
Had I been over season'd with base anger,
And suited all occasions to my mischiefs,
Bore no respect to honesty, Religion,
No faith, no common tye of man, humanity,
Had I had in me, but given reins, and licence
To a tempestuous will, as wild as winter,
This day, know _Roderigo_, I had set
As small a price upon thy life and fortunes,
As thou didst lately on mine innocence;
But I reserve thee to a nobler service.

_Rod._ I thank ye, and I'le study more to honour ye:
You have the nobler soul, I must confess it,
And are the greater Master of your goodness.
Though it be impossible I would now recover,
And my rude will grow handsom in an instant,
Yet touching but the pureness of your metal,
Something shall shew like gold, at least shall glister,
That men may hope, although the mind be rugged,
Stony, and hard to work, yet time, and honour
Shall find and bring forth that, that's rich and worthy.

_Ped._ I'le trie that: and toth' purpose: ye told me Sir
In noble emulation, so I take it;
I'le put your hatred far off, and forget it,
You had a fair desire to try my valour:
You seem'd to court me to it; you have found a time,
A weapon in your hand, an equal enemy,
That, as he puts this off, puts off all injuries,
And only now for honours sake defies ye:
Now, as you are a man, I know you are valiant,
As you are gentle bred, a Souldier fashioned.

_Rod._ His vertue startles me. I dare fight _Pedro_.

_Ped._ And as you have a Mistris that you honour,
Mark me, a Mistris.

_Rod._ Ha?

_Ped._ A handsome Mistris,
As you dare hold your self deserving of her.

_Rod._ Deserving? what a word was that to fire me?

_Ped._ I could compel ye now without this circumstance,
But I'le deal free, and fairly, like a Gentleman:
As ye are worthy of the name ye carry,
A daring man.

_Rod._ O that I durst not suffer:
For all I dare do now, implies but penance.

_Ped._ Now do me noble right.

_Rod._ I'll satisfie ye;
But not by th' sword, pray you hear me, and allow me;
I have been rude; but shall I be a Monster,
And teach my Sword to hurt that that preserv'd me?
Though I be rough by nature, shall my name
Inherit that eternal stain of barbarous?
Give me an enemy, a thing that hates ye,
That never heard of yet, nor felt your goodness,
That is one main antipathy to sweetness;
And set me on, you cannot hold me Coward;
If I have ever err'd, 'thas been in hazard;
The temper of my Sword starts at your Vertue,
And will flye off, nay it will weep to light ye;
Things excellently mingled, and of pure nature,
Hold sacred Love, and peace with one another,
See how it turns.

_Ped._ This is a strange Conversion:
And can ye fail your Mistriss? can ye grow cold
In such a case?

_Rod._ Those heats that they add to us,
(O noble _Pedro_) let us feel 'em rightly,
And rightly but consider how they move us.

_Ped._ Is not their honour ours?

_Rod._ If they be vertuous,
And then the Sword adds nothing to their lustre,
But rather calls in question what's not doubted;
If they be not, the best Swords, and best valours
Can never fight 'em up to fame again;
No, not a Christian War, and that's held pious.

_Ped._ How bravely now he is tempered! I must fight,
And rather make it honourable, than angry,
I would not task those sins to me committed.

_Rod._ You cannot, Sir, you have cast those by: discarded 'em,
And in a noble mind, so low, and loosely
To look back, and collect such lumps, and lick 'em
Into new horrid forms again--

_Ped._ Still braver.

_Rod._ To fight, because I dare, were worse and weaker
Than if I had a woman in my cause, Sir,
And more proclaim'd me fool: yet I must confess
I have been covetous of all occasions,
And this I have taken upon trust, for noble,
The more shame mine: devise a way to fight thus,
That like the wounded air, no bloud may issue,
Nor where the Sword shall enter, no lost spirit,
And set me on: 1 would not scare that body,
That vertuous, valiant body, nor deface it
To make the Kingdom mine: if one must bleed,
Let me be both the Sacrifice and Altar,
And you the Priest; I have deserv'd to suffer.

_Ped._ The noble _Roderigo_, now I call ye,
And thus my love shall ever count, and hold ye.

_Rod._ I am your servant, Sir, and now this habit,
Devotion, not distrust shall put upon me,
I'll wait upon your fortunes, that's my way now,
And where you grieve, or joy, I'll be a Partner.

_Ped._ I thank ye, Sir, I shall be too proud of ye,
O I could tell ye strange things.

_Rod._ I guess at 'em,
And I could curse my self, I made 'em stranger;
Yet my mind says you are not far from happiness.

_Ped._ It shall be welcome; come, let's keep up thus still,
And be as we appear; Heavens hand may bless us. [_Exeunt._

SCENE III.

_Enter_ Alphonso, _Master and Keepers_.

_Mast._ Yes, Sir, here be such people; but how pleasing
They will appear to you.

_Alph._ 'Pray let me see 'em,
I come to that end; 'pray let me see 'em all.

_Mast._ They will confound ye, Sir, like Bells rung backward,
They are nothing but Confusion, and meer Noises.

_Alph._ May be I love a noise; but hark ye, Sir,
Have ye no Boys? handsome young Boys?

_Mast._ Yes, one, Sir,
A very handsome Boy.

_Alph._ Long here?

_Mast._ But two days;
A little crazed; but much hope of recovery.

_Alph._ I, that Boy, let me see, may be I know him,
That Boy I say; this is the Boy he told me of,
And it must need be she; that Boy, I beseech ye, Sir,
That Boy I come to see.

_Mast._ And ye shall see him;
Or any else: but pray be not too violent.

_Alph._ I know what to do, I warrant ye; I am for all fancies;
I can talk to 'em, and dispute.

_1 Keep._ As madly;
For they are very mad, Sir.

_Alph._ Let 'em be horn-mad.

_1 Keep._ We have few Citizens: they have Bedlams of their own, Sir,
And are mad at their own charges.

_Alph._ Who lyes here?

_Mast._ 'Pray ye do not disturb 'em, Sir, here lie such youths
Will make you start if they but dance their trenchmores,
Fetch out the Boy, Sirrah; hark!

[_Shake Irons within. English mad-men, Scholar, Parson, Jenkin._

_Alph._ Heigh Boys.

_Eng._ Bounce,
Clap her o'th' star-board; bounce, top the Can.

_Schol._ Dead ye dog, dead, do ye quarrel in my Kingdom?
Give me my trident.

_Eng._ Bounce, 'twixt wind and water,
Loaden with Mackrel; O brave meat.

_Schol._ My Sea horses;
I'll charge the Northern Wind, and break his Bladder.

_Pars._ I'll sell my Bells before I be out-brav'd thus.

_Alph._ What's he? what's he?

_Mast._ A Parson, Sir, a Parson
That run mad for tyth Goslings.

_Alph._ Green sawce cure him.

_Pars._ I'll curse ye all, I'll excommunicate ye;
Thou _English_ Heretick, give me the tenth Pot.

_Eng._ Sue me, I'll drink up all, bounce I say once more.
O have I split your Mizen? blow, blow thou West-wind,
Blow till thou rive, and make the Sea run roaring.
I'll hiss it down again with a Bottle of Ale.

_Schol. Triton_, why _Triton_.

_Eng. Triton_'s drunk with _Metheglin_.

_Seb._ Strike, strike the surges, strike.

_Eng._ Drink, drink, 'tis day light;
Drink, didle, didle, didle, drink, _Parson_, proud _Parson_;
A Pigs tail in thy teeth, and I defie thee.

_Par._ Give me some porridg, or I'll damn thee, _English_.

_Alph._ How comes this _English_ mad man here?

_Mast._ Alas, that's no question;
They are mad every where, Sir;
Their fits are cool now, let 'em rest.

_Enter Keepers and She-fools._

_Alph._ Mad Gallants;
Most admirable mad; I love their faces.

_1 Keep._ Ye stinking Whore, who knew of this? who lookt to him?
'Pox take him, he was sleepy when I left him.

_2 Keep._ Certain he made the fool drunk.

_Mast._ How now, who's this here?
Where is the Boy?

_1 Keep._ The Boy, Sir?

_Mast._ I, the Boy, Sir.

_1 Keep._ Here's all the Boys we found.

_Mast._ These are his Cloaths.
But where's the Boy?

_She-fool._ The Boy is gone a Maying,
He'll bring me home a Cuckows Nest; do you hear, _Master_?
I put my Cloaths off, and I dizen'd him,
And pin'd a Plum in's forehead, and a feather,
And buss'd him twice, and bid him go seek his fortune;
He gave me this fine money, and fine Wine too,
And bid me sop; and gave me these trim Cloaths too,
And put 'em on.

_Alph._ Is this the Boy you would shew?

_She-fool._ I'll give you two pence, Master.

_Alph._ Am I fool'd of all sides?
I met a fool i'th' Woods, they said she dwelt here,
In a long pied Coat.

_Mast._ That was the very Boy, Sir.

_She-f._ I, I, I, I gave him leave to play, forsooth,
He'll come again to morrow, and bring peascods.

_Mast._ I'll bring your bones.

_Alph._ 'Pox o' your fools, and Bedlams,
'Plague o' your Owls and Apes.

_Mast._ 'Pray ye, Sir, be tamer,
We cannot help this presently, but we shall know;
I'll recompence your Care too.

_Alph._ Know me, a pudding,
You juggle, and ye riddle; fart upon ye;
I am abused.

_Mast._ 'Pray ye, Sir. [_Welsh madman._

_Alph._ And I will be abused, Sir,
And you shall know I am abused.

_Welsh._ Whaw, Mr. Keeper.

_Alph._ 'Pox o' thy whaws, and thy whyms,
'Pox o' thy urship.

_Wel._ Give me some Ceeze, and Onions; give me some wash-brew,
I have ---- in my bellies, give me abundance,
_Pendragon_ was a Shentleman, marg you, Sir,
And the Organs at _Rixum_ were made by Revelations,
There is a spirit blows, and blows the Bellows,
And then they sing.

_Alph._ What Moon-calf's this? what dream?

_Mast._ 'Pray ye, Sir, observe him,
He is a Mountaineer, a man of _Goteland_.

_Welsh._ I will beat thy face as black as a blue Clout,
I will leave no more sheet in thine eyes.

_Mast._ He will not hurt ye.

_Welsh._ Give me a great deal of Guns; thou art the Devils,
I know thee by thy tails; poor _Owen's_ hungry,
I will peg thy bums full of Bullets.

_Alph._ This is the rarest Rascal,
He speaks as if he had butter-milk in's mouth,
Is this any thing akin to th' _English_?

_Mast._ The elder Brother, Sir,
He run mad because a Rat eat up's Cheese.

_Alph._ H'ad a great deal of reason, Sir.

_Welsh. Basilus manus_, is for an old Codpiss, mark ye,
I will borrow thy Urships Whore to seal a Letter.

_Mast._ Now he grows villainous.

_Alph._ Methinks he's best now.

_Mast._ Away with him.

_Alph._ He shall not.

_Mast._ Sir, he must.

_Welsh._ I will sing and dance,
Do any thing.

_Alph._ Wilt thou declaim in Greek?

_Mast._ Away with the fool,
And whip her soundly, Sirrah.

_She fool._ I'll tell no more tales. [_Exit._

_Alph._ Or wilt thou flye i'th' air?

_Eng._ Do, and I'll catch thee,
And like a wisp of Hay, I'll whirl, and whirl thee,
And puff thee up, and puff thee up.

_Schol._ I'll save thee,
And thou shalt fall into the Sea, soft, softly.

_Welsh._ I'll get upon a mountain, and call my Countrymen.

_Mast._ They all grow wild, away with him for Heavens sake,
Sir, ye are much to blame.

_Alph._ No, no, 'tis brave, Sir,
Ye have cozen'd me; I'll make you mad.

_Mast._ In with him,
And lock him fast.

_Alph._ I'll see him in his lodging. [_Exit._

_Mast._ What means this Gentleman?

_Enter_ Juletta.

_Jul._ He's in; have at him,
Are you the Master, Sir?

_Mast._ What would you with him?

_Jul._ I have a business from the Duke of _Medina_,
Is there not an old Gentleman come lately in?

_Mast._ Yes, and a wild one too, but not a Prisoner.